#only watched werewolf by night now and was a great decision

[quicklyshinycollectorfan]

Me to Jack Russel:

Babygirl

[jjngkook7]

Choices (7)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

You groaned as you finally shut off your alarm. After hitting the snooze button four times, you only had 30 minutes to get ready for work. As you dragged yourself out of bed and into your washroom, you thought about your dream last night. It was still a nightmare but not as gruesome as it usually was. Entering your washroom, you grimaced at the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyebags were heavy and your skin flat and colorless. Due to your inability to get up on time, you could only afford to wash your face and brush your hair if you wanted to at least have a coffee before work. Oh, the joys of Monday’s.

It seemed like your morning really set a precedent on how the rest of your day was going to be. You were 15 minutes late to work because of traffic, you forgot about a meeting that you set up and lunch was a bag of chips because you forgot your wallet at home. Needing to leave the chaos of the office, you decided to eat your sad lunch at a park. You ignored how cold your bottom was getting against the park bench as you watched the people around you go about their day.

“Rough day at the office?” an all too familiar voice asked.

You looked up and locked eyes with Jungkook. Great, now I'm hallucinating. If having visions of Jungkook wasn’t bad enough already, he looked better than you remembered. His hair was a little longer now and his eyes bright amber.

“Hello?” Jungkook waved his hand in front of you.

You reached out and grabbed his hand. A jolt of electricity shoots through you.

“Oh you are real…oh my god! You’re-what are you doing here?!” it felt like you had just went through all five stages of grief in a nanosecond.

Jungkook watched in real time as the sleep vanishes from your eyes. He waits for you to collect yourself before taking a seat next to you on the bench. His body shivered not from the cold but from the sudden energy radiating between both of you. After being away for so long, he forgot just how strong the pull of a mate was.

“Aren't you cold?” you asked bewildered by how he was only in a long sleeve and jeans.

Jungkook wanted to laugh. He knew you were probably freezing from how pale your fingers were. He also noticed the tiredness on your face and wondered if you had been sleeping at all.

“How long do you have left for your lunch break?” he asked, ignoring your question.

“20 minutes.” you replied.

Jungkook nods and quickly tried to figure out how to tell you that your life was in danger and that the only way to save you was to live with him for a bit and let him mark you.

“I think we’re going to need more than 20 minutes,” he says.

Jungkook was able to explain the situation to you within 20 minutes, leaving out the part where he had to mark you. The argument that happened afterwards lasted 30 minutes. You couldn’t just move to the mountains when you had a job to show up to and who was going to pay rent for the unit you were already living in? In the same breath, Jungkook explained that it was dangerous to live so close to civilization in case there was an attack and shared how much he didn’t want to live with you.

“Do you not hear the absurdity of what you’re asking me to do?” you argued.

“Do you think I want to do this?” Jungkook sneered.

“Then don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Fine!” he shouted, matching the volume of your voice.

“Fine!” you shouted back before marching back to your office, your bag of chips forgotten on the bench.

__________________________________

Jungkook adjusted his cap as he waited for you to leave your house. He rolled his eyes when he heard your alarm ring for the third time signifying that you had no intention of getting up. You’re going to be late again idiot.

After your guys’ encounter at the park, Namjoon reamed Jungkook out for being stubborn and doing the exact opposite of what he was supposed to do. They came up with a compromise that Jungkook hated even more than the original plan. Night and day, Jungkook would essentially watch you from afar in case a rogue decided to attack. He’d follow you to work, to the grocery store and home. At night, Jungkook would make rounds around your neighborhood until late and then head back to his own home before repeating it all again the next day. Before he knew it, Jungkook's life revolved around you now.

“One more snooze and you would’ve been screwed.” Jungkook grinned when you opened the door.

Biting your tongue, you locked the front door before making your way past him. You were already running on a couple hours of sleep and seeing Jungkook’s shit eating grin this early in the morning made you want to scream. Unbeknownst to Jungkook, your sleep schedule had gotten worse now that you knew your life was at risk. If you were lucky, you’d only wake up twice in the night. Despite the lack of privacy, knowing that Jungkook was around just in case anything happened did give you some sort of reassurance. You’d never admit it to anyone, but you kind of liked having him around. Sure, he’d make your anger spike anytime he spoke but his presence added some excitement to your daily mundane routine. When you were out and about, you’d try to spot him in a crowd like a game of “Where’s Waldo”. It was getting harder for Jungkook to hide his amusement anytime you would find him because when you did, you’d stick out your tongue at him. He did noticed that you continued to look more and more tired than before. He had wondered what was causing you so much stress but pushed the thought away because that wasn’t part of the job description.

As you stood in front of your office building, you turned your head to see where Jungkook was. Scanning through the crowd of people on their way to work, you finally locked eyes with him and inhaled sharply. It was always a sensation overload whenever you looked at him because his amber eyes would pierce right through you. After the initial shock, a smile crept onto your face. Jungkook was trying to keep a low profile with his all black outfit and baseball cap but he didn’t realize how much he stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone bustling through were clad in thick winter coats and layers upon layers just to keep warm yet there he was standing at the end of the block with nothing but a black flannel button up and jeans. With one more glance, you made your way into your building excited to see him again later. Once you were out of sight, Jungkook immediately made a quick dash back to your house. Last night, Jungkook picked up the faintest scent of a rogue, but this morning the smell strong and near.

As he approached your home, he slowed down and tried to process what he was smelling and sensing carefully. Fortunately, he only picked up the scent of one rogue but the claw marks on the side of your house and fresh tracks in the snow meant that Jungkook was a little too late.

Usually, Jungkook kept his distance when he would follow you around but something must’ve happened between the morning and now because he was walking right beside you. It wasn’t the brushing of your bodies when you bumped into each other that formed the butterflies in your stomach but his hand on your lower back leading you home that did it. Jungkook kept you almost right up against him and you felt embarrassed for relishing in both his touch and smell. It was concerning how much you didn’t care about your safety when being this close to him felt so good. On the flipside, Jungkook could not afford to have his attention waver for even a second. He had to somehow cut through all the sounds and smells of the city just to pick up a stray whiff of any rogues. Jungkook was glad to have his attention focused elsewhere than on how your body was reacting to him. If he thought about it too much, his ego would grow too large for him to handle. You were usually so difficult to deal with and so stubborn but all he had was one hand on your lower back and you were compliant to his every word. Would you still be such a pain in the ass if you were under him? Could you possibly talk back if you were writhing from his touch? And what could you possibly say when he’s shoved down your throat?

“Do not open the door unless it’s me.” Jungkook ordered before pushing you into your house and slamming the door shut.

You take a moment to calm your heart. All you could think about was how his hand eventually wrapped around your waist and how strong his grip was. Once the high wore off, you dragged yourself upstairs to get ready for your night feeling less scared than you should. If Jungkook could muster through his hatred for you to keep you safe on the way home, you knew that you were in good hands.

You stirred awake and checked the time on your phone. 2:05am. You plopped your head back onto your pillow and tried to get back to sleep. You tried to still your mind but the heavy pitter patter against your window made it hard to do. Guess I'm awake now. Luckily, you didn't have work tomorrow so you and your insomnia could be friends for a night. You sat up and ran a hand through your hair as you stared out the window. You wondered if Jungkook was still outside or if he went home. If he was still here, he'd be soaked to the bone. Do werewolves catch colds? Putting on your slippers, you made your way to the front door and opened it. You scanned the driveway and sidewalk but with how heavy the rain was falling, it was hard to see. You took a step outside to see if he was around the corner but before you could turn your head, Jungkook himself appeared from the other side of where you were looking.

"I thought I told you not to open this door." he sighed annoyingly.

You felt your throat go dry when you saw him. He was dripping from head to toe and you envied the way his shirt clung onto his body.

"It's raining really hard and I didn't know if you were still outside." you said after prying your eyes away from his body.

"I told you to keep the door closed unless it's for me." he argued.

"Yeah well it is for you because I wanted to check up on you, god." you bite back. Jungkook had such a sour attitude but he truly was such a sight for your sore tired eyes.

You look over his shoulder and see that the rain was pouring even harder with no plans to stop. Had he just been patrolling your place since you finished work? Supernatural or not, Jungkook shouldn't be standing around in this weather.

"You should come in and rest." you said, after much consideration.

Jungkook immediately shook his head and backed away from you, "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're soaking wet! And besides, you've been roaming around for hours and if my neighbours get suspicious they might call the cops." you challenged.

Jungkook falls silent and you see his eyes shift from side to side, trying to look for something that wasn't there.

"Jungkook you've been out here since I got home. Whatever's out there would've gotten you by now. Please, just come inside and dry off for a little bit," you plead, "I won't be able to sleep knowing you're just out in the rain for no reason."

I'm out here for you. You're the fucking reason. Jungkook chewed the inside of his cheeks in thought. The invitation was tempting. He was absolutely exhausted and after staring at the dark day in and day out, his mind was starting to play tricks on him. Protecting you was one thing but his pride was bruised. All he did for the past few hours was ruminate on how he didn't see or smell the rogue. He wanted to crush the thing and kill it with his bare hands to make up for his inattentiveness, but he was tired. You took his silence as compliance and stepped aside so he could come in. Before Jungkook could mentally brace himself, the overwhelming smell of you sent his senses into overdrive. He placed a hand against the wall and took deep breaths. Every time he inhaled, it felt like his brain was going to pop out of his skull. The lights were too bright, the sound of the rain too loud and your scent was so strong he could almost taste you.

"Are you okay...?" you asked as you slowly closed the door.

Jungkook's back and the tension throughout his body brought you back to when you found him in that abandoned shed. You mentally cursed wondering if tonight was going to be another repeat. To your surprise, Jungkook managed to compose himself and turned around to face you. From how his usual amber eyes were now maroon, you knew he still wasn't quite back.

"W-where is your washroom? I'm going to clean up." he asked, his voice strained.

You direct him to your washroom and watch as he staggered away. When you heard the sink turn on, you quickly ran to your room to grab what you could to prepare the sofa for him. As you searched through your closet for an extra blanket, it quickly dawned on you that Jungkook was in your house and was going to stay the night. Suddenly, you were hyper aware of all the embarrassing things you owned. When you finally found your extra blanket, you suppressed a groan at the Sanrio characters decorating the duvet. He's here to rest not judge your choice of home decor. You grab a pillow from your bed and made your way back to the living room. As you were setting up the couch, you noticed the mess of cups and candy wrappers on the coffee table. If you knew that you would house a werewolf that was supposedly your soulmate, you would've cleaned up a bit more. Pushing the thought away, you made your way towards the bathroom where Jungkook hadn't made a sound. He's not dead is he? You took a deep breath before bravely poking your head through the door to check on him. The sight before you literally stole the inhale you had just taken away. You had imagined Jungkook shirtless many times before but your imagination was truly nothing compared to what he looked like in real life. Jungkook was leaned over the sink, his wet shirt by his feet as he wiped his chest with your towel with one hand. Every time he brushed his hand against his body, the muscles in his arms flexed. The raindrops cascading down the curves of his shoulder blades and back polluted your mind with lewd scenarios.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Jungkook scoffed.

You mumbled a pathetic apology as your eyes continued trailing down his body. The deep gash on his arm reeled you out of your perverted psyche. Without thinking, you quickly approached him and inspected his wound.

"Jungkook, you need to go to the hospital." you gasp at how torn up his arm looked.

"Please." Jungkook almost laughed.

You shoot him a look and push him aside to grab the first aid kit under the sink. Jungkook watched in amusement as you rummaged through your kit to find something to treat his wound. You seemed to forget that he was not of this world. This injury would heal in a week and a bandaid was not going to help.

"Give me you arm." you demanded setting a tube of polysporin and bandage wraps on the counter.

Jungkook raised his brow, "Are you going to make me a bowl of chicken noodle soup and put on my favourite cartoon as well?"

How this asshole was your soulmate was beyond you by how quickly he was able to bring you to anger within seconds. Jungkook could hate you all he wanted, but he didn't have to make you feel useless while doing so. For the past week and a half, he was literally supervising you like you were a child and it made you feel so foolish.

"Can you just let me do something for once? Just let me-" you exhaled with closed eyes, "let me feel like I'm helping for once."

Jungkook let out a sarcastic "ok" and surrendered his arm to you. You unscrewed the cap from the polysporin and wanted to kick yourself for dropping it during the process. It was really hard to focus when he was staring at you in his shirtless glory. Ignoring the fallen cap, you pushed out the ointment onto your finger and reached for his arm. The jolt you usually received whenever you guys touched made you flinch.

"You're okay." Jungkook encouraged after feeling the power from the shock himself.

Biting your lower lip, you gently grabbed his arm again and waited a few seconds for the sensation to pass before rubbing the medicine onto his cut. Jungkook watched are you carefully tended to him. In his absorption of your actions, he couldn't feel the corner of his lip turning upwards and the silencing of his mind. All he could hear was your breathing and if he focused a little more, the fluttering of your eyelashes as you blinked. It was endearing watching you meticulously layer the bandage perfectly on his arm. The treatment you were giving Jungkook was going to do absolutely nothing for him besides make him itchy. His species didn't heal like humans. They were able to heal on their own and if they were mated, their healing time was even quicker. You released the bite you had on your lower lip once you successfully wrapped him up.

"I'll let you do your own thing now," you laughed awkwardly stepping away from him, "There are extra towels under the sink and the sofa is all set up for you."

Jungkook holds your eyes for a few seconds and you see that they're back to their usual amber colour.

"Goodnight," he nods.

"Goodnight," you repeat before retreating back to your room.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you slept through the night.

You woke up a lot earlier than you intended to but you felt refreshed. You didn't have any nightmares, in fact, you didn't dream at all. You graciously welcomed the daylight that usually disturbed your already horrible sleep shining through your window. As you put on your slippers, the butterflies in your stomach swarmed when you remembered that Jungkook had slept over. You sat on the edge of your bed and slapped your cheeks from how hard you were grinning. He was probably gone by now but you were going to spend the whole weekend replaying last night in privacy. You giddily swing your bedroom door open and immediately froze. You held your breath and didn't move a single muscle as to not wake the sleeping Jungkook on your couch. After an agonizing minute, you quietly approached him with pursed lips. He was sound asleep with his mouth slightly agape. When Jungkook wasn't speaking or awake in general, he sure looked like an angel. The skittish grin you had on earlier crept back at the sight of him all curled up in your Sanrio blanket. Jungkook rarely let his guard down yet here he was sleeping so peacefully in your home. He had to ability to hear a pin drop in a crowded room so judging by how he didn't wake up from the slight noises you made, poor guy was probably drained. You desperately fought the desire to brush his bangs away from his eyes and left to go wash up instead.

You rolled your eyes when you see the bandage you so caringly put on Jungkook last night in the garbage next to your toilet. You couldn't at least flush it down or hide it? Ass. Still, he let you tend to him and that was good enough for you. Jungkook was still asleep by the time you finished your morning routine. You crept back into your room and decided to clean up. You had completely ignored the state of your home with the little sleep you were getting every night. You looked over to your laundry basket by the window that had been taunting you for weeks and decided to finally tackle it. Sitting down in front of it, you began to sort your white and coloured clothes. As you thought about the things you wanted to get done today, you began to feel excited about the prospect of having a productive weekend when your bedroom door suddenly swung open, the hinges breaking in the process. A frantic looking Jungkook entered followed by a curse when he saw where you positioned.

"Get behind me right now!" he shouted.

Your body and brain freezes from the sudden shock, "W-what?"

"Can you fucking listen to me for once and just-"

Your bedroom window shatters and a black mass breaks through. A scream emits from you when the rogue snaps at your arms. You scramble backwards as the creature attempts to wedge its body through the fracture it created. If you were any closer, you would've been a goner. The absolute depravity of the monster fills your entire body up with fear as flashbacks from the first time you ever encountered a rogue replay in your mind. You couldn't feel your legs and all you could do was scramble back as far as you could go. Tears immediately flood your eyes when the creature snarls and breaks free of the glass that was holding it back. There was absolutely nothing you could do as the creature lunges towards you, the smile it has on it's face seared into your brain. Another scream escapes from you as Jungkook grabs its neck and slams it onto your bedroom floor. Your stomach turns when you see it squirm abnormally under his grasp. The rogue produces high pitched cackling as Jungkook delivers blow after blow to its face.

"Close your eyes." Jungkook orders and you do as you're told.

You choke out a sob when you hear the sick animal laugh as Jungkook tears its flesh apart and breaks its bones. Eventually, the room falls silent but you keep your eyes shut afraid of what you might see. You jump when Jungkook places his hands on your arms.

"Hey it's just me, it's me. It's okay, it's over now." he attempts to soothe you while grabbing your hands, halting your useless attempts to push him away.

When you finally come to, you grab onto him and push your face into his chest. Jungkook tells you to keep your eyes closed as he carries you into the living room, not wanting you to see the aftermath of what he did. He holds your trembling body as tightly as he can and waits for your sobbing to subside. Once he hears your sobs turn into sniffles, he lifts your face from your hands and through your teary vision, you see an apologetic expression plastered on his face.

"I'm packing a bag for you. Tell me what you need, we leave in 20 minutes." he says.

You try to fight against his hold, but he's much stronger than you.

"Jungkook! I can't leave-I can't-"

"We don't have a choice now," he says, his voice soft as ever, "this is the only way I can protect you."

[laszlossweetcheese]

hii! may i request laszlo x gender neutral reader whos a supernatural being? they could be a werewolf, or a ghost or even a witch, up to you tbh!! fank you <3

It's been too long, but I'M BACK! Thank you so much for your request! I think I'm going to do a second part to this one, so apologies in advance if it's a bit slow going here.

Laszlo x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader is a witch trying to make it on their own as a healer. They encounter an interesting new visitor.

Warnings: None

Growing up as a witch in the south had its issues when it came to cultural beliefs about other supernatural beings. You were taught by your mother and her coven that witches were above all, and despite constant arguments with your elders, they remained stuck in their centuries old ways, unwilling to change. As a young witch with a natural talent for healing and the desire to use this skill for the betterment of all supernatural beings, that was something you couldn’t stand for. So, you made the bold decision to move from your home in Georgia, all the way to Staten Island. 

You’d heard that witches near more progressive cities had more of an open mind about equality in supernatural society, but upon your arrival to the big city, you found things weren’t much better than they were back home. It was very kind of the coven that had taken you in to welcome you so warmly, but after a couple of months watching your new witch-siblings make plans to extract the semen from local vampire clans in rather outdated and barbaric ways, you decided to fly solo. 

Returning home would only prove to your mother that you couldn’t handle life that far away from all you’d ever known and you were desperate to prove her wrong. Determined to improve your healing methods and expand your knowledge of other supernatural species, you began visiting the local night market to speak with other beings and collecting as many books as you could. Understandably, most of the other spooks haunting the area were wary of you and your motives, but you pushed on, thankful your stubbornness was finally useful for something. After a while, you had gained something of a clientele, and your humble townhouse became a magical clinic of sorts. 

Being on your own for the first time in your life felt strange at first, but now you had settled into a comfortable routine. Most of your clients preferred to visit you under the cover of night, so you spent your days resting and gathering supplies in preparation for your nighttime patients. It wasn’t the highest paying job by any means, but you finally felt like you were doing something meaningful with your life. Those who couldn’t pay for your services with human money had the option of paying you with knowledge of their species or various ingredients for your remedies, so  you were making great progress in finding new treatments for a much wider variety of ailments.

It was a quiet Autumn evening when your doorbell rang, signaling your first visitor of the night. You left your mortar and pestle on your kitchen island and wiped the remnants of various herbs from your hands onto your apron as you hurried to the door, excited to have company. “Oh, Guillermo! Welcome back, it’s been a while,” you say with a smile to the darked haired man on your stoop. As you step back to let him in, you notice another man standing a few feet behind him, looking rather skeptical of you. His dramatically gothic attire was enough to let you know he was a vampire, even without your witchy senses and you understood his hesitation. Witches and vampires were historical enemies. “And who’s your friend?” You add, offering the vampire a friendly smile in an attempt to gain his trust. 

Guillermo had become somewhat of a regular after stumbling upon your apothecary bundles at the night market. He’s your only human customer, but you’ve welcomed him nonetheless, having found his company to be rather enjoyable. “Hey, good to see you! This is Laszlo, one of the vampires I live with…he’s…well, he’s sick, so I brought him here hoping you can help him out,” Guillermo replies, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously as he leans in closer to you. “He’s still not totally on board with getting help from a witch, so…I apologize in advance for anything he’s about to say or do,” he whispers.

“I can hear you Gizmo,” Laszlo huffs, earning an eye roll from the familiar. “And I will not be apologizing for telling this semen stealing demon to fuck off if things get too handsy.” “I’m so sorry,” Guillermo sighs. “It’s alright,” you laugh, standing to the side and opening the door wider for them to enter. “I understand the hesitation, Laszlo. I promise your semen is safe.”

Laszlo is still hesitant, but he follows Guillermo inside, watching you carefully as you close the door behind them. “Please, make yourselves comfortable on the couch. Do you want any tea or anything?” You ask, waiting for them to get settled. Guillermo politely declines your offer and the two men sit down on your sofa, Laszlo still looking tense. You sit down in the plush chair across from them, your hands folded in your lap. “So, Laszlo, what seems to be the issue?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, witch,” the vampire huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Now that he’s in better lighting, you can see dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping,” Guillermo spoke, not wanting to drag this out. “And he’s having trouble turning into a bat.”

“Shut the fuck up Gizmo, you’re giving the witch too much information!” Laszlo hisses.

“Hmm…not sleeping…can’t shift…Laszlo, you have dirt from your homeland under your coffin, yes?” You ask, ignoring the insults. 

“Of course.”

“Alright. And have you been feeding regularly? Nothing’s changed with your diet recently?”

“No, nothing different.”

You think for a moment, getting to your feet and walking over to the bookshelf reserved for your texts on supernatural beings. You pull out a book on vampire anatomy and skim through it until you find what you need. “How long has it been since you’ve had a virgin's blood?” Laszlo takes a second to think it over before giving an answer. “Several months now that I think about it.” He turns to Guillermo, pointing a finger at him. “Thanks to this shit familiar not doing his job.” 

Guillermo gives you a deadpan look, making you struggle to hold back a laugh. “Well, it seems to me like you just need a dose of virgin’s blood to get a good night’s sleep. Once you’re well rested you should be able to use your bat form again,” you explain, closing the book and returning it to its place on the shelf. 

“Great,” Guillermo sighs, looking exhausted himself. “Guess that’s up to me then.”

“Not at all!” You interject, stepping into the kitchen. You return with a cold bloodbag straight from the fridge marked ‘virgin’ with black sharpie. You hold it out to Laszlo, who takes it and looks it over. 

“Right…so I drink this and boom, I’m cured? And you’re not going to take my semen?” Laszlo asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Like I said, your semen is safe. If I wanted your semen I would’ve taken it already,” you tease, nudging the bag into the vampire’s hand. He finally takes it, still eyeing you as he bites directly into the bag and sucks the whole thing dry within seconds.

He lets out a satisfied hum, licking his lips clean. You watch him with a smile, proud of yourself for your diagnosis. “That blood is going to hit you soon, so I recommend you get going. It’s going to be a lot like taking a bit too much NyQuil when you have a cold,” you explain for Guillermo’s sake so he knows what to expect. “He’ll probably be out for a few days straight to catch up on sleep.”

“Thank you. Seriously, he has been such a pain,” Guillermo says, standing up to give you a handshake, which you return happily. “How should we pay you back? I brought you some spearmint seeds, but I don’t think that’s enough for the blood you gave him.” 

You take the packet of seeds he holds out to you. “That’s perfect, Guillermo! Thank you.” You look over at Laszlo, who looks like he’s fighting off sleep the best he can. “On second thought…I think I’ll be needing that semen as payment.” You bite back a laugh at your own stupid teasing.

“I told you, witches are not to be trusted!” Laszlo slurs, stumbling to his feet and pointing at you. “I don’t care how sexy you are, you are not taking my semen!” 

Your laughter can’t be held any longer at his reaction and you put a gentle hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “Laszlo, I’m only kidding! How about this, you both have to promise to visit me again.”

“We’ll see, witch,” the vampire replies, still swaying from drowsiness. 

“I think we can manage that,” Guillermo chuckles. “Thanks again, you really saved me a lot of trouble.” He hooks an arm around Laszlo to help hold him up and you open the door for them. 

“Anytime! Let me know how he does,” you say, giving them both a wave as they head outside. Guillermo gives you a wave in return with his free hand and then turns his attention back to helping Laszlo stay upright, the two bickering as they stumble off into the night. You watch them with a fond smile, laughing to yourself as you head back inside. 

[space-mermaid-writing]

The Vamp and the Were [IronStrange]

Summary: Tony would mark the day he met a vampire that did not immediately jump at his throat. Just for once – that would be a nice change.

Relationship: Werewolf!Tony Stark / Vampire!Stephen Strange

Tags: hurt/comfort, idiots in love, angst, fluff

Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 5k | Previous | Next

Chapter 11: Shit goes down (down under)

Roughly, they fell through the air and landed on sandy ground.

"Ouch," Tony complained, "what the hell?"

Stephen scrambled to his feet, wincing in the process. The graze that had hit him must have been infused with silver, because the wound on his arm was straight up burning. And the magic that had been blasted in his face wasn’t so great either. “You shouldn’t touch magical artifacts.”

“Sorry. They really should come with warning labels, though.”

Stephen would have laughed at those familiar words, if he hadn't currently been so worried.

It was quiet around them. The landscape had changed and smelled different, too. The wand must have teleported them a good distance.

“Let’s go back.”

Stephen reached for his sling ring in his pocket – only to find it empty. He patted down his clothes. But there was nothing. Muttering a curse, he looked around to see if he could find it lying somewhere on the ground.

In the meanwhile, Tony paid little attention to him. He was busy trying to figure out where they had landed.

Around them was the endless expanse of a steppe, almost desert-like, and stars shone in the night sky above them. There were hundreds and thousands to be seen, he could even point out the Milky Way. There was no light pollution at all, and that meant they had to be far away from any city.

The changed landscape and the fact that it suddenly was much warmer, made him come to the solution that they had been sent to a different country.

His gaze dropped to his glasses on the ground. They were smashed by the explosion and he had also fallen on it. He put them back on, hoping that there was still a signal coming through.

It was to no avail. The connection to Jarvis was dead. There wasn’t even so much as a glitch.

This wasn’t good.

“Please tell me you can get us out of here, doc.”

“I’m afraid not.”

Their eyes met.

“Shit.”

So thanks to the unknown attackers who had surprised them, they were now stranded in… wherever this was. It was still night, but Tony couldn't tell if it was a later hour or if they at least had been given more time until the sun came up and became fatal for Stephen.

Either way, they shouldn't waste this time standing here idly.

"Let's go this way." Tony turned left and started walking.

Stephen followed him. "Do you know where to go?"

"No. But it's West. If anything it may delay sunrise a bit."

It would make little difference, but for once Stephen kept any comments to himself.

The ground was red-ish and barren, with only some small trees and bush scattered. There was no road and no path, but the ground was firm enough that it did not make walking unnecessarily difficult.

Tony ruled out Afghanistan as their current location. There had been nothing there except sandy dunes and a small rock now and then.

He didn't need to repeat that trip.

Nevertheless, they absolutely had to find a shelter before sunrise. Preferably a shelter with some form of internet connection.

“I think we’re in Australia,” the vampire noted.

“Oh, great.”

~~

They had been walking for maybe an hour when they crossed a road. A real, paved road. Tony thought it was beautiful.

Now they just had to decide whether to turn left or right.

Tony glanced at Stephen.

Stephen shrugged his shoulders. He had become unusually quiet for the last hour. Tony wondered if the temperature was already getting to him, but it was barely 15°C / 60°F degrees.

He took the decision in his own hands and turned to his right. The vampire followed.

Not only had he been quiet, he also was slowing down. Tony matched his speed and watched him out of the corner of his eye. The smell of sweat and blood was on them both – a result of the fight before. But there was something else on Stephen. Something metallic. The cloak on his shoulders was a familiar sight, but Stephen's posture under it was odd. The way he hunched and kept his arm angled at his body. As if he was…

Tony stopped rooted to the spot.

"You're injured!" He was angry for not realizing it sooner, and also with Stephen for keeping it a secret.

"It's nothing. Barely grazed me." Stubbornly, the vampire continued moving forward.

"Morning will be arriving soon. You should have a drink." With his thumb Tony pointed toward the bright streak on the horizon behind them.

"No."

The Were moved right into Stephen's path and looked him in the face. "If our roles were reversed, you'd be suggesting the same thing."

"But it's not." Stephen had stopped, but wasn't looking directly at him. "I'm fine. Really." He hesitated for a moment. "There's a spell that will protect me against the sun so I won't burn immediately."

It would buy him time, but he was realistic: he was still in need of a hiding place. No vampire survived the sun for long.

He started walking again and circled Tony.

Sighing, the Were trailed behind him.

~~

For Stephen it became more and more exhausting to put one step in front of the other. The bullet had only scratched his skin, there was barely any silver in his blood. But his vampiric body was still not happy about it. He also felt incredibly warm, although the temperature had barely risen since they arrived.

The increasingly bright line on the horizon told them that the sun would soon appear. His cloak still protected him from the light, but to be on the safe side, he put the spell over him, even if he felt exhausted.

They still hadn't encountered anything or anyone on the road. No car, no house, not even a sign that could have told them how far it was to the next city. They really were in the deep vastness of Australia.

Tony remained by his side, casting worried glances at him from time to time, but said nothing to their ever decreasing pace.

This was not how the engineer had imagined their camping trip. Fucking hunters! They had been clearly prepared for Weres.

He hoped the others had survived.

Unfortunately, he had no way to contact and inform his business partner, the owner of the cabin, about the incident.

He had no working technology. That alone was bad enough. But they also had no water while being in the middle of a desert.

It had to be worse for the Vamp at his side.

The first rays of sunlight tickled Tony's face. Normally he liked the feeling, liked the warmth of the sun, but now his focus was on Stephen.

The Vamp knitted his brows together and squinted his eyes. They were sensitive and everything already felt too bright. But otherwise there was no spontaneous and instantaneous combustion to dust on his end.

Still, he was clearly uncomfortable.

The cloak had lengthened and its collar had also grown, as if to do its best to shield its owner from the harmful sun. It did not quite succeed.

Tony took off the plaid shirt he wore to the BBQ and again stepped in front of the other man. “Here, maybe this makes it less worse.”

With practiced hand movements he folded the shirt to a turban on Strange’s head. Maybe he had watched some tutorials after being rescued from the last desert he was trapped in. You never know when you need this kind of knowledge.

Stephen looked at him while the smaller man handled the fabric. “What about you?”

Tony scoffed. He still had his undershirt. “I tan nicely. Worst, I will get a bit sunburned. You can make it up by rubbing aloe on it when we’re back home.”

He looked at his work. Stephen's face was a little bit more protected. He did look pale. More pale than usual. And he looked like he tried to make himself smaller, as if that would help to escape the inevitable trajectory of the sun.

"Let's keep moving," Tony said, but Stephen's hand shot out and stopped him, holding his arm.

“Tony, if…”

The Were turned back to him, concerned by his sudden change of tone.

Their eyes met and Stephen swallowed. His throat was dry and he tried again. “… if we don’t find a shelter and my skin starts burning, I want you to go on without me.”

“I won’t leave you behind, doc!” Indignation resonated in his voice.

Stephen shook his head because Tony didn’t understand. He now grabbed the Were's shoulders with both hands. His grip was weak and his hands shook a little, but his face was more serious than ever.

“Tony, I will lose control at some point and I don’t want you or anyone else near me when that happens. You have to be so far away, that I can’t even smell you. In fact, I should stay here to give you more of a head start. If anything happened… if I killed anyone… if I killed you – I could never…” A kiss from Tony interrupted him. Gentle, like a butterfly on a flower, but it was enough to shut the vamp up.

Tony’s eyes were determined when he looked back up to him. “I won’t let that happen. If you go feral, I will keep you from harming anybody. I promise.” He said it with all the conviction he could manage. “But I will not leave you here to die. Not if there’s a chance we will still make it. Okay?”

Slowly, Stephen nodded, but still objected. “It would be safer for you.”

“I’m perfectly safe with you. You’re the most composed vamp I’ve ever met. C’mon, let’s keep going.”

He pulled Stephen along and it took only a few steps for the vampire to start walking on his own again.

Tony side glanced at him. They were still holding hands.

“Besides, it would be less of a problem if you would drink my blood now to give you strength.”

The answer was as curt as last time he brought the topic up.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Stephen looked away. “I know if I tasted you, I would never want to have anything else. You smell like ambrosia."

A blush crept onto Tony's cheeks at those words. He wrestled a smile from himself. "Only you manage to seduce me while we are in an emergency situation. I gotta keep you alive just to hear more of that.”

Tumbleweeds accompanied their way. Driven by the gusting wind and with only the sounds of their own steps. They fell into a silence to conserve energy, and it grew heavier with each mile they traveled.

They had been walking for hours without encountering anything other than sand, stone and some shrubbery along the road.

They had let go of their hands at some point for it had gotten too warm and Stephen's skin seemed to crack even under the light touch of the Were, who was afraid to hurt him. Now Stephen's arms hung weakly down the side of his body. The cloak dragged him more than he was walking himself. His legs moved forward only mechanically.

His tongue hung heavily in his dry mouth and he had the feeling that if he spoke, he was hardly able to form a coherent word. He longed for a sip to drink.

He noticed how his skin became brittle and cracked. The protection spell slowly wore off and the sun began to take its toll. He would not last much longer.

Greedily, his eyes wandered to his companion. With iron willpower he suppressed his instincts, but his senses sharpened and he could hear Tony's blood pulsing softly in his veins.

It was calling to him.

And it promised to be delicious.

Stephen looked down at the ground, watching his feet as they took one step after another. They seemed foreign to him. As if they were not part of his body, but something alien.

They were getting faster and faster, driven by an invisible force.

It took Stephen a moment to realize that Tony had grabbed a tip of his cloak and was pulling him forward with renewed vigor.

It took a little longer for Stephen to understand that Tony was talking to him.

„… c’mon, doc. We’re almost there. I will bathe you in slushy and ice.“

They passed a sign announcing a gas station in three miles. Stephen stumbled. His awareness of his surroundings was slipping again. He trusted the Were enough to just follow it, even though his subconscious told him that in his current state it was a bad idea to go to a place with people.

Another, louder voice in his head disagreed. He was thirsty and this would be a great opportunity.

When the building finally came into view, Tony spurred him on even more. He dragged the vampire into the shadow of the gas station.

A big out-of-order sign hung on the gas pumps, and the building's windows were taped shut with foil.

But fuck it. Shelter was shelter.

The doors were locked, but with a well-aimed kick Tony kicked them open. He didn't care if he demolished them in the process.

Inside, empty shelves and refrigerated displays greeted them. There was a cash register on the counter but no merchandise. It looked like the gas station had been closed some time ago.

The air in here was stale but cooler than outside in the sun. A small hallway led to the restrooms and staff room.

That was where Tony dragged Strange and dumped him on a worn-out couch. The cloak flew off his shoulders and hung like a curtain on the window, darkening the room even more.

Stephen lay there for a moment as if dead. His joints burned when he tried to move even a few inches.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked while he was searching the closet, the only other piece of furniture in the narrow room. It was empty except for a few old newspapers. Nothing of use.

The vampire stared at him, only partially present mentally. It took a while for the words to get through to his brain.

He licked his lips. It felt so incredibly hot even in here. And the delicious blood was only a few feet away from him…

He shook his head to dispel those thoughts.

But he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. In the end, his survival instinct would win, he knew that.

The irregular panting he had gone over to and the pale look on the vampire's face did not please Tony at all. He took off the shirt turban to help him cool down faster.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Slinging the cloth over his shoulder, Tony exited the building through the main entrance and circled around it. At the back he had seen what had looked like a power generator when they arrived. And he indeed found such a device of considerable size in the shadow of the building.

The engineer examined the controls and hoped to get it working.

"Please don't leave me hanging," he muttered as he tried to fire it up.

On the second try, he heard the familiar hum.

"Yeah, that's it, baby."

It gave him hope that they would get out of here soon. He hurried back inside.

There was a cistern outside next to the generator, and when Tony turned on the tap in the bathroom, water came out of the pipe. A little stale and brown at first, but soon clear. It was lukewarm, but it would do.

He soaked the plaid shirt in it and then returned to Stephen to use it to wet his forehead and wrists like a fever-stricken patient, hoping it would regulate his body temperature down a bit.

Unfortunately, he had no ice on hand. It would take too long for the ice machines to produce any if he turned them on. But maybe he could knock over one of the refrigerated displays and use it as a cooling bed for Stephen. It would probably be quite uncomfortable for the vampire, but in his current state he could not value such luxury. This was a matter of survival.

Stephen stirred awake under him and interrupted his train of thoughts. The vamp still breathed heavily and his body felt like it was burning. With eyes glowing red, he stared at the Were above him.

Tony cupped his face. „I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you camping.“

The vamp’s face leaned into the touch, turned his lips towards it. He sensed the blood pulsing behind the delicate skin.

He opened his mouth, fangs out.

Tony was able to pull his arm back just in time before Stephen bit him. The vamp followed the movement, sat up jerkily. He noticed Tony's horrified look, and only now realized what he had just tried to do.

„Get out!“

Stephen’s voice was hoarse.

„Doc-…“

„No, please! Leave and lock the door.“

Stephen could feel his mind slipping. He tried to maintain control but it became harder and harder with each second passing.

He could see himself pushing his sharp teeth into Tony's neck and tasting the engineer's delicious blood. He would drink until there was nothing left. And he wouldn't care.

He wanted the blood.

He needed it.

Everything before his eyes blurred yet again and the smell of blood in his nose grew stronger.

He forced himself to remain still, to not move a finger in fear he wouldn't stop until they caught their prey.

When the Were heard the low, bestial growl from the vamp's throat, he finally complied.

„It’s going to be okay,“ Tony promised him.

There wasn’t any answer from Stephen. His scared fingers clawed into the wet fabric of the shirt to hold back from jumping at Tony.

The Were left the staff’s room. There wasn’t a lock on the door, so Tony pushed an empty vending machine in front of it.

Then he got to work: his sunglasses were still in his back pants pocket, still broken. He fished them out and gathered some additional equipment from the shop.

He happened to find no actual tools but managed to craft ones that would do the job. He also swiped some cables from a machine and microchips from the cash register. As long as he had some form of electricity, he could use it to power a temporary tinkered signal transmitter.

It wouldn't win any beauty contests, but that didn't matter.

Tony held his breath as the glasses, after everything was hooked up, made a soft beeping sound. "Jarvis?"

„I’m glad to find you alive, Sir.“

Relieved, Tony exhaled a breath he didn’t know he held and smiled. If he could, he would hug his A.I.. "Do you have a visual?" he asked instead.

„Negative. I do have your coordinates, though. Do you want me to send a suit?“

"Absolutely. And message Wong. Tell him I need him ASAP. And he needs to bring blood bags."

"Sir?" Concern resonated in that one word, but now was not the time to explain everything that had happened.

„Use a satellite to get a proper picture of this gas station. Hell, use google street view if available. He’ll need it to get here.“

„Understood. The suit’s ETA is 23 minutes and 45 seconds.“

A noise in the staff room made Tony look up briefly. „I might need it faster than that.“

„You are literally on the other side of the world, Sir.“

„I know, I know.“ Tony had yet to master instant transportation. In that regard, magic with its portals was really more handy. „What can you tell me about this area? Is there anything nearby?“

„There’s a town twenty miles in the west and another one a hundred miles in the south.“

Well, Australia was one big empty hell space. At least people were far enough off to be safe from whatever was going on with the vampire.

There was scratching on the other side of the door.

Tony, on the other hand, should probably be more worried about himself.

„Doc? You okay in there?“

There wasn’t an answer. Just eerie silence. Tony kept an eye on the door just in case.

„ETA 21 minutes and 26 seconds,“ Jarvis offered unhelpfully.

Without another warning, Stephen burst through the door. The vending machine fell over with a loud thud and its front glass shattered.

The vampire bared his sharp teeth as he sniffed the air. Bright red eyes zoned in on Tony.

He had lost any composure and now bore more resemblance to the bloodsucking monsters the Avengers normally fought.

Tony was standing perfectly still, not breaking eye contact. „You don’t want to do this.“

Strange snarled at him. Then he leaped.

Tony jumped over the counter. Fortunately, his reflexes were faster than those of an ordinary human.

He shifted mid-air, not caring about his ripped jeans and undershirt. When he hit the ground, he did so with four legs. Immediately he yanked around to keep his eyes on the vampire, which turned out as too slow anyway. Stephen was faster and crashed right into him, knocking him off his feet.

Tony collided with an empty store shelf and huffed.

That would give a big bruise tomorrow; if he survived today.

The vampire snarled and Tony was too slow to avoid the greedy teeth. But before he could bite him, Stephen was yanked back by the cloak. That gave Tony enough time to get back up.

The cloak was wrapped around Stephen's torso and arms, forcibly holding him back. The vampire thrashed, the sound of tearing cloth was heard, and the cloak flinched. With his superhuman strength, Stephen managed to free himself.

He didn’t use any magic, only working with his primal instincts. He was hungry, desperate for blood, and that made him unpredictable and dangerous. But also weak.

Tony didn’t want to hurt Stephen. Not really. But between dying and surviving he might have to make a tough choice.

Normally he preferred to fight against undead in his armor in human form. In it he was safe from bites, had his weapons and also the advantage of two thumbs. As a werewolf he wasn’t helpless, he had his claws and teeth, but on the other hand he didn’t truly want to hurt Stephen.

They demolished more and more of the furniture. Shelves fell over, the glass of a freezer broke when Stephen was hurled against it.

Tony managed to push Stephen with his weight on the floor near the front door, growling warningly at him.

The vampire thrashed, not thinking about calming down. Even if Tony had been able to speak to him in his present form, the vampire would not have listened to him. The rational part of his brain had shut down. There were no emotions left but rage and hunger.

Stephen didn't even recognize the Were. He needed blood and his primal instincts had taken control of his body.

An encounter with a vampire in this condition was usually fatal. To voluntarily offer him blood was bordering on insanity. No Vamp would be able to stop until they emptied their source out.

Tony shifted his position and moved his front leg in front of the vamp’s face. Strange took the bait. He managed to free one of his hands, grabbed the furry leg and sunk his teeth into it.

The Were whined in pain. The vampire was anything but gentle. With each sip he drank his sharp teeth moved in the flesh. Tony felt the life energy being drained out of him.

He waited only a few moments until he found he had given enough blood and before he became too weak to fight back. Then he kicked the nearby front door open. Sunlight poured in and Stephen hissed in agony. He let go of his meal and scrambled back into the darker corner of the room.

Tony moved in the other direction, limping slightly. To the door and outside.

There he was safe. For now.

The Vamp hissed. Where the sun had hit him, his skin turned dark like burnt coal. He was angry about the pain. But he was even angrier about the fact that his food source had disappeared.

He followed the trail and approached the windows. But he wasn’t able to face the sunlight.

The blood he got from the Were took off the edge of his thirst, but it was nowhere near enough. It also didn’t magically change him back into his regular self, like Tony had hoped.

Did he need more blood to regain awareness?

Or was the Vamp forever lost? Doomed to stay this mindless, instinct-driven monster? Was this the fate of vampires? What had happened to the others Tony had fought so far? He had never considered it necessary to ask these questions until now, and therefore, unfortunately, he had no answers.

A throbbing pain went through the bite wound on his leg and some more blood spilled. Stephen's eyes were fixed on it and he made angry noises for he couldn't reach him.

Tony felt the magic before he even heard it. It might have been because his senses were on high alert. It was the familiar feeling of frizzle and his ears twitched in that direction.

A gold-orange circle appeared in front of the gas station sign, forming a portal. It was probably the image Jarvis had found and forwarded.

Wong had a cooler bag shouldered and he hurried to the Werewolf as soon as he spotted him. „What happened?“ His gaze followed the Were's.

The man wasn’t known for emotional outbreaks but Tony recognized the signs of worry in his face when the sorcerer realized Stephen’s condition. “Oh no…”

He needed a second to collect himself, before he opened the cooler bag and pulled out a blood bag. „He won’t drink it if he smells us nearby.“

So, what he was saying was that they needed to shove it down his throat. Tony shifted back into his human form, not caring that he was now standing butt naked next to the other man.

„I’ll take care of it.“ Between the two of them, he was the better choice than the human. „J,“ he called inside. „What’s the ETA?“

„Two minutes and four seconds. Sir, might I add it is quite dangerous to-“

But Tony had stopped listening and turned back to Wong. „I need your magic as backup. And a pair of pants.“

The sorcerer only raised an eyebrow, but complied with the request and with a gesture he magically fetched a pair of pants from somewhere. They were slightly too long but would do.

Tony trusted his armor but still didn’t want to risk certain body parts getting injured by what was probably a stupid idea anyway.

Right on time, he heard the familiar sound of thrusters as his armor descended and landed next to him. It opened automatically for him to enter.

It was one of the sleeker versions, still agile and – the most important part – vampire safe.

Tony stepped toward it, turned, and the armor closed seamlessly around him. He took the cooler bag from Wong and ripped the first blood bag open when he stepped back inside the gas station.

To the normal eye, Stephen was invisible. He had adopted a new tactic and was hiding. Tony's sensors found him anyway and on his screen Tony saw that he was lurking behind a shelf.

Even mindless, the vampire wasn't an idiot.

"I got your juice box, doc." Tony waved it. "Come and get it. It's very yummy." He felt Wong rolling his eyes at him, which was totally unnecessary.

His focus remained on Stephen though, and when the vampire attacked him, he forcefully stuffed the red liquid down his throat.

At first the vampire swallowed the stuff reluctantly and he glared angrily at the armor. Then, however, his thirst took over and he went for the blood.

Tony immediately threw two more of the bags at him.

Like a junkie, Stephen tore them open and feasted on the tasty liquid until his face and clothes were smeared all over with red.

His breathing slowed. He was still pale, but his burns were already beginning to heal.

When the last reserve was emptied, Stephen looked back at Tony and growled softly. Though his thirst was quenched for now, his mind was still not back.

He had only grown stronger and used that to fling Tony away from him. He was about to jump after him as well, but before he could do so, a spell from Wong hit him, knocking him off his feet. He slumped down, unconscious.

Tony waited a few seconds to make sure the vampire didn't get up again before he opened his faceplate, still sitting where Stephen had thrown him. "Couldn't you have done that earlier?"

“No.” Wong didn’t elaborate.

Tony stood up and looked at Stephen's bloodied, motionless form. “Will he be back to normal when he awakes?”

Wong hesitated slightly before he answered. “Probably.”

The Were didn’t like the wavering uncertainty in his voice. But before he could ask, Wong moved his arm in a familiar circle and he portaled Stephen away.

"Where did you send him?"

“Somewhere safe to regenerate and wake up.”

He didn’t mention if it was safe for Stephen or for everyone else, and Tony didn’t ask. He was exhausted. It had been a long day and a long night even before they arrived involuntarily on this continent. He wouldn’t mind sleeping for a day or two.

Tony turned his head to Wong and noticed that he was watching him. But Tony was too tired to wonder how battered he looked on the outside.

Fortunately, Wong refrained from commenting.

“Can you give me a lift?” Tony asked and Wong nodded.

“Where to?”

Home. As much as he would like to stay close to Stephen, he would be to no use right now. And he had other stuff to take care of.

So he collected his glasses and had a portal created onto the roof of his tower.

This hadn’t turned out to be the camping trip he had had in mind.

________

Tag list: @jekyllhydetrash @goopierthenyou Tell me if you wanna be added/removed

[arjaandsimoni]

Just Say No to Supernatural Drugs

A long, long time ago, but slightly less long…

Through the darkened forests the creature ran, tree branches getting knocked aside by the large bony objects growing from its forehead, its hooves clattering on the occasional stone as bitter tears ran down its face. How dare he?! HOW DARE HE! This was HIS land! Those were HIS people! Yet against the invader's steel and their god's agents his followers were as nothing... cast aside and scattered, the men slaughtered, and the women dragged away.

Well, he'd gotten in a good few hits of his own. See how well that feathery bastard flies with his wing all twisted up. The creature's shining blood was still on his hands as he ran through the night, lit only by the moon above, trying to find safety, somewhere where it's friends couldn't follow...

He has wronged you too...

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once, the creature's hooves clattered and skidded to a halt on the forest floor as he looked around frantically for the source.

Who speaks? Show yourself! This is my land! Get out of the shadows where I can see you!

A deep chuckle echoed as the stars begin to dim, the moon growing dark above him.

It is not your land anymore. Your followers are gone, your temple has been put to the torch, all that is left for you is to flee to Shadow's Fall or fade away to nothing...

The creature snarled, a low feral animal sound, as it raised its hands, then sighed and stomped its hoof in frustration.

But WHY?! I had never heard of this Yahweh they spoke of! I know all the gods of the land! We have our agreements and our treaties! They stay to their places and I stay to mine!

The voice replied in a low hissing sound, as if it were some great serpent, or perhaps a hiding dragon...

It is their god's nature. He was once one I respected, lord of the Hebrews, but a splinter of him broke off and swelled and became something far far worse. I tried to stop this, and for my rebellion I was cast down... He now hungers for power, for all the world to become his and praise only his name. He will tolerate no other gods. He has already turned on those who worship the being he came from and he will turn on any who defy him.

The creature snorted, a loud wet sound like a warthog or buck might make.

Oh? And I suppose he sent you to finish the job of those shining men huh? Well come for me! I will show you how hard my hooves are, how sharp my antlers! This is still my land and I still have power here!

The voice hissed, and two blazing red holes appeared in the sky over the creature. It takes him a moment to realize that they're not holes, but great eyes.

I had something else in mind...

And then he saw the being's plans, he saw how he could become an instrument to fight the god that robbed him of everything, and like a wounded and desperate wolf he let out a low snarl.

I accept.

… and a moment later, the grove was empty, as if the strange being had never been. Several years later, full of fury and anger and wrath, a young Roman man who had more rage than intelligence made a very foolish decision, conjured up a demon from the depths of Hell… and let it in.

New Orleans, Present Day

Nelen snorted awake, trying to sit up, then gasped and clutched at his stomach, he lifted his shirt and saw the massive bruise on his gut, then hissed. “Fuuuuuuck… that’s going to hurt for a while…” he frowned. He squinted around, then found his eyeglasses and slid them on. Drusilla was laying on the bed next to him, watching television. Nearby he could see the sleeping form of Lupe, Dawn laying near her and using the werewolf like a pillow. Despite the species thing, she definitely felt a kinship with the lycanthrope due to the similarities they shared.

“Ah! Many-scars! Welcome back.” she chuckled, “Our friends said you fought a demon and got a good punch in on him.” she nodded.

Nelen coughed, “You… could say that, yeah…” he replied, hissing as he sat up further, “Where’s… where’s the others?” he asked.

As he did Dawn’s head popped up from behind the foot of the bed. “Oh hey, you’re back.” she said, “Yeah, they went out to dinner. Simoni is still kinda processing finding out that Merihim was used to commit a hate crime times… I dunno, sixty or so… and so the faeries, Natasha, Tex, and Arja went out to hit the town.” she nodded.

Nelen snarled, “Dammit, they should’ve waited for me! If Al really is in town I don’t want them wandering around alone!”

Dawn raised her eyebrow, “Nelen, I was there when you did that. It sounded like someone hitting a sack of wet cement. You’re not gonna be good for a lot for a bit. Besides, they’re not just random kids… they got this.” she grinned.

Drusilla frowned, “Hmm… yes, your sister mentioned this ‘Al’ to me… is he really as dangerous as she said?” she asked.

Nelen sighed, leaning back onto the bed. “Yeah… yeah he is… unless those kids can pull another couple gods out of their asses I really don’t like our odds here Drus.” he sighed.

Drusilla grinned, “Hah! Let him come!” she grinned, lifting Nelen back up and pulling him into a one-armed hug as he gasped. “If some demon wants to take MY man I’ll tear his head off by his horns and stab him through the heart with them!” she nodded.

Dawn smirked at Nelen as he flailed, “Yeaaaaaaaah, seeing why ya slept with this one Dumbledore.” she teased, going back to the TV and snuggling down into Lupe’s side, the werewolf waking up just long enough to nose her cheek.

Nelen coughed as he was released, rubbing his throat, “Yeah… yeah…” he chuckled, “Honestly… me too.” he admitted. She was a giant bear of a woman, but something about that he had to admit was hard for him to resist.

He just hoped she didn’t kill him when she found out why he was so terrified of Al’s return.

Meanwhile, near the coastline

The restaurant was for tourists, that much was obvious. Tacky voodoo masks, tiki torches all around, even voodoo dolls hanging near the tables. It was the kind of thing that the DeLanes, practitioners of real vodou, would have hated to see… except they had REAL problems to deal with beyond some restaurant misrepresenting them. Besides, it only served tourist crap so who cared?

The group was sitting outside at one of the open-air tables to enjoy the cool seaside breeze and the warm evening air, the weather clear and perfect for such things.

Arja finished off her second course, patting her belly in a satisfied way. She was glad that New Orleans had a large seafood selection. It made it far easier to keep away from eating beef, which in some parts of the United States was difficult indeed. “Well, at least we can say today ended with a good meal, eh?” she said.

Natasha frowned a bit, the vampire sitting next to a single glass of water, untouched. They’d told the waitress she was just here to be with her friends and had a very strictly controlled diet due to a ‘blood condition’ which wasn’t entirely lying… It helped that they were in New Orleans, the vampire’s archaic gothic fashion habits being far easier to overlook in such a city. Infact she’d had more than a few of the local goth community complement her and ask her where she found such a cute outfit… then look disappointed when she told them the name of a Romanian tailor who had been dead for almost fifty years.

“I will have to take your word for this Arja.” she replied icily. Being a vampire, she was a hemovore. She could eat some of the seafood platter Arja had enjoyed. She could also down a half bottle of ipecac syrup. Both would have the same result. Vampirism had many drawbacks, but one of the lesser-known ones was that vampires couldn’t eat or drink anything except for blood.

Sammi chuckled, enjoying a large plate of whitefish, “Well I’m enjoying myself…” he said, “I mean, its not a touch on some of the dishes mother’s kitchen can produce… but its quite delectable, nonetheless. Would be all the better with some crumbled winters sigh on it, but… well that’s just my opinion really.”

Simoni snorted, “Yeah, I doubt they offer herbs native to the Hedge on the menu here…” she muttered, picking at her chicken and shrimp platter, she’d barely touched it really. Idly she lifted up a shrimp to the collar of her shirt and Dusk’s head popped out, grabbing it, and vanishing back underneath again. The restaurant had a strict service animal only policy, but as kids who regularly broke the laws of reality and science, they weren’t concerned with small potatoes rules like that.

Stephy was seated next to Tex, the cowboy between him and Sammi, enjoying what the menu called a ‘junior margarita.’ A huge fruity half-frozen concoction that while looking much like a margarita was entirely non-alcoholic. He paused mid-sip, then sighed and pulled his mouth off it. “Ugh… Arja, could you take Simoni into the bathroom and, oh I don’t know, have a little fun with her in there or something?" he asked, wiggling his index and middle fingers for emphasis, “I mean, I can taste that…”

Arja snorted half her soda as Tex stared at the young fae ‘princess,’ Sammi letting out a loud laugh at the scene.

Natasha just looked confused. “A… foot massage?” she tried.

Tex leaned onto the table, looking a bit mortified at how blunt Stephy had just been, while Sammi grinned at him, “Darling, you really do need to learn how to read the room. As amusing as that was I fear Simoni may become cross with you…”

Stephy rolled his eyes, “Oh please brother… so Nelen’s little demon friend did something awful a century back. You don’t see me weeping for everyone that suffered under the gentry now do you?” he asked.

Tex glanced over, “Yeah ‘n I’ve really been meanin’ ta talk to ya’ll about that…” he muttered.

Simoni sighed, “No, Stephy has a point… this happened before Nelen was even born, hell before our grandparents were… its just… I get that Merihim does what his summoner wants, but… I dunno… after that and finding out about Rama’s Arrow and seeing him almost kill Akuru… I just need some time to process the past few weeks…” she frowned, poking at her food with her fork.

About three seconds later a car came flying down the street behind them, smashing end over end with a terrible crunch each time as the occupants screamed in terror, then finally skidded to a halt upside down.

Simoni sat bolt upright in her chair, her eye twitching a bit. “I SAID, I NEED SOME TIME DAMMIT!” she snapped, turning around as the group looked at the car, then back at the direction it came in.

Lurching up the road was a man… a scrawny looking human with a receding hairline dressed in a polo shirt, jeans, and worn-out sneakers with glowing green eyes. As he drew close both Sammi and Stephy gasped in pain and discomfort. Sammi clutched at his temples as Stephy’s hands went to his stomach, the boy princess looking rather ill suddenly.

“Augh… w-what… envy… that mortal reeks of envy!” gasped out Sammi, squinting to see him through the haze of discomfort the emotions were causing, the powerful feelings overwhelming his faerie senses. To the fae in their group he was at the center of a massive smog-like cloud of deep venomous green, like his body was emitting toxic fumes with each step!

Stephy looked like he was going to be sick! The faerie boy gripping his head with one hand and his middle with the other, “Augh… Oak and Ash my head! M-my stomach… I… I’m…” he whined, then turned and ran for the restrooms.

Tex growled, pulling out his cards. The gun he couldn’t carry in New Orleans openly and his dagger even would draw the police’s attention, but nobody cared about a deck of cards. Arja however held up a hand.

“Don’t!” she warned, glancing around at the others in the area. The restaurant was a popular tourist destination, which meant a lot of people had the means to take pictures.

Simoni nodded to Arja, and then took a breath and shrieked as the man with the glowing eyes drew closer. Most would assume it was just a frightened girl, at least until the wind suddenly howled and a blast of air shot through the area. Tex was quick on the uptake and shoved the deck back into his pocket, but the other patrons shouted and swore as cameras and smartphones went flying into the next lot over!

As the others ran to claim their precious devices Arja nodded to Simoni, then jumped the fence and ran at the man, her body sprouting golden fur as she leapt, aiming a drop-kick right to his head!

As he did Sammi made a complex gesture, speaking in some ancient dialect of French, and the ground froze behind him. Arja’s kick sent him sprawling, and the man skidded across a sudden patch of ice straight into an alleyway across the road. “GO! NOW!” he shouted.

The rest of the team bolted into motion. Tex and Natasha leapt over the fence as Simoni looked to the stricken car. The doors had broken and were stuck against the frame, the people inside were trapped!

“Not supposed to do this but…” she reached into her shirt and pulled Dusk out by the scruff of his neck, holding him in her hand, “Get those humans out of here!” she said, pointing to the car.

Dusk grinned, raising one kitten paw in salute, “Gimme a boost?” he asked.

She stood as if pitching a softball, then threw him as hard as she could at the car, “CHESHIRE! I CHOOSE YOU!” she called out, whistling sharply to give him a tailwind.

Dusk yowled as he sailed through the air, then landed with all his claws on the left front tire of the car, scrambling quickly inside of it to where two people were trapped. He touched his front paw to one and his rear paw to another… and then reality had a burp, and the car was suddenly empty.

Simoni ran through the gate as he did this, then chased after the others, her sandals splashing through the puddle of water that the hot Louisiana air had turned Sammi’s ice into as Stephy emerged from the restroom, his face green.

In the alleyway however, a battle was breaking out.

Arja snarled and tackled the green-eyed man, trying to knock him to the ground, but despite his scrawny body he was extremely strong!

“What the hell is your problem?!” she snarled, “Are you trying to get the mundanes to get out the pitchforks and torches here?!”

Natasha however was staring at him, manipulating the shadows in the alleyway to try to form manacles to bind him in place. “Arja… this one... he is corrupted, but he is a mortal man!” she gasped, her vampire senses telling her that the person she was looking at was nothing more or less than an ordinary human, but also warning her NOT to bite him whatever she did. “There is something in the blood! Some sort of chemical!”

Sammi nodded, having pulled his rapier seemingly from nowhere as he tried to aim for something non vital that could cripple him, but every time he drew close, he had to leap back to dodge a swing from the man’s arm. “Truly? The mortal is drugged?” he asked in shock.

Tex frowned, the boy having gotten a sturdy looking length of wood from a low draw on a spade, but one that seemed stained with blood, the next card up was a heart. “Guys, if this is a normal human he needs help, not a beat down! Somebody must’ve done somethin’ to him!”

The man snarled, his eyes glowing a violent shade of green, his face twisted into a mask of fury, “I’LL KILL THEM! BOTH OF THEM! THAT WHORE THINKS SHE’S BETTER THAN ME JUST BECAUSE HER NEW FUCKBUDDY WORKS FOR APPLE?!” he snarled, kicking Arja away and tearing free of the shadows, then turning and shoving past Sammi before retreating into the alleyway, vanishing into the night.

Simoni caught up with them at this point, watching him go, then looking at her allies. “What. The actual hell. WAS THAT?!” she gasped.

Arja stood up, rubbing her side, “A really pissed off mundane apparently…” she hissed through her teeth, "But… Natasha said he’d been ‘corrupted’ somehow?” she looked at the vampire.

She nodded, “Indeed Arja. I could smell some substance in his blood, and I saw needle marks on his arms, many of them.” she frowned, “I had seen such in Bucharest before. Mortals fond of… injecting chemicals into their bodies for some sort of emotional and physical pleasure.”

Tex frowned, “A junkie? So… what, he got a bad batch?” he asked.

Sammi looked up, “… yes, and it appears it wasn’t just affecting him.” he said, sounding concerned.

Stephy stumbled into the alleyway, “… guys, I don’t feel good…” he whimpered, his head throbbing. He had clearly thrown up moments before.

Tex ran forward, catching him in his arms. “Eaaaasy lil’ filly… I gotcha…” he whispered, helping Stephy stand up and leaning the boy into him. “That thing really took it outta ya’ll didn’t it?” he noticed, the odd change to his voice was gone, as far as his mortal senses could tell.

Sammi nodded, “Glamour poisoning, like food poisoning for mortals… it would appear my poor brother ‘lost his lunch’ in more ways than one.” he said, looking back at the direction the creature fled in. “What, in all the worlds, did we just fight?”

As the puzzled over this there was a faint thunderclap and Dusk appeared on Simoni’s shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “Humans are safe!” he declared, “Got ‘em a few streets over and they ran away like scared mice!”

Simoni smiled and scratched at his chin, the Cheshire kitten purring loudly, “Good job Dusk, sardines for you tonight!” she nodded as the kitten cheered and wagged his tail excitedly.

Arja nodded, “Well, one problem solved at least. Hopefully if they post anything online it’ll just be treated as more urban legend garbage… still, we need to head back and tell Nelen. Maybe he’s seen something like that before.”

About twenty minutes later the group walked back into the hotel room that Nelen and Drusilla shared, save for Stephy and Tex. The former limped to their own room, the latter helping him get there.

Nelen looked up, frowning, then pointed at the TV. It showed the street infront of the café, now with several cop cars and the area around the destroyed vehicle roped off with yellow tape. “Well?” he asked in an annoyed tone.

Simoni shrugged, “It wasn’t our fault. It was some mundane all hopped up on some crazy drug of some kind. He had these big green glowing eyes and was screaming something about getting dumped or something.” she explained.

Nelen looked up, “A supernatural drug?” he asked, “Huh, Dawn and I got called in to deal with a few of those…” he looked over at the Cheshire, “Remember the time we had to deal with that dealer near Roswell that was selling Red Martian?” he asked.

Dawn hissed, “Yeeeeeaaaah… that was a bad one, at least we were able to take care of the guys who overdosed on the stuff.” she replied.

Arja looked confused, “… Red… Martian? What the heck is that?” she asked.

“Its… a sort of weed that grows on Mars. Really rare because of how thin the atmosphere is, but if you smoke enough of it you turn into a Martian… and… that’s bad.” he replied, “Dunno how the hell that joker found it, but the local potheads went nuts for it. One hell of a high until the bad stuff kicks in.”

Arja nodded, “Riiiight, well… whatever this was it wasn’t smoked. Natasha said she could tell this guy injected it into herself.”

Natasha nodded at them, sitting on the floor, and stroking over Lupe’s head as the werewolf wagged happily at her return. "Arja is correct. There were marks on his arms for injections, and the chemical was in his blood. Trust me Nelen, vampyr can tell.” she nodded, “We would all be insane or addicted if we could not.”

Nelen frowned, scratching his chin, “… so, something in his blood… did you guys manage to get any of it?” he asked, looking up.

Sammi stepped forward, unsheathing his rapier, and showing it to the warlock. The silvery metal was indeed stained with crimson. “That we did, I wasn’t able to land a killing blow, but I was at least able to give him a few reminders of our meeting.” grinned the fae prince.

Nelen smirked, then held out a hand towards it… and nothing happened.

He blinked, then flexed his fingers… then frowned and flexed them harder… then snarled and smacked the palm of his hand against his head, “WAKE UP ASSHOLE!” he snapped.

Nelen’s body shuddered, then his eyes went blood red, and he scowled.

“Still suicidal Fullmoon? Fuck you and New Orleans. I’m sitting this out.” said Merihim.

His eyes changed back, and Nelen glared at the far wall, “Merihim, stop being a little shit. This mundane was on some sort of supernatural garbage and you can tell what it was without affecting me, so do your damn job!”

He shook all over, his eyes turning red once more, “NO GODSDAMN WAY NELEN! You say this is my job?! Fine then! Until we are back in India and the HELL away from whatever Al is doing I. AM. ON. STRIKE! I am NOT going to face his wrath if you wind up crossing him! Hell is bad enough already!” he shouted, then Nelen sagged and clutched his head as Merihim retreated into the depths of his consciousness to sulk.

Nelen shook his head, trying again, then swore, “Fuck… fuck fuck fuck… Merihim is serious, my powers aren’t working!” he stared at his hand.

Drusilla growled, muttering something about cowardice, but Arja snorted. “Huh, big bad rakshasa-mauling demon is afraid of some guy named Al? Suddenly I’m a lot less scared of him.”

Nelen’s hand involuntarily made a very rude gesture at Arja, the warlock smacking his arm back down. “That was him, not me.” he said, “Right, shit… how else are we gonna figure out what that was… I mean it might be unrelated to whatever Al is planning, but something that potent sure as hells isn’t a normal dealer. They want to get their customers addicted and dependent, not turn them into monsters.”

Natasha looked at it, frowning, “Perhaps… if I could sample it…” she began.

Simoni however immediately moved between Sammi and her, “Natasha no!” she shook her head, “A mundane on that threw a car across a street, I don’t think I want to know what it would do to a vampire!” she protested, “Nelen, is there ANYTHING you can think of?” she asked.

Nelen scratched at his chin, then took out his smartphone, “I might… just hope he’s there.” he nodded, dialing a number…

After a moment, a serpentine voice answered, “Wulfssshead Club, how the fuck did you get thisss number?” spoke Clotho, the gorgon bartender.

“Clotho, hey, its Nelen. Is Harry Fabulous in the club tonight?” he asked.

“Oh hi Nelen!” she replied, “Letsss sssee… ah yesss! He’sss right over there, hold on…” she said, and then her voice went quiet as she yelled across the bar with it held away from her, “HARRY! PHONE FOR YOU!”

Nelen waited, then put the phone on speaker as a man’s voice came on, sounding like the car salesman of everyone’s nightmares. The kind of huckster that sells you a tried-and-true sportscar whose engine falls apart and wheels fall off exactly the day after the warranty runs out.

“Hello hello hel-lo! Harry Fabulous, purveyor of exotic delights and delicacies at your service! How may I help you today?” he said cheerfully.

“Harry, its Nelen. Look, I’m in New Orleans with those kids I’ve been helping and they just had an encounter with a mundy all jacked up on some crazy supernatural shit. If you don’t have it, you probably know what it is at least, so we got some questions.” replied the warlock.

“Now now Nelen…” tutted Harry, “I can’t just give you information, I’m a businessman! How about some nice Revert hum? Get in touch with your wild side? Maybe a little Angel Dust? See heaven, if only for a little while?” he asked.

Nelen smirked then, “Harry, you’re going to tell me this because I know why the air vents at the Mammon Emporium started spitting blood and scarab beetles that night several years back, and I have John Taylor’s phone number.”

Harry grumbled, “… bully, just like you Fullmoons…” he huffed, “Fine fine… I don’t want Taylor finding out about THAT little incident… well, out with it, what happened?” he asked.

“Alright kids, tell him.” said Nelen.

Arja spoke up first, “Okay, so this guy was a mundane, and whatever he was on was injected into him, so some sort of liquid drug. His eyes were glowing green, but like literally glowing like car headlights, and he was superhumanly strong. He threw a car down a street and fought of me and several of my friends together. I’m with a vampire, a garuda, and a changeling, and I’m a vanara, so that says something. I can take an adult mundane by myself.” she replied.

Harry paused for a moment, “Hmm… I see… that could be a lot of things, however. He could have raided a government compound for one of the old super soldier serum projects or maybe he had brewed up something himself, you’d be amazed what you can find online these days…” he replied, “Anything else odd about him? Anything at all?”

Sammi stepped forward, “Yes, there was. I’m the changeling she spoke of, and that mortal was practically pissing envy out of every pore. To my senses he was like an ambulatory smog bank of poisoned air.”  he said.

“AHA!” shouted Harry, “I have it! Your junkie of a mundane was completely off his tits on Hyde! Though, perhaps not just Hyde… that does some stuff to you yes, but it won’t turn someone into the Incredible Hulk, at least not by itself.” he muttered.

“Hyde…” sighed Nelen, “Yeah, that sounds about right. Thanks Harry, I’ll call you again if I need to blackmail more intel out of you.” he replied, hanging up the phone and sighing, then taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

“Hyde…” muttered Simoni, “Nelen, you don’t mean like ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ do you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean exactly that. Hyde is a modernized version of Jekyll’s old recipe, souped up for modern junkies who think meth is too wussy.” he replied, “Put it like this: everyone has a vice. Some inherent thing that they get off on even though they know it’s wrong. Envy, Lust, whatever. Hyde finds the dial for that vice, cranks it up as high as it’ll go, and rips the dial off.” he explained, “But… Harry is right, the effects are all mental. It won’t turn you into a monster unless it’s mixed with something else.”

Arja frowned, “Yeah… and now that guy is gone too… He could be anywhere in New Orleans by now.” she sighed.

Dawn looked up, chomping on a bag of kitty treats like they were popcorn, “Hm… well, we could always just keep an eye on the news until he starts breaking some more stuff.” she said.

Simoni blinked, “Breaking… oh… oh no…” she whispered, “Guys, he’s not just going to randomly rampage! Remember what he was shouting? He has a target!” she gasped.

Arja stared at her, the vanara girl looking around, “Oh crap you’re right! Those two in the car! He was after them, that must’ve been the people he was screaming about when we fought him!”

Simoni looked around nervously, “Um… um… maybe they ran away somewhere to hide? I mean, some lunatic with super strength tosses my car down the street, great time to go visit family in Michigan, right?” she asked.

Nelen hissed, sitting up and clutching at his still bruised middle. “No… no they would not…” he shook his head, “They’d assume he gave up or got arrested or something sane happened. They probably went right back home… and if he knows where they live, then he’s going there to kick the door in, and then their faces. Seen it happen so damn many times working for the Wulfshead… you’d think people never saw any horror movies!” he snarled.

Simoni looked around, “W-well what are we waiting for?!” she rushed to the window, pushing it open and climbing out onto the fire escape. “Arja! Sammi! C’mon! I can probably manage both of you, but we have to hurry!” she nodded, transforming into her Garuda form as the two followed her out.

A moment later she was frantically flapping her wings, trying to gain altitude with the extra weight of the faerie boy added to her usual passenger… but she needed him. Neither she nor Arja could sense emotions!

Meanwhile, in Tex’s hotel room

Stephy sat on his bed, a plastic bag filled with hotel ice pressed to his head, “T-thanks Tex…” he muttered, holding it there as the Texan boy sat down next to him.

“Not a problem at all darlin, but…” he sighed, “Stephy… can we talk?” he asked. “I’m… I’m worried ‘bout ya. Seems like every time ya’ll come back from Fairyland ya’ll are… I dunno, all wound up… like its changin’ ya somehow. I mean…” he shook his head, “I’m not sayin’ its all bad, yer always a lot more confident ‘n such… but… other times its like yer kinda… off kilter… like last night when ya’ll were gonna use yer magic to keep that clothin’ shop’s workers from leavin’ so ya’ll could shop more…”

Stephy looked away, “… yeah, I know…” he muttered.

Tex continued, “… ‘n not just that… its like ya’ll’re gettin’ mood swings, but the really crazy kind… I just…” he put his arm around Stephy, “… I just don’t wanna see ya’ll become somethin’ like Isolde…” he muttered.

Tex expected Stephy to get upset at that, or offended, or call him crazy.

What he didn’t expect is for him to whisper, “… I’m not trying to… but…”

Tex looked at him, “… but?” he asked.

Stephy shook his head, “Arcadia… its… its everything I ever wanted before I met you. I have a mother, a brother, I’m loved and treated well, I can finally be who I want to be… I…” he whispered, “I’m like a starving man who walked into a feast… I don’t want it to ever end…”

Tex nodded, “… ‘n I don’t wanna deny ya’ll that but…”

Stephy nodded, “Yeah… its… just how Arcadia is… the longer I’m there, the harder it is to stop being, well…” he looked up at him, his blue eyes looking scared, “… stop being a faerie. I… I don’t want to stop, but… Tex… when Sammi said he didn’t know how to be human…” he shuddered, “I… I feel like I’m forgetting how…”

Tex looked into Stephy’s eyes, then held the boy tight to him, “Darlin’… I… I really don’t know what to tell ya’ll… didja tell Nelen ‘bout this? That ol’ wizard might have an answer.”

Stephy shook his head, “I… p-part of me doesn’t want an answer though. Even right now, even though I’m lucid now because of that thing making me sick and making me lose all the stored-up glamour I brought back with me… Its… its making me wanna go back and get it back… and more… I…” he shuddered, “Tex I can’t stop… I don’t WANT to stop…” he chuckled, smiling in an odd way, “I… I want more of it… I want to feel that in my mind and soul…” he giggled, his eyes flashing blue as he smiled a bit too widely. “I want to dance in the snowfields outside my mother’s castle and sit on the throne of Arcadia and bring new mortals to her lands to play with and drink deeply of the wine and music and glory of her lands and never ever return to this drab dull world where people die when you need them and the monsters live forever and…”

“STEPHY!” shouted Tex, taking his cheeks in his hands and holding them tight, his eyes full of fear for his lover.

Stephy froze, almost literally, his lips blue and his ears seeming pointed even to Tex’s eyes… his mortal mask slipping just a little and allowing Tex to see what was beyond it now, the shining golden hair, the icy blue lips, the pointed ears, the eyes so blue it almost hurt to look at them… everything.

 “… and… then I remember you… and your kindness… and how you gave me your hand and pulled me out of the Hell I was in… and… I remember why I want to come back…” he whispered, his features slowly returning to normal. “Tex… I… I can’t stay away from Arcadia… I don’t want to… but… I’m afraid not to…” he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around Tex’s body.

Tex held him close, stroking his head, “… it’s a tightrope lil’ filly… I don’t wanna deny you this… but… too much of it…”

Stephy nodded, “… too much of it and I won’t be able to be human anymore… and I’m afraid I’ll forget how to love you…” he looked at Tex, “Give me your hand Tex…” he whispered.

Tex hesitated, looking at him, but something in Stephy’s eyes urged him onwards. He clasped his hand to Stephy’s.

“Promise me… promise me on your true name as John Smith, that you’ll pull me back if I go too far…” he whispered, his eyes full of fear… but also longing. He was afraid to go back, but he wanted to… oh good gods he wanted to.

“I promise… I swear it on whatever ya’ll care to name lil’ filly… ya’ll go too far inta Fairyland… sure as my name is John Smith I’ll come, face any Trouble ya’ll got, ‘n pull ya back… so long as ya’ll promise me… you’ll try not to stay too long.” he replied.

Stephy nodded slowly, “This I swear, upon Everfalling Snow…” he replied, smiling softly at Tex, “Thank you…” he whispered.

Tex held him tight, “… Darlin, ya’ll didn’t even need ta ask…” he whispered.

Downtown New Orleans

Simoni landed on a rooftop, the garuda gasping for breath. “Okay… carrying two people is HARD…” she said as she gulped down air.

“THREE people!” huffed Dusk, the Cheshire sitting astride Arja’s shoulder now.

“You barely weigh anything compared to us Dusk. I’m sure Simoni meant human-sized people.” commented Arja.

Sammi however scanned the area around them, opening his faerie senses as wide as he could. All around them the emotions of the citizens of New Orleans swirled like clouds. A nearby apartment glowed pink with Joy and Excitement over a baby shower.

A purple cloud hovered over an intersection; Fear, Anger, and Panic mixing at the scene of a car wreck when someone ran a red light in their haste to get home, only to hit someone coming the other way.

A swirl of red Fury billowed up from the parking lot of a nearby bar where two drunken men were having a fistfight… and then he saw it.

Mixed into the cloud of emotional resonance was a plume of deeply toxic dark green Envy. “I have him.” he said, pointing four streets over. “That way, and…” he narrowed his eyes, a burst of dark red and orange billowing up, “Fear… no, Terror!” shouted the fae princeling, “He’s found his victims! GO!”

Simoni nodded, bending down for Arja and Dusk to climb on, and looked at Sammi.

“I will make my way back and inform the others we’ve found our quarry. I could barely focus enough to fight last time! It was by sheer chance I struck him at all. Hurry!” he nodded, rushing to the far end of the roof and gesturing with one hand. A chill wind rose, and a bridge of ice formed, the prince leaping onto it and sliding across, then doing it again at the far end of that roof as well, the bridges swiftly melting away each time.

Simoni and her allies took flight, arcing towards the direction Sammi pointed in, then descended. Halfway down the building Simoni flapped her wings and paused in midair, hovering. “What the hell…” she whispered.

The man was there, but it appeared the state he was in earlier was only the early stages! He had swollen into a massive beast now, his clothing tearing apart with his enlarged bulk. The Hyde-junkie was now taller than Drusilla, his body swollen with green sores that glowed the same as his eyes. Whatever he was on, it was turning him into a real monster! He was tearing apart the front of a house, and screams were coming from inside!

Simoni nodded, “Dusk! Same as before, get the mundanes to safety!” she said, pointing towards the house.

“Double sardines!” he shouted back, then vanished from Arja’s shoulder. The vanara girl stood up on Simoni’s back, then threw a fireball as hard as she could at the monster below them, enhanced by a burst of wind causing it to double in size!

It had all the effect of a water balloon.

The pair landed, but the screams were still coming. “We need to buy Dusk time!” shouted Arja, she grabbed a piece of brick that the creature had knocked free, then lobbed it at him. It smacked into his head with a loud thunk, and he paused… “HEY ASSHOLE! I’M JUST A KID AND MY FAMILY HAS MORE MONEY THAN YOU’LL EVER SEE! HOW’S THAT FOR ENVY?!” she shouted.

The Hyde-monster turned, and Arja swallowed. Its eyes were massive now, glowing green lamps in the darkness, and its teeth had become long sharp fangs. It snarled wordlessly then lunged at them, and Arja screamed and dove to the side as Simoni immediately too to the air, the beast slamming into the building next to them and bringing most of it down!

Yet even this didn’t stop it, the monster dug itself free, roaring like a furious bull. Then the once-human Hyde realized the screams from the house had stopped. Dusk had found the occupants and gotten them out and now it turned its gaze to Arja and Simoni. Twice they had denied him the objects of his hatred… and it seemed he was still lucid enough to realize that.

Arja hesitated, “Simoni… this thing is too much for us… but if we leave…” she said as the Garuda swooped low.

“Yeah… it could rampage and destroy the entire block… we can’t just run away!” she nodded, “But… we need help! We can’t use the firebird here, we could set a building on fire by accident!”

Arja looked up and around, “Dammit, Sammi had better hurry… if… wait…” she narrowed her eyes, “Simoni… someone is on that roof!” she pointed.

Simoni looked up, squinting, and saw moonlight reflecting off crimson hair. Then a voice cried out, “OI! UP HERE YE GREAT UGLY LUMP!” and the figure lept off the roof, a flash of steel shining in the light as they fell.

“That voice!” gasped Simoni as the creature looked up and lashed out with its claws, but the figure twisted in midair, and the monster screamed in pain and rage as two feet of sharpened metal sank into his shoulder!

The wielder leapt free and dodged his claws, then landed next to the girls, smirking up at the monster. She had fiery red hair and shining green eyes and wore a black tank top over a tight chest binder and military cargo pants, along with sturdy army surplus boots. “Miss me, cous?” grinned Loren Fullmoon.

“I don’t know how or why, but I’m glad you’re here!” she grinned back, “Loren, that guy is a human, but he’s on some kind of enhanced Hyde!” she warned.

Loren looked up and whistled as the Hyde-monster tried to wrench her sword out of his shoulder. “Daaaaaaamn… aye, looks like some stunningly powerful shite…” she nodded, pulling a combat knife out of her boot and standing ready.

The monster ripped her sword free, doing more damage in the process, but it didn’t seem to care. It lunged forward suddenly, so fast it was nearly a blur, and Loren’s eyes went wide, “AH HELL! LOOK OUT!” she shouted, shoving the girls hard to the right, then snarling as it slammed its bulk into her, sending her flying backwards into the building! “OI! FOUL!” she yelled angrily from inside the wrecked building.

Arja and Simoni scrambled to their feet, then the vanara jumped ontop of her garuda partner and they took to the air again. “Simoni! Keep him distracted! Loren might be able to stop him, or at least slow him down!” she shouted, conjuring two blasts of fire. “HEY! RICH GIRL RIGHT HERE! JUST A KID BUT I HAVE MULTIPLE CREDIT CARDS! BE ENVIOUS OF ME UGLY!” she called down, tossing the flames at him, and yet again they didn’t even singe him. Whatever he’d turned into was fireproof!

The monster grabbed a large hunk of rubble, then threw it up at them, and Simoni yelped and swooped low to dodge, but its arm lashed out and sent the pair sprawling onto the pavement. Simoni gasped and shifted back, rubbing her arms.

“Are you okay?!” shouted Arja.

“J-just bruised… but…” she replied, “My arms are hurt! I can’t fly like this!” she warned.

Arja growled, standing between her and the Hyde-monster as it lunged again, then suddenly it fell short.

Loren had one hand around it’s ankle, the other grabbing a nearby lamppost. “GOTCHA!” she laughed, “Yer a fast bastard, eh? WELL RUN ON THIS MONSTER!” she snarled, grabbing his foot with both hands, and twisting hard. A loud snap broke the air like a gunshot and the monster bellowed in fury and pain. Loren had broken his ankle!

She ran forward, standing between him and Simoni next to Arja as the monster struggled up, and its body seemed to swell again, its eyes lit bright enough to light up the whole area… “Ah bugger…” she growled… “... wait…”

The monster swelled, then suddenly it spasmed all over, its body shaking with sudden furious tremors! It coughed and gagged, and a burst of greenish bile splashed onto the pavement, steaming and bubbling where it landed… then slowly it fell to the ground, gasping several times… before falling still with a final weak growl.

“… what just happened?” asked Arja, each hand still holding a fireball.

“… I think it died…” replied Loren, “ ‘ang on, I’ll check.” she nodded.

She walked over, crouched down next to its head, then slowly stuck her dagger in its eye, then withdrew it. The monster didn’t even flinch.

“… aye, seems pretty dead.” she commented. “… eh, best be sure.” she added.

She stuck the dagger in the other eye, then in the first eye again, then in both eyes one after the other.

“Aye, definitely dead.” she confirmed.

Loren then stuck the dagger in and out of his eye several times. She seemed to enjoy doing it.

“Well, Loren… we’re really REALLY glad you’re here… but… why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the members of Clan Fullmoon in India keeping the manticore at bay?” asked Simoni.

“Ach, th’ lads can handle that big ol’ pussycat.” she replied, standing up, “Jeannie told me ta come ‘ere personally… she took a peek at New Orleans’ future ‘n gels… it ain’t good.” she frowned, “Ye’d better take me ta see Nelen. Shite’s ‘bout ta hit th’ fan…”

About an hour later…

Nelen stared at Loren, the warlock’s face a mask of disbelief. “… Jeannie saw WHAT?” he asked.

Loren leaned against the far wall, “ ‘zactly wut I said cous. If th’ future dunnae change by March, New Orleans is gonna get blasted off th’ bloody map…” she replied, “ ‘n that’s just th’ beginnin'… it’ll start some kinda Civil War in th’ States. We dunnae have all th’ details, Morrigan be havin’ trouble tryin’ ta see it so somethin’ be blockin’ the Maven… but aye… this stops, or else…” she frowned, nodding.

Nelen stared at the far wall, feeling numb, “… its Al… it has to be…” he whispered, “He’s powerful enough to block Morrigan’s scrying, but… why?” he shook his head, rubbing his temples. “Dammit, we’ve got to get back to India and deal with that Manticore, we don’t have time for another crisis!” he shouted.

Tex sighed, shaking his head as he sat next to Stephy, the two holding hands, “Don’t think we got a choice Nelen… we ain’t lookin fer trouble, but trouble found us anyway.” he nodded, “I ain’t leavin’ if this’ll start some kinda second Civil War! My whole family is in America!”

Nelen growled, “There’s more to this. Kids, we need to figure out whats going on. Find out where the hells that Hyde came from.” he nodded.

Simoni looked up, “You think that ‘Al’ guy is behind it?” he asked.

Nelen nodded firmly, “He was a master alchemist and potion maker, if anyone knew how to make Hyde do that… it’d be him…”

Loren nodded, “Aye… now cous, we got somethin’ else ta do.” she grinned.

“Whats that?” he asked.

Loren grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, “We gotta wait ta find out where this bastard is, so I say we go barhoppin’!” she laughed, “To th’ Wulfshead!” she shouted as Dawn grinned and leapt up.

“WOOO! AFTER BRAWL BOOZEAHOL!” cheered the Cheshire as Drusilla stood up herself, following them out.

“Sounds like a DAMN good idea to me.” laughed the cyclops.

Somewhere…

In an old factory, production was in full swing. Large brewing vats bubbled with a glowing vile liquid. The fumes swirled above them, but the workers didn’t seem to worry about… but then, it wasn’t like they needed to breathe.

“So, how is it coming along then?” grinned a man in a green suit right out of the Victorian era, his eyes hidden by a pair of dark smoked glasses.

“… its coming Sir…” grunted his companion, a shorter person, in a black trenchcoat with a hood hiding their face.

“Lovely! Marvelous!” he chuckled, “Oh this is going to be quite the show…” he smiled widely.

“We… have a situation though Sir… the special ingredient you used to enhance it has run out.” the hooded figure said.

This gave the man pause, “Really? BLAST!” he snarled, “That’s not exactly something I can pick up at Walmart…” he frowned, then sniffed at the air, “Hmm… I’m sensing a couple potential sources nearby… I suppose tomorrow I’ll just have to pop out and go harvest one.” he grinned.

As he said this there was a sudden woosh of fire and brimstone, and a massive muscular creature stood near him. “Hey boss, the junkie, the one we shot up, it died.” It spoke, its voice rumbling like a thundercloud.

“It did?” he sighed, “Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to inform Buer that the option to gift some of our mortal minions this stuff is off the table. No good if it outright kills the little bastards.”

“Um… its not just that boss. It was fightin’ someone. Two kids, some kinda monkey girl and her bird friend… and… um… I’m pretty sure it was a Fullmoon with ‘em.” replied the demon.

The man paused, looking at the demon quizzically. “A Fullmoon you say?” he asked. “That’s a name I have not heard in quite some time…” he mused. “Well well well…” he looked up, then grinned, “Ah yes… I can sense Merihim’s presence in town, and if he’s here then so is my wayward apprentice! What a lovely little co-incidence!” he cackled, “Well… this is interesting indeed…” he murmured.

The hooded figure grunted, “I’m going to go make sure the graveyard shift is doing their duties…” they said, walking out onto the production floor.

The two watched her go, “Tsk… well, at least that one is gonna do her part. Just gotta remind her why she joined up in the first place ta keep her in line.” said the large demon, “Its almost sad really…” he chuckled.

“Sad? Oh Quzgup…” said the Victorian gentleman as he slid off his glasses, grinning as his red, goat-slitted eyes were revealed, “Nobody will be sad in New Orleans soon… They’ll be many, many things… but certainly not sad…” laughed Al.

Next Story

Previous Story

[whispering-jabberwocky]

Oh baby, my time has come!

I'm actually a huge name nerd and most (not all) of my brainchildren have a very meaningful names. Let's start!

Samir Rihh

He is my dnd character: rogue/wizard air genasi. We play in an fantasy setting inspired by India, Africa and Middle East. He was inspired by the tale of Alibaba and Forty Thieves.

First of all, his surname is, I think, morroccan and it means "wind". I'm not 100% sure since it was a wild google search some time ago, and I can't find this page anymore.

His first name was given to him after his great grandmother - Samira, who loudly and proudly banged a djinn for money. The name actually has two meanings, depending on a country of origin. In India it would mean "a light breeze". In arabic countries it means "companion in evening talk". Both match him pretty well, especially after heartfelt conversation with Lia during night watch.

Now, before he was using his bithname, he used a lot of nicknames. Our dnd party met him under "Nine". It was simple, he only got nine fingers at the time. I really wanted to play with someone with a weird nickname then. After he get his missing finger back, he began colling himself "Spectre", because that is what Tanit, our necromancer and his best friend, was calling him, after their first meeting in the desert. She saved his life, as he was stumbled upon a caravan she was traveling with, almost bleeding to deat due to his famous finger getting chopped off. His other known nicknames include "Dragonfly" and "Blackbird". Granted, all of them sound different to us, since we play in Polish.

Lanaya

She was my first dnd character. A wood elf druid, who is secretly a werewolf.

I must say, I did not do her justice. I had trouble playing her properly as I never really get a good grip of who she is.

She was raised in a pretty hippie elven society, where there was a druid in every family. Everyone knew each other, so nobody bothered with surnames. Therefore she doesn't have one.

As for her name i ripped it of from Dragon Age Origins, but also kind of meaningfully. In the game, Lanaya was a First to the Keeper of the Dalish clan, that the Warden may recruit to stop the Blight. However, the Dalish currently have problem with werewolfs attacking their camp.

Mash

Mash is my sweet baby warforged warlock.

The thing is there are some gender shenaningans about them. As his owner never gave him a proper name and called them simply Machine (Maszyna in Polish), they were officialy refered to using feminine pronouns and conjugation (maszyna is a feminine noun in Polish). However, since Mash in a concious being and wishes to be his own person, he uses masculine pronouns and conjugation, while talking about himself. He also calls himself Mash, instead of Machine.

Honorable mention of my FFXIV babies:

- J'lico Khat: she is goooone, but au ras are prettier, what can I say? She was my main miqo'te girl from Seekers of the Sun. Her name was 100% lore friendly, but also a huge troll, as it was a sorta phonetic way to spell "Jellicle Cat". You know, like from Cats the musical? I started playing in pandemics and it was the last movie I saw in the cinema at the time.

- Suiren Aijiro: us what J'lico has become. Did I mentioned au ras are prettier? Anyway, it was a bit of a spontanious decision, but I needed a nice, old-timey japanese name. To be lore friendly! And there is a character named Suiren in a comic I am making with my sister. So I stoled it. From myself. I feel kinda weird about it tbh. Primarly I came upon it in a manga Hibi Chou Chou (this is not a recomendation, this shoujo is bland). It means "water lily". As for Aijiro i took it from list of traditional japanese coulors. This one is white with a hint of indigo.

-Soren Wolpertinger: my beautiful bunny boy. Ok, so Soren means "strict, severe" and that's not a vibe, but I adore the sound of it. And Wolpertinger is a german cryptid - a creature with rabbit head, squirrel body, deer antlers and wings of a pheasant.

Now, I don't really know who to tag, as Vio already tagged everyone I know, who would be intetested. So feel double tagged! Spill the beans!

OC name meanings tag!

Stealing from @albatris :3

Rules: Search and post the meaning of your OCs’ names (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! Bonus if you can find something for their last name too

Emerald "Emmy" Acero:

"So, uh. Don't think I ever got the chance to give you my name. It's Emerald—" "—Like the gemstone?" "-Yeah like the gemstone. You can just call me Emmy though. Everyone else does."

Emmy's first name is pretty self-explanatory. His last name, Acero, is Spanish for Steel. His father, Orion Acero, picked it out when transitioning as a way to distance himself from his dead identity and any ties to Emmy's other father (whom has no idea he even is a father). Therefore, once Emmy was born, it became his last name as well. The only thing Emmy has even been told about his other biological parent was that he is a 'deadbeat musician' and that Orion didn't want Emmy to end up going down the same path.

OOC, Emerald was an import of my D&D rogue, Immeral (Immi), when I was invited to my first VtM game and had trouble coming up with a character thanks to Long Covid brainfog. What started as a modern clone of an existing character ended up evolving into his own being and is hardly recognizable from his D&D origins. The most notably being Emmy is an absolute heart of gold, dumb of ass. And Immi is a Lawful Evil dumpster fire. Which brings us to...

Immeral Ethanasath:

The character that would become one of my most replayed and AU'd to death (quite literally in most of his games) was a last minute randomly generated lawful evil rogue as a loyal subordinate for my buddy CerberusKnight's Conquest Paladin, Ajexs. Everything from his appearance to his subclass was randomly assigned in a scramble to have the character ready for a D&D one-shot. I had so much fun playing him I put him in a longform campaign to determine his origin story. Then COVID absolutely bodied me in mid 2020 and left me with less than stellar focus or creative function. I stopped playing spellcasters altogether because I couldn't keep up with the complexity and found it hard to create even new martial classes that didnt feel like cardboard cutouts. So I played Immi again. And again.

As for how he got his nickname, English is not CerberusKnight's first language and he had a lot of trouble pronouncing Immeral, often adding a 'd' to the end and accidentally calling him 'Immerald'. So we made it canon that Immeral loves nicknames because Common is also not his first language, so he told the paladin Ajexs that he could just call him 'Immi' as long as Ajexs let him call him 'A.J.' in return.

So of course, you can see where once I imported him to a 'human' setting, 'Immeral' naturally became 'Emerald'. I've only just recently gotten into a place of recovery where I can create new characters again, but I've been playing iterations of this disaster since 2019 and he holds a special place in my heart.

And as far as I know, the name means absolutely nothing and in canon, Immi picked it out himself when he hit a century old, aka elf adulthood.

Javier Andres Peña:

Emmy remembers the little message he found once he was awake again. Scrawled on a sticky note and left stuck to his cracked phone screen: Don’t walk home by yourself anymore, okay? —Javier

Javier, the Spanish derivative of Xavier, means 'new house'. Andres is a derivative of Andrew, meaning 'manly' or 'warrior' (hilarious, considering this man is the walking personification of toxic masculinity). Peña originates from 'de la Peña' or 'by the cliffside' or 'by the rocks'

I can't take the credit for this one. Javier started as a backstory character for Emerald (the one responsibly for Emmy's turning, specifically) created by that game's Storyteller. However, the original version of that game flopped horribly and I left it after being treated quite poorly by the storyteller and one of their players. Myself and two other folks from the game liked our character interactions so much we decided to split off and keep running the game, set in a new city. And of course, Emerald ended up reaching out to his renegade ex to escape one court and arrive safely half a country away.

Javier's role ended up being upgraded from a backstory character to a proper NPC by @zeeseal, but while sorting out Javier and Emerald's history, Javier ended up becoming our shared brainchild. Our beautiful disaster son. And of course, Emmy endearingly refers to him as 'Javi'.

I finally got a chance to play Javier as a true PC when I was invited to a game set in 1982 Melbourne Australia, as Javier's backstory included being turned in the 1980s and it seemed fun to explore what he was like before he became jaded with his new lot in unlife as an eternal 20something. I often poke @zeeseal for her input on how our terrible terrible son would react to certain things for the first time and the game has been a blast so far. Especially being American and playing an American character stuck with no home and no money in Australia with other Australian players/PCs and Storyteller.

As for tags, I'm sniping @bludoods, @whispering-jabberwocky @mayaminamoto, @sayonaramidnight, @raceofhearts and @ichithecupcake.

(And anyone else who wants to do it)

[cassandraclare]

The Letter Game (in full)

Many have asked to read last week’s letter game in a slightly simpler format. So here it is, for everyone’s enjoyment in plain text, under the cut. The action takes place between Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron. Read on . . .

1: INVITATION

To all and sundry—

The leaves are changing, and with them the season. It grows colder in London by the day, and even without the pestilence that recently ravaged us, even without demons breathing down our necks, cold with chill—now is the time for all good Shadowhunters to come to one another’s aid, and support one another in that most hallowed Nephilim tradition: song and dance.

So, a Musicale! The Townsends are pleased to invite the Enclave, in toto, to our West End home this Friday’s eve. Refreshments will of course be served, but the entertainment will be provided by you, our esteemed guests and friends. We would be so honored if you would help us welcome the coming of winter by bringing your most excellent capers and ballads, to keep us warm.

Grahame and Millie Townsend

2: Lucie » Cordelia

Cordelia, my sister, the very twin of my own heart,

Can you believe the Townsends’ invitation? How pretentious can one be, I ask you! It took all four Herondales an hour of discussion to conclude that “Friday’s eve” meant simply Friday evening rather than the eve before Friday (that is, Thursday). And is the demons or our necks that are meant to be cold with chill? “Cold with chill!” As a writer of words—no, even only as a reader of words—I am offended.

I digress, however. I write to ask whether you will be attending, as that will be significant to my own decision of whether to go. I asked James, and he was unenthused but “supposed” that “we must.” So I wish to let you know that if you don’t fancy attending, I believe James could be easily convinced. But, as unpleasant a night as it promises, I fear he may be correct that “we must.” You and he, after all, must do the social rounds as a betrothed pair, and I—well, I can hardly sit alone in my bedroom all night while all my friends witness Catherine Townsend’s cold-blooded murder of “O mio babbino caro.” 

So whatever your preference, I will be amenable. We can put on our frills and watch the most foolish of our set warble and prance, and at least we will have each other’s company and champagne. Or, if you’d prefer, tea and draughts in the Institute parlour. I am yours to command, my warrior-sister.

(I have realized only at this moment that perhaps you not only wish to attend but to perform yourself; if that is the case, I retract all previous mentions of warbling in favor of my unconditional enthusiastic support. I will even accompany you, if you wish, but I am not very good at the spinnet so please, something fairly slow would be best.)

Yours ever across the still waters of time and space,

L. Herondale

3: Ariadne » Anna

Dear Miss Lightwood,

I expect that you will have received the same invitation to the Townsends’ Musicale that the rest of the Enclave has. I write with the question of whether it’s your intention to attend, and to say that I hope that you will, and that I hope to see you there.

It’s not your sort of party, of course—dull, bourgeois, and stuffy, I imagine you’d say—but since as the daughter of the Inquisitor I am rarely able to appear at the more lively gatherings that you prefer, I do plan to attend myself, much as I would rather be elsewhere. (At one of those lively gatherings, perhaps?) Catherine will have my head if I am not there to keep her mother out of her hair, for one thing, and for another…well, I wish to see you.

I have it on fairly good authority that your brother and his roisterous band, or whatever they call themselves, are planning to be there. So I also write to implore you to come so that a cooler head will be present and any explosions, or implosions, or indeed bedlam of any kind, will be, if not prevented, at least more easily contained and cleaned up after.

For the event I am thinking of a dress I have, in a deep ruby color, with a rather striking neckline. I am no great judge of my own appearance, but I do know your taste and I daresay you will find it flatters me. For your part, I hope you will wear those pinstriped trousers you have. You have not worn them in an age, and I miss them, or rather, I miss how elegantly you wear them.

In short, I hope to see you there.

I know it is not your habit to keep letters from admirers, but rather to use them to kindle your fireplace. Perhaps that will be the destiny of this note as well, but I believe not. I come to you not as an admirer, after all, but as a friend, and one who wishes you all the best things in the world—

Yrs.,

Ariadne Bridgestock

4: Anna » Matthew

Mr. Fairchild—

Matthew, I have instructed the courier bringing you this note to evaluate your sobriety and, if it is found wanting, to slap you across the face twice. Straighten up and pay attention, you debauched fool. It’s still breakfast-time. And this is important.

Are you going to the Townsends’ musicale? 

Let me rephrase: if you know what’s good for you, you will be going to the Townsends’ musicale.

I hope to enjoy your company there, of course, as my friend and companion. But also, to be frank, I will need the support. My night was free and so I told them I would be there, but I wasn’t thinking, and now I’ve received a note from one A.B., letting me know in no uncertain terms that she will definitely be attending as well. It will be a large gathering, no doubt, and most of our time will be spent watching Thoby Baybrook chase after the juggling-balls he keeps dropping during his performance, rather than close-quarters socializing. But—and I trust in your confidence on this matter—I find I flutter with nerves. Imagine. I never flutter!

I hope I can count on you. I am not usually in the business of begging favors. However, this is an unusual situation. Matthew: she will be wearing the burgundy dress.

Anna

5: Ariadne » Matthew

To Matthew Fairchild—

All right, I’ve sent the letter. Against my better judgment, I should add. It seems more likely to drive her away than to attract her, to be honest, but you have her confidence in ways that I no longer do. If you think she is more likely to be there as a result, I will trust in your plan.

However.

I am fully aware that under most circumstances neither she nor you would be found as such a dreary party as an Enclave-wide musicale. (Nor would I, but as the daughter of the, et cetera et cetera, I hardly need to tell you.) So let this note serve as, not a threat, but a promise: if you even think about ditching the party for one of your Downworlder orgies, or whatever your usual scene, and you leave me and her to awkward politesse over stale canapes without showing up yourself…I will follow you to the ends of the Earth and your life will be forfeit. Forfeit, Fairchild. I daresay I can best you in a duel three times out of four, but also be assured I am very good with a dagger in the dark.

I look forward to enjoying this merry entry in the social season with you. I will see you there.

Yours sincerely,

Ariadne Bridgestock

6: Matthew » Cordelia

C,

No, that won’t do at all. There are already other C’s. Christopher, for instance. Also Caiaphas, a werewolf from whom I sometimes purchase wine. (He has an excellent nose, you see.)

Cordelia Carstairs, you need not worry about the Townsends’ party. First, none of Our Lot are planning to perform at all, but merely hang back and watch the festivities while imbibing and filling seats. You certainly shouldn’t worry that you’ll be asked to dance as you did at the Ruelle. This will not be the Ruelle. It will be far more insipid.

I’m sure J is focused entirely on your responsibilities as an engaged couple to make the rounds and be seen by the whey-faced provincials of the Enclave. He is correct, as always, the bastard, but he worries too much. Rest assured that we Thieves will be concocting a plan in which we are able to (1) have a good time at the most boring gathering of the season and (2) not miss cake. (I don’t know if you have had cake at the Townsends’. They are a tedious family, but their cook is some kind of confection-obsessed elf who performs great conjurings with spun sugar and buttercream.) (Yes, he really is an elf, I think. Or Catherine was having me on. His ears are fairly pointed, in any event.)

I do not particularly anticipate this musicale with great pleasure, but I do, of course, anticipate the opportunity to spend time in your presence with great relish. Truly, my parabatai could not have picked a more suitable bride with whom to be mutually bored to tears at parties for years to come. I suggest that for this one you bring a flask to tuck into your reticule. If you don’t, worry not; I will bring two. At least two.

I remain, as always, yours sincerely, etc etc,

Matthew Fairchild

7: James » Thieves

CONFIDENTIAL—DO NOT DISTRIBUTE—ON PAIN OF TORTURE—THIS MEANS YOU

Merriest of Thieves,

After extensive discussion, we’ve reached consensus (or as close as we will come) on our plan for Having Fun At the Townsends’ Musicale Even Though It Is a Musicale Hosted By the Townsends. (A variety of alternate names were proposed, but all have been vetoed by the plan’s organizer, that is, myself. Please do not continue to send proposed names, Matthew.)

Our esteemed colleague Christopher has, it seems, been working in his spare time on a new method of rapidly sending written messages without the use of couriers. Instead, messages are sent with a combination of runes (so bring your steles) and a propellant of Christopher’s own invention. I’m told that the technique is not yet flawless, but Mr Lightwood reports that it is ready to be shown and tested, and what better place than a party at which missing the main entertainment would be not disappointing, but rather a great relief.

Down a corridor from the Townsends’ main parlour is a small games room. I say games room, but in truth it is empty of games, and nobody ever uses it. It is windowless and a bit close, but mostly empty of furnishings and a suitable location for a scientific demonstration. Even better, the corridor itself departs the parlour with a dog-leg, and once one has passed around the corner, one is invisible to the notice of the other partygoers. (See attached floor plan of the first storey of the house; thanks to TL for his freehand drafting skills.)

This plan assumes that none of you are planning to perform in the musicale itself; if this is not the case, then MF wishes me to remind you both of your loyalties and to the overall philistine-like qualities of most of the guests.

Surely this will provide sufficient entertainment to get us all through the evening.

The party is only one days away, so if there are any questions about this plan, please hiss them to me sotto voce tomorrow night while Millie Townsend is performing her murder ballads.

Courage, half a league, half a league onward, and so on,

James H

PS: For those whose main draw to this party is Morgaint’s famous Victoria sponge, Christopher assures me that we should be done well in time for dessert. (I should add a warning that it should not be referred to as a Victoria sponge within earshot of Morgaint, as he will lecture you at length about the recipe’s preceding Victoria by centuries, the history of confection in pre-Roman Britain, and so on. He is very temperamental, even for a faerie.)

8: Thomas » Alastair

Dear Mr Carstairs—

We have not spoken in many weeks, presumably as a result of the unfortunate circumstances under which we last met. Nevertheless, I write this evening to extend my wishes for your family’s continued health and good fortune.

As I’m sure you know, this Friday marks an Enclave-wide social event at the home of the Mr and Mrs Townsend. I know that your sister will be in attendance, with her fiancé. The Lightwoods—Eugenia, Anna, Christopher, and myself—are also planning to be there. And, of course, we expect the family of our esteemed Consul, including both of her sons, to make an appearance.

Shall we expect to see you there? I ask merely because if so, I will not be attending. I understand that as your family will be there you have every right to attend, so I am happy to be the one who bows out of the evening.

Yours sincerely,

Mr T. Lightwood

9: Alastair » Thomas

Mr Lightwood

Tom

Look, you,

I am amazed and impressed by the effrontery of you writing to me to ask whether I will be attending an event only to them tell me that if I attend, you will not. No doubt you are feeling aggrieved about the last time we met. Well, so am I.  Jests and pranks from our schoolboy years are hardly a good enough reason for the kind of public humiliation I suffered, both from Matthew Fairchild’s rude outburst and your own. The very thought of attending a party with the likes of you sends me into a mixture of, on the one hand, paroxysms of helpless laughter, and on the other, a thumping headache of barely contained fury that I

[letter discarded, not sent]

Mr Lightwood,

Thank you for your kind letter.  I am, of course, aware of the upcoming affair at the home of the Townsends, through the usual means of receiving my own request to attend. It would seem to me obvious that I had no need of being informed about the party as though I would otherwise be ignorant of it. Unlike some of the London Shadowhunter families, the Townsends have only ever been courteous to the Carstairs family, and the implication that I wouldn’t have received exactly the same invitation that you did is exactly the kind of nonsense that

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I won’t be attending the Townsends’ musicale, as I am already committed to a preferable previous engagement cleaning out the pigeon cages in the Regent’s Park Zoo.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Receipt of your letter is hereby acknowledged.

I don’t know why you would write to me at all, but please do not write back to try to explain.

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I do want to apologize, I have tried to apologize, but every time I come near you a wall of your friends prevents me from doing so. You can hardly hold it against me that I have not apologized when you will not allow me to do so. Yes, I know what I did rises far above the level of a jest or a prank. But one must be allowed to make amends somehow, for otherwise what is there? Hopelessness? Not I suppose that you care much what I feel. Just because you are beloved of your friends, and ridiculously tolerably handsome, you think —

[Letter discarded, not sent]

10: Cordelia » James

J—

Do you need rescuing? Everyone is in the games room for Christopher’s demonstration, even Thomas, who has spent most of the evening hiding from my brother. You on the other hand have been waylaid in the corner with Mrs Whatshername. I tried to get close enough to intervene but was swept away myself by Mr Townsend, who wanted to tell me about his travels in the Levant when he was a younger man. Could not tell if he was confused about my family’s origins or he simply assumed anyone would be fascinated by his tales of camels and pyramids. Anyway, M suggests he could interrupt and scold you for ignoring your betrothed. Lucie says you are ignoring your betrothed, but don’t listen to her, I know you are far too polite to interrupt a member of the older set. (If you yourself remember, please remind me of her name when you come.) 

Come as soon as you can. Do not allow Mrs Whatshername to follow you.

Daisy

11: Christopher » Thieves

To: James, Lucie, Matthew, Thomas, Cordelia, Anna, Ariadne

From: Christopher

In an ideal world, I would have been able to send you this note through this very technique I am demonstrating tonight, but it does make a fairly loud bang, and I thought that would likely give the game away. Though I wish to not allow social proprieties to impede the progress of science, I have been reminded by several of you that discretion can be the better part of valor. Although I admit I can’t think of any personal examples where that would be the case.

In the games room I have piled a supply of protective spectacles, which I suggest you wear. There is no danger of damage to your eyes, but there may be some very bright flashes. In addition, the propellant which I will be using to send the message is an experimental mixture, similar to those I have tried in the past but not exactly the same. There is a very very small chance that inhalation of its fumes may cause some temporary effects to the mind, so I recommend that you hold a handkerchief over your nose and mouth during the demonstration. To be clear, I don’t think that any of these effects would have any negative impact on our ability to return to the party and attend the musical performances afterwards. At worst, it may make those performances seem more enjoyable than they would otherwise.

12: James » Townsends

Dear Mr and Mrs Townsend,

On behalf of myself, my family, my fiancée, and my fellows, I wished to extend sincerest apologies for departing your lovely gathering without saying proper goodbyes. Your musicale was, as all would have expected, a smashing success, with performances across the board demonstrating the falsehood of the common claim that the Nephilim are unable to produce works of art. Surely your daughter Catherine’s rendition of Puccini’s famous aria could stand alongside the finest professionals to be found in the Royal Albert Hall.

As you discovered along with the rest of the guests, Christopher Lightwood wished to use the opportunity of having us all present to demonstrate the state of his newest invention. I’m told that when it is completed, it will utterly revolutionize the way that Shadowhunters are able to communicate with one another, obviating the need for the runners, couriers, and use of the mundane Royal Mail to send messages to one another. Instead we will have a fully self-contained rune-based method. Surely anyone would agree that such a development would be well worth whatever growing pains the process of invention and experimentation might create.

As you also discovered, Mr Lightwood’s demonstration took an unexpected turn, with a good amount of his customized propellant being released into your games room and corridors. Luckily, it was a mild evening, and open windows as well as the vigorous fanning of the doors by Thomas Lightwood and Ariadne Bridgestock quickly dispersed the gasses.

That said, neither I nor my companions are able to account for an interval of roughly ninety minutes between the end of the demonstration and our departure from your house. To that end, it seems that we were sadly lacking in good manners by failing to thank you for your warm hospitality at the time. Again, please accept our deepest apologies, and our thanks for that hospitality, even if it has been delivered discourteously late. 

Warmest regards,

James Herondale

13: Matthew » James

Jamie,

Good Lord, what was in that stuff of Christopher’s? Do you know if there will be any lasting effects? I hesitate to ask Kit, he seems too dismayed.

Also, I am trying to find out to whom exactly I owe an apology for specific behaviors that might have happened after the demonstration. I seem to have lost more than an hour from my memory, as well as my waistcoat and a garnet ring of which I was quite fond. Any thoughts you have would be appreciated.

Matthew

14: Lucie » James

James,

I have been expecting to hear from Matthew, but as it has been most of a day and I haven’t yet, can you please let him know that I will make myself available to be apologized to during teatime, either tomorrow or the next day. Please also tell him that I will be sending along a bill for the costs of cleaning arrack out of the skirt of my dress. For such a prodigious consumer of spirits, you would think he would have learned not to slosh them around so much when he talks. I suppose Christopher’s propellant takes some of the blame, but honestly, Shadowhunters are trained in agility and dexterity and even under the influence of one of Christopher’s experiments he should be able to, at very least, not slosh so.

Lucie

15: Cordelia » Anna

Dear Anna,

The last hour or so of the party was something of a blur for all of us, I think. But I feel confident in assuring you that both you and Ariadne acted with all due propriety, and that at no point did you “make an ass of yourself,” as you put it, either out among all the guests or in the games room. 

Also, when next you speak to Ariadne, please compliment her on her lovely dress. It suited her quite well! I wondered if you were responsible for finding it for her? You do have such an excellent eye for what colors and cuts will flatter. 

Anyway, do not worry. I have made some private inquiries, and nobody took note of any unusual behavior on the part of either yourself or Miss Bridgestock. (In fact, Rosamund seemed to be under the impression that you were shamelessly flirting with her. I can confirm that you were not and that Rosamund simply has an odd way about her.)

Are we still on for tea Wednesday? Let me know if not and otherwise I will see you then.

Cordelia Carstairs

16:  Townsends » Everybody

For the attention of: 

James Herondale

Lucie Herondale

Matthew Fairchild

Thomas Lightwood

Anna Lightwood 

Christopher Lightwood

Alastair Carstairs

Cordelia Carstairs

On behalf of not just our own family, but the parental generation of the Enclave more generally, we wish to communicate our displeasure with your behavior at our soirée on Friday’s eve. You are all adults or near-enough, under Nephilim Law, and so you should be held to account as any adults would be. And you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Given the influence had by many of your families, and the small size of the London Enclave, we cannot bar you from all of our future events. If only we could. We will, however, be more careful in future about shutting off access to rooms in our house that are not intended for use by party guests.

Rather than taking the time to craft individual complaints, we hereby itemize the most obvious of our grievances, so that you may all have your behavior exposed to one another. Certainly none of you deserve to have your actions kept private.

Alastair: We were glad to see you eventually arrive, though there is a wide difference between “fashionably late” and the hour you appeared. (Just in time for the desserts, we note.) Also, the song you performed was highly inappropriate for the ladies present, especially the unmarried ones, such as our daughter, and also your own sister.

Lucie: While we have always supported your hobby of writing down entertaining tales, and we understand that the storyteller’s art does involve artistic creativity, your ongoing, strident, melodramatic narration of the events following the Christopher Lightwood Incident was not appreciated by us or, especially, Mrs Rosewain, who you referred to throughout as “Mrs Whatshername.” 

James: Your interruption of the cake serving to declare your undying devotion to your true love was a gallant gesture. It might, however, have gone over better had you not pledged your troth to a portrait in oils of our ancestral matriarch, Frideswide Townsend. Your taste is admirable, of course, and she was considered a great beauty. It is unfortunate for your affections that she passed away in the late sixteenth century.

Anna: We would thank you to come by and pick up your brother from our house at some point. He has been muttering to himself, fiddling with a pencil and paper, and threatening “another test, much improved.” Please retrieve him post-haste.

 Thomas: We don’t know how you made the acquaintance of that vampire who attempted to accompany all of the performers on his dulcimer, but he is not welcome back to our house, and if we see him again, neither are you.

Matthew: Whatever was in that bottle you were plying to my mother, we only found her this morning, napping on our roof. When we woke her she said it was of a greenish color and asked for more of it. We would be obliged if you could bring another bottle by, at your convenience.

Cordelia: Your demonstration of the supernatural sharpness of your sword was very impressive, even if it was not in the spirit of the kinds of performance we expected for a musicale. It is, however, not all that surprising that it was able to cut through our drapes, a dining-room chair, or the sponge cake. We spoke to your brother, and he suggested that we should feel free to send an invoice for replacement costs to the Herondale family, since soon enough you will be their trouble, and not his.

In short, you have all behaved abominably, and are, each and every one of you, embarrassments to your various hallowed family names. 

We hope you will join us the Thursday after next, for boating and luncheon in Hyde Park.

Mr and Mrs Graham Townsend

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes. 

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven. 

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless. 

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating. 

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated. 

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it  makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?” 

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances. 

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals. 

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.” 

He huffs a little. 

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead. 

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge. 

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates. 

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well. 

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human. 

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!" 

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes. 

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head. 

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.” 

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now. 

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open. 

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut. 

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.” 

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

[antiherocorner]

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons: 

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

[blackbat05]

You don’t like me when I’m angry (part 2)

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: Part 2 of <You don’t like me when I’m angry> Characters that I came up with are fictional and are not related to real people! I hope the flow is good as well! Did get some ideas from this webtoon, <Unholy Blood> that I was reading and I thought, hey why not right? Again, please enjoy! Hope it did not disappoint🙇🏽‍♀️

Genre: PG 13

Warnings: Maybe just watch out for a bit of detailed descriptions of injuries and the fighting. I tried to insert some themes like coping methods because honestly a superhero life isn’t all unicorns and rainbows - especially when most of them have morals.

‘When all this is over, I’m going to kill you!’ I scream over the bullets that were flying over our heads as we ducked behind the walls for cover. 

‘Why me? It was Katy’s idea!’ Shangqi retorts back, clearly feeling the injustice from the death stare. ‘Ok fine! Kill me all you want after this but we have a big furry problem on hand?’ He takes another shot at the group of henchmen with the rings he had inherited from his father. I slowly loose my vision, as the iris in my eyes turned orange. 

Shangqi sees you transforming into your alter ego and if you weren’t feeling murderous towards the mob boss, it was probably the most beautiful thing he saw. Skin ablaze, he wonders if that was the reason for your high tolerance in general. Meanwhile, more henchmen poured into the tiny hallway like cockroaches. Clearly he and Katy did not think about this in their plan - just how many of them were they?

‘I’ll cover you! Get to Gor before he kills the ambassdor’s family!’ He takes a deep breath, focusing all his energy on the rings to give the strongest blast he could. That was the signal. Breaking out into a sprint, I flew across the bodies that were stacked against each other before coming to a stop at the staircase where Katy was with the ambassador’s wife and child who were both inconsolable 

‘Gor’s got the older kid!’ Katy yelled over the siren from outside. Shit. The police were here. ‘Get them out and help Shangqi, I’ll meet you guys as soon as I can!’ Heck with property damage, a kid’s life was at stake. Charging up as much energy as I could, I broke through the wooden celling, arriving at the rooftop in record time to see Gor dragging the poor kid by the collar. 

‘Stop where you are RIGHT NOW!’ I threw a fireball at his shoulder as a warning. The werewolf stops, turning around menacingly to face me. ‘Let the kid go, they have nothing to do with this.’ 

Minus the kid’s sobbing, the atmosphere was deadly quiet. I didn’t dare to move from my spot least it triggered him. ‘Look, whatever you want, I’m pretty sure the ambassador has it,’ I tried a last ditch attempt reasoning with him, voice strangled in fear. ‘So please, I can stay with you until he gets here. Let the kid go.’ Why I was reasoning with a bloodthirsty werewolf, I had no idea myself.

‘You Avengers…’ Blood was dripping from his fangs. ‘Always so noble. But you see, do you really think that money was all I wanted?’ He pushes the kid over the ledge, cutting their right arm in the process. 

‘NO!’ I ran towards the edge, thinking of the worst. I think of Katy’s words back in the sanctum. More like the Avengers causing an international incident. Instead I see Shangqi carrying the confused kid who was covered in foam - from one of Katy’s trick arrows. The ‘chains’ are no longer holding me back. Gor laughs behind me. Now he’s really done it. 

‘I don’t know why you think this is funny,’ both my fists turned into fire. ‘But that’s ok. I’ll wipe that smirk of your face myself.’ 

The werewolf crazed look tells me that Gor is long gone together with the concept of reality. ‘You should have seen them... ha! The screaming men, women and children... their young blood doesn’t fail to disappoint...’ 

My fist came into contact with his jaw, breaking a few bones along the way. The large figure flies back and slams into the entrance of the staircase. Not giving him a chance to react, my arm replicates a sword on fire. ‘You... you killed children... innocent lives and FOR WHAT!’ I felt my body temperature going past the normal range, heart about to beat out of my chest. ‘I’m going to make you feel what they felt.’ 

Plunging the sword into his chest, the werewolf thrashed around violently, howling in pain. Screams echoing around me, it only made me dig the sword in deeper. ‘You won’t die, you’ll just experience what you did to them but ten times worse. I told you. You won’t like me when I’m angry G-’

‘(Y/N)!’ 

I wanted to stop but this odd thrill told me to continue. Shangqi places a hand on what used to be my forearm, bringing me back to my senses. ‘He killed children.’ My voice came out in nothing more of a whisper. ‘HE KILLED CHILDREN FOR SPORT!’ My rage about to hit the roof.

‘I know and I’ll probably roast him alive if I could too,’ he makes an attempt to soothe my anger. ‘But we’re done here. Please don’t do anything you’ll regret. Please.’ My vision slowly returns to normal as I look into his brown ones, removing the sword from the half conscious Gor. I signaled for Shangqi to give me a few more seconds as I bent down to Gor’s eye level. 

‘Remember my face. Remember my name. Because you won’t like me when I’m angry.’ 

I allowed myself to be led away by Shangqi as the cops started to storm the building. ‘Remind me to never get on your bad side. Like ever.’ He gives me a small smile.

We made our way down to meet Katy at the back alley. ‘I can never get angry at you Shangqi in case if you haven’t noticed yet.’ I put my hood up, walking into the open. ‘Katy on the other hand...’ 

‘THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH BOTH OF YOU?’ She jabs her finger into my arm. ‘I have to take care of one reckless idiot already I don’t need another one.’ As if forgetting that she was mad at me a few seconds earlier, she launches herself into me, giving me a bear hug. ‘Please don’t do that again,’ she mutters into my shoulder as I patted her head, looking at Shangqi quizzically. Just go along with it, he mouths.

On queue, the golden portal opens with Wong waiting on the other side. He takes a moment to register our disheveled appearances, including the bloodstains on my face.

‘Please just ask the spider kid to do it next time,’ Katy dumps her gear unceremoniously onto the sofa. ‘Nearly tore my ligament trying to fight Gor’s right hand man.’ Again, Wong doesn’t say anything, staring at me as I focused on my hands.

He’s going to tell me I shouldn’t have lost my cool. The gravity of the situation finally had set in. Great, I won’t be able to go on missions with Shangqi and Katy next time. Maybe I should tell- Shangqi’s hands quietly wraps around mine, somehow knowing the chaos that was happening in my brain.

‘Right,’ Wong coughs, breaking the silence. ‘Go home, get some rest, see you back here tomorrow morning.’ The two were about to retort back, but quickly clamped their mouths shut when they saw Wong’s expression. It wasn’t open for negotiation. He creates two separate portals, one for Katy and Shangqi each.

‘(Y/n), a word please.’ Shangqi grips my hand, as if asking if I wanted him to stay. ‘It’s ok, go back and get some rest. I won’t be long.’ He hesitates for a moment, before going back home. ‘Call me.’ And the portal closes.

‘I saw what happened today.’ My eyes widened in surprise. Crap, there was no escaping this one. I bowed my head in shame, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lose my cool. It was completely unprofessional of me but please don’t take me off missions with Katy and Shangqi.’

‘Take you off?’ Wong starts to chuckle to my bewilderment. ‘No (y/n), no one is taking you off anything. Maybe you should have kept your anger in check, but no one under your circumstances could have kept their cool. Just take a look at Strange.’ I unknowingly let out a snort.

‘What I do want to tell you is that if you have anything… even if you don’t wish to tell me, you have Shangqi and Katy. Good communication is essential for good teamwork.’

Wong was right. Whatever demons that I had inside of me, I projected them onto Shangqi. Given my abilities, it’s downright dangerous. Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t manage to defuse the situation as quickly as he did. I could have killed him and maybe everyone around the vicinity too.

Wong starts to create a portal back to home. ‘I shall not hold you back any longer (y/n), get some rest and good luck.’ I stepped into the portal, taking a deep breath to prepare myself for what I’m about to do next.

‘(Y/n)! Are you alright?’ Shangqi gets up from his bed while Katy snaps out of her trance. ‘What did Wong ask you? Don’t tell me he chewed you out for what you did back there?’ The questions came in a flurry. I look at their anxious faces, confident that my decision was the right choice.

‘No he didn’t, it’s all good. But maybe I just want to tell you guys something that I’ve been waiting to tell for a while.’

No doubt, it was going to be a long night. But rather than running away from today’s situation, I knew that I had to face it head on. And if it was of any comfort, one thing that I was sure about -

Is that I would never be alone.

A/N: Hoho~ part 2 is done! I have no idea what is that ending but it was the first thing that came to my mind so…😅 I think the whole premise of this two part story is essentially a reminder not to keep things to myself and know that there are loved ones who are supporting and cheering me on. And I don’t know… I think it’s something we could all use in this day and age! Again, thanks for reading both parts and please like and comment if you wish!🥰 More content and possibly different characters will be coming your way soon!

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Any opinions on Remus Lupin? I just can't seem to find anything about him in your archive.

Just so you know, I wasn’t really avoiding this ask, it’s more that whenever anyone asks me about a character like this I have to prepare to have a good chunk of time free. Rants take time, you know.

But yes, there are now a number of asks about Remus Lupin and so the people have spoken and I am prepared to answer.

Remus Lupin’s life is a dumpster fire of pain and suffering culminating in him dying in pain and suffering nearly dooming his son Teddy to lead a life of pain and suffering and I can’t believe Remus agreed to have a kid knowing he’d probably pass on lycanthropy. Well, a lot of his decisions towards the end of the series become eyebrow raisingly questionable, but we’ll get into that.

I guess something I should probably address, since I see a lot of fics gloss over it or just never realize it, is that being a werewolf is akin to having leprosy. Whether it’s good or bad I won’t get into, personally I think turning into a blood thirty/uncontrollable wolf that will potentially eat a village probably isn’t a good thing and wizards are right to be at least wary, but it’s important to look at how he’s treated by society.

Lupin is given an opportunity the vast majority in his position are not and is allowed to attend Hogwarts. Dumbledore took a huge risk with this, had anyone found out (had Snape narked), I imagine the board of directors would have immediately sacked him. As this was the age before wolf’s bane (in which Lupin could have taken a potion and simply been ill for a few nights rather than turn into a werewolf), Dumbledore was actively endangering the lives of all the other students by giving Lupin admission. In fact, one student nearly gets eaten/infected. So, Lupin gets very very very lucky that Dumbledore took that risk for him, that Snape was silenced but not killed, and that he only ever had that close call with Snape.

However, on graduation his luck ends. Due to his disease, Lupin is not able to be employed anywhere and when we catch up to him in canon gives strong signs of being homeless. He seems incredibly worn down by life, aged far beyond his yeas (the guy’s gray at thirty something), and is resigned but not shocked when he’s fired from Hogwarts after having nearly eaten three students because he forgot to take his medicine.

But let’s take a side tour to Lupin’s shitty friends. My god, I’ve gone over James and Sirius before, but they are the world’s shittiest friends to everyone but each other. Lupin screams something like the charity friend for these guys, they’re friends with Lupin because it makes them feel generous and cool to be friends with a werewolf. The Animagus thing to keep him company, while cool and requiring a lot of hard work, feels like a weird gimmick if you take ten steps back. They turn into animals so that they can run around with their werewolf friend at night and keep him company? That’s great and all, guys, but it doesn’t exactly make Lupin’s life better.

More damning, everything they seem to do with Lupin is to remind him he has this horrible incurable disease that will see him dead in a gutter. Lupin is Moony to his friends, because he’s a werewolf, har har. I can’t quite recall but I do think there were offhand canon mentions that James and Sirius made a lot of jibes/good natured jokes about Lupin being a werewolf. Lupin is the werewolf friend.

And then we get to Sirius and what he did to Lupin. Sirius, as the world’s worst joke that belongs in a Stephen King novel, actively goads Snape into stumbling on Lupin on the night of a full moon nearly getting him mauled and making Lupin a murderer. This, more than anything else, highlights to me that Sirius never really cared about Lupin. Lupin’s condition, Lupin himself, is reduced to a tool Sirius can use to get what he wants (humiliating and or murdering Severus Snape). Lupin realizes this and the next day I’m sure Sirius and James are going, “Come on, Lupin, it was funny! And it was Snape! It was Snape and funny!” Never mind that Lupin probably would have been executed or else sent to a penal colony had Snape died or been infected. Sirius nearly destroys Lupin’s life, makes him a murderer, for a giggle. 

I don’t think Lupin ever really gets over that.

We see in canon that, at least by Harry’s third year, he has no doubt in his mind that Sirius betrayed Lily and James. Fics often make a gradiose show of Lupin having to apologize for doubting Sirius, BUT WHY SHOULD HE?! Given what Sirius did to Lupin with Snape, given Sirius’ complete lack of empathy afterwards, if I was Lupin and this horrible thing had happened with Lily and James I might be surprised but in retrospect I’d go “Yeah, there were signs”. Of course, this makes things a little awkward when Sirius turned out to be innocent, but I hardly blame Lupin for believing it was Sirius.

Which gets me into Sirius/Remus, Wolfstar, or whatever terrible thing we’re calling it today. I get that fandom loves to warp Remus and Sirius into Harry’s cool uncles (guys, neither of them were this, I’ve been over Sirius but I’ll get to Remus) but it’d be the most toxic mess I’ve ever heard of. Given their history, given the pit of depression Remus is in in canon, given the sheer crazy of Sirius when he gets out of Azkaban: it’d be a cesspit of terribleness of Nabokovian levels. 

Right, yes, so why Remus isn’t Harry’s cool uncle: Remus has no interest in being Harry’s cool uncle. If you go back and actually read “Prisoner of Azkaban”, rather than watch the film, Lupin is very very very hands off with Harry. Harry asks if Remus knew Sirius Black/his parents and Lupin gives a very vague non-committal response, Harry goes to Lupin and asks to be taught the patronus and Lupin agrees to give one very brief lesson, Harry’s the one who seeks out extra attention and rather than Remus. In other words, had it been up to Remus he would have been in and out of Hogwarts without Harry any the wiser. After the reveal, similarly, Remus never really reaches out. He’s always a much more distant figure than Sirius in Harry’s life, never really contacts him the way Sirius does despite not being on the run, and shows up awkwardly to one Christmas at the burrow. He’s not family to Harry, Harry stretches the definition to make him fit, but he’s not really interested in the role.

Instead he marries Tonks in what I can only describe as a complete descent into despair. Yes, feel free to throw stones at me, but guys. He marries this barely legal girl he barely knows, during most of that time period he gets to know her he’s off on the world’s worst mission trying to convince werewolves that the ministry/Dumbledore are great (needless to say, they’re not impressed). He marries her, she gets pregnant within the year while Voldemort takes over the country, and then they both die leaving their likely werewolf son an orphan. As it is, Lupin even starts panicking, realizing that he’s damned his son to a miserable life and that he’s married this girl he barely knows (and Harry, wise and empathetic man of the year, calls Remus a coward for fearing as much. Ah Harry, never change.) Teddy does get lucky in that he doesn’t apparently become a werewolf, though he is still discriminated against because his father is a known one. Lucky you, Teddy, dodged a bullet.

So yeah, that’s Lupin’s miserable life. What a dumpster fire, you poor, miserable, man.

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine being Sirius’s daughter {Part Two}

Part one

-Remus took you to James and Lily’s funeral, knowing that you had no idea what was happening, but he had to go..... he had to know it was real.

-He also took you to Peter’s funeral.

-On full moon nights Dumbledore would come get you from the cabin and take you to Hogwarts. He had a spare bed set up for you in the office, and you would sleep there under the window, Fawkes perched at the foot of your bed standing guard. 

-When you were older some nights you would stay with Hagrid in the Hut. He loved having you around, and would teach you all about the garden, the grounds, and the magical creatures.

-You often asked Remus when your father was coming home. He didn’t tell you until you were three that Sirius wasn’t coming home for a very long time.

-The first year you lived with him, he would find himself going to bed heartbroken, exhausted from trying to be strong for your sake all day. His tears freely falling as his mind flashed back to a happier time.

-After that first year it happened far less frequently.

-Remus built you a spare room, and filled it full of the books Lily bought you from the flat, along with photographs of the past events.

-He also got your stuffed animals that represented the Marauders, and added to it a stuffed Lily. They sat on your bookshelf.

-One of the photos was of Harry and you, and when you first saw it you asked, “What happened to Harry?”

“Well, he went to live with Lily’s sister.”

“Can we go see him?”

“Unfortunately not, see Lily’s sister is a muggle, and Auntie Lily always said that her sister was not a fan of wizards. So I doubt she would find our presence welcoming.”

-One night you were sitting at the table when you asked, “Uncle Mooney, did Daddy kill Uncle Prong and Auntie Lily?”

“No my love, he didn’t. They were killed by a very bad wizard, who wanted to hurt Harry.”

“But why? Harry is just a harmless baby, right?”

“You are far smarter than your father.” Remus smiled, “You are right my love, but this wizard was scaried of Harry, and that why he attacked Uncle Prong, and Auntie Lily.” Remus sighed, before standing, “I am going to my room very quick, is your bag packed for Hogwarts?”

“Yes Mooney.” You replied with a smile, as he retreated towards the master room, and towards his bed. Crouching down he withdrew a old shoe box and pulled back the lid to reveal a stack of envelopes, each filled with parchment addressed to both you and him, your father’s handwriting filled the pages. However it was the envelope at the bottom of the stack that Remus needed to reread.

Mooney,

I have to apologize, for these last few months I have been withholding a secret from you, I thought you had turned on us. I was convinced that you had switched sides, and convinced our own friends, our brothers that you couldn’t be trusted. This assumption also lead me to make the worst decision of my life.

I convinced James and Lily to name Wormtail as their secret keeper, in fear that you had told Voldemort I was the Potter’s secret keeper, since I was their closest friend, and The Godfather of their child. James was insistent that he didn’t trust anyone more, but my desire to protect my family led me to lead them to their ultimate demise. That is why I went after Wormtail, and unfortunately he escaped. My guess is he is in some sewer somewhere as the rat that he is, cowarding away from the truth of his crimes.

I am sorry I ever doubted you, and I am sorry my decisions have now no doubt forced you into the role of fatherhood, a role I know that you have always longed for, but never felt you desired. I know Dumbledore has probably brought you my sweet [Y/N], and asked you to take her in. I know you love her as much as James, Lily, and I did, but that you are scared she will judge you once she learns of your condition. I promise you she won’t. I only ask one thing of you Remus..... don’t let her grow up thinking her father betrayed his friends, tell her the truth, tell her I love her.

My dearest brother, I love you, and I ask that you forgive me for what I have done. I will make this up to you, and when I get out, I will not only hug my daughter, but also you.

Padfoot

-Remus never told you about the letters

-The day after you returned from that trip you looked at Remus, “Uncle Mooney, can we plant lilies?”

“Of course Love.” He smiled, as you both went out to the car he had stored away in the garage, and drove to town. That afternoon you both planted Lilies in the entire flower box infront of the cabin windows, a smile on both your faces as you chattered.

-Hargid loved when you visited, you were obsessed with learning about the different creatures on the grounds.

-Remus loved having you in the cabin with him, he tried as hard as he could to raise you the way he imagined Sirius would want you to be raised.

-Remus hated your traumatic threes, he remembered Lily once joking with Sirius about how you will be a rebellious two year old once you hit the terrible twos, but he was not prepared for it to hit when you were three.

-However there was no doubt in his mind you were Sirius’s child, even at a young age you and your father shared a similar sense of humor.

-When you weren’t being a rambunctious toddler, Remus enjoyed taking you for strolls in the forest, he would watch as you touched every tree, and tried to smell all the flowers. He would carry a book with him as well filled with all the different plant varieties, and whenever you found a new one, you and him would sit on the forest floor and rummage through the book until you identified the plant.

-The night after the full moons were always the hardest on Remus, he was still wide awake from sleeping all day, but Dumbledore always brought you back after the great feasts. Remus would sit with you on the couch as you raved about all the professors he had loved while in school, and then at 9:30 he would put you to bed. As soon as you would drift off though he would sit there and watch you sleep, his mind racing with all the possibilities life had to offer you. It also though was flooded with the occasional dread, for you were the daughter of Sirius Black, a man who was now marked as a traitor and a murderer, he feared this would make you the victim of relentless teasing, and isolation among your peers. But he couldn’t let that consume his thoughts as he watched your chest rise and fall.

-Remus always made you pancakes for breakfast, a lesson he learned from Lily when he went to visit her one summer before their fifth year. Her handwriting still graced the page of his journal, which he had open on the counter every time he made them, even though he had already memorized the recipe.

-Snack time always consisted of chocolate.

-He began homeschooling you when you turned 4, your favorite lessons were writing, and defense against the dark arts.

-You once asked why your father never wrote you, Remus lied and said he had no idea, even though Sirius wrote you and him letters constantly. He stored them all in the box.

-When you would go to Hogwarts McGonagall would always bring you into her classroom after lessons were over, and tell you about her days as a quidditch player, and about how your Uncle James was the best chaser she had ever seen.

-You figured out Remus was a werewolf, you were five, and while he tucked you in you let it slip that you knew. He just looked at you in disbelief, but you just smiled, “I mean it makes sense, Uncle Mooney, I mean why else would they call you that?”

“How long have you known about my.... condition?” He finally asked, disbelief still in his voice as you shrugged, “Since about a month before my fourth birthday.”

-One day you offered to stay with Remus during a full moon, however he looked at you and smiled, “No my love, I will be fine, besides I know then that you are safe, and I promised your father I would keep you safe.”

-When you were in the castle, Snape avoided you.

-Dumbledore had already guaranteed that you would be attending Hogwarts, much to Remus’s joy.

-Normally he would read to you from the thousands of books he has filled your room with, however occasionally you would look at him and ask for a story about him and the rest of your family, and with a pained smile he would reminisce about the 10 years of friendship he had.

-When you were 5 he explained to you what Azkaban was, and how that’s where your father was.

-When you turned 6 he took you to Diagon Alley for the first time, you absolutely loved it.

-You were 7 when you asked Remus, “Uncle Mooney, how did Voldemort find Uncle Prongs, and Auntie Lily?”

“What do you mean darling?”

“Well they were in hiding, he shouldn’t have been able to find them, I mean they were apart of one of the most intelligent wizarding organizations in London, and I am sure the Order would have the necessary tools to hide them. So how did he find them?”

“Only one person knew where the Potters were hidden, they were the secret keeper...”

“You mean my father?” You cut him off, as his eyes met yours, “Are you trying to tell me Daddy turned them over to...”

- Your eyes were watering, and Remus watched as your mind processed the new information. After several moments of silence you bolted from the kitchen and slammed your bedroom door.

-After a few hours Remus softly knocked on your door, “Love, can I come in?”

Your room was silent, but the door slowly opened several seconds later, and the imagine broke Remus’s heart. Your eyes were rimmed red, and bloodshot, your face flushed, and the shine of your tears reflected the cabin lights. Your fingers did a quick pass against your cheeks as you whispered, “My father would never turn on the Potters.”

“I know Love.” He lied, because even though he got letters daily from Sirius, pleading to his best friend to believe he was innocent and to give him any news of his little girl, Remus wasn’t sure if he even believed Sirius.

-That night Remus told you the story about how he first met you, and how shocked he was when James called him after speaking to his mother, who had spent the whole day helping Sirius prepare to be a father. You smiled the whole story, as you cling to the black dog plushie Lily had bought you.

-After that you both never brought the subject up again, however you always knew your father was innocent.

-When you turned 8, you had basically mastered basic potions, and whenever you visited Hogwarts, insisted on showing Snape.... however he would tell Dumbledore to watch, and leave the dungeon.

-The day before you turned 9, it was a full moon, meaning you spent your ninth birthday in the castle. You desperately wished that Remus could have been there, but before you left he gave you a big hug, “I promise Love, when you get back I will have the grandest cake for you.”

“You say that every year Uncle Mooney.” You smiled before looking to Dumbledore, “You know if you two would just let me go to Olivandars you wouldn’t need to come collect me all the time.”

“Yes, and we would all get in trouble for you having a wand before you come of age, and for using magic outside of Hogwarts.” Dumbledore reminded you as you rolled your eyes at him, both smiling as the Black sas came out.

“Yes, but Dumbledore if I remember correctly you have connections within the ministry, prehaps...”

“I fear not even I would be able to save you from the punishment of those crimes, however don’t worry my dear, two more years, and you will have the wand of your dreams, and be able to practice magic at Hogwarts, just like everyone else.”

“You two are no fun.” You retorted as the two men just looked at each other and chuckled.

-That night you went to Hagrid’s hut, the lights shining on the freshly cut grass as you climbed the stairs alone. Your tiny fist pounding against the wood as you waited for the warm glow from inside to wash over you. When Hagrid opened the door however you saw he was wearing a party hat, “[Y/N]! Just the angel I wanted to see.”

“Hello Hagrid, seen any exciting creatures today?” You leaned forward and hugged the tall man, his lips curling up as he replied, “It just so happens I did, tell me [Y/N], have you ever heard of a Billywig?”

“Don’t joke like that Hagrid, Billywigs are only in Australia, and besides they are extinct.”

“I saw it in a book, see Professor Kettleburn was here showing me one of his new textbooks, and they have a whole section on those nasty little buggers.”

“Oh, I do love when he gets new textbooks.” You smiled as you noticed the small cake on the table, “Hagrid, why is there a cake on the table?”

“Well it isn’t every day that your favorite little girl turns nine.” He replied, “Baked it myself, figured you would rather a homemade chocolate cake instead of one made by the elves in the kitchen.”

-It was a small, round, pink cake, with your name written in green frosting (it looked very similar to the one he made Harry on his birthday), a huge smile on your face as you looked over to him, “I love it.”

-That night you slept on Hagrid’s couch, which had happened many times before. Fang laid on the floor in the front of the couch, your hand gently touching his fur with your finger tips, as Hagrid laid a quilted blanket over you.

-That day you sat in Dumbledore’s office, your nose in a book from the Library, your legs curled up under you as you flipped through the pages. Fawkes sitting with his eyes on you as you sat in silence, which was interrupted by a chuckle from Dumbledore.

“[Y/N], have I ever told you about the time your father played muggle music on his Walkman at top volume, and danced around the great hall when he returned from Christmas break?”

“Never.” You replied, closing the book, and looking towards the elder, for he had never really told you anything about when your father attended school, or was in the order.

“I believe the song was called Cry For Me Argentina, somehow James and him had planned out an entire choreographed dance, in which James was throwing rose petals behind your father, who was dramatically twirling down the center aisle of the Great Hall. Poor Remus and Peter trailing behind them, trying their hardest to make it look like they knew what was even going on.” Dumbledore reminisced, as you smiled.

-That’s how the rest of the night went, and at some point McGonnagall joined in, adding her own stories. “Your father is the reason I stopped using the word serious, ever time I did in class, or in the common room he would reply, They’re not serious, I am.”

-When you returned that evening to the cabin, Remus had decorated the entire cabin, streamers hung from the ceiling, as the floor was littered with balloons. The table was set, and platters were stacked high with all your favorite desserts. A bowl filled with chocolate sat on the coffee table, and in the middle of the counter space sat a chocolate cake, covered in your favorite fruit, and homemade frosting.

-He let you stay up extra late that night, both of you sat on the couch with your noses in books. Once midnight came around, you looked to Remus, and excused yourself. After hugging him and shutting your door he let out a sigh and opened the drawer to the side table, his hand pulling out a perfectly new envelope, addressed to you, and opened. His fingers slipping into the tear and extracting a piece of parchment,

My Sweet [Y/N],

Today you are nine, oh how I wish I could see you. I am sure you are just a beautiful as I was at your age, and probably just as troublesome to your Uncle Remus. Someday I hope to see you again, or hear from you, so that I can tell you just how much my heart longs for you. I can never make up for the years we have lost, I have tried to think of a way a thousand times but every solution is never enough, nothing I can ever say or do will ever make up for the fact that I am the reason they are dead, and that the real traitor is still free, probably hiding in some dumpster somewhere, as the guilt of his actions naw away at his soul, or for the fact that my best friend is now the one tucking you in at night, and reading you stories, and feeding you chocolate after 10pm, just like he did to me countless nights. You are in good, safe hands my darling [Y/N], but alas they are not the hands you belong in. I would kill for just one chance to see you again on your birthday, I can still picture in my head how you looked on your first birthday, when your Aunt Lily decorated her entire flat, and slaved away for hours on your cake. Poor Prongs had to come hid out at our place just to avoid stressing her more. I doubt you remember that, but sometimes I like to think you do still remember them, and how much they loved you. You were the star we all needed in our blanketed midnight sky, and I can only hope you are that same joyous light for Uncle Mooney, who sometimes forget there is joy in life, and that our alements don’t define us. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you, or the little family we had.

Happy Birthday my Love,

Dad

-Remus’s eyes watered as he read the letter over and over before walking into his room and adding it to the box, his mind wandering far from the current moment in time, and back to that small flat 8 years ago, when they were all smiling with happiness on your first birthday.

-That night he chose to stay in his own room, and look through his own memory keepsakes from his time at Hogwarts, tears freely running down his face as silent sobs scratched at his throat.

-When you awoke the next morning, he had already dried his tears, and wore a smile for you, as though nothing had happened.

-When you turned 11, Remus took you to Diagon Alley, and bought you everything he remembered needing his first year of Hogwarts.

-You were so excited to go to Ollivander’s, your grin was ear to ear as he stated, “No doubt you are a Black child, you have the same wildness behind your eyes as your father and uncle, let us hope however you are not as twisted as...”

“That is quite enough.” Remus interrupted, “We would like to see your finest wands please?”

-That was the first time you had ever experienced someone directly saying something negative to you because of who your father was, your heart torn as you took the first wand into your hands, “Unicorn hair core, black walnut wood, 10.5 inches.”

“Well give it a flick dear.” Remus encouraged, however at the flick of your wrist, all the wands rocketed off of the shelves.

“I’m sorry Mr. Ollivander, but I think we might need to try another.” You smiled shyly, as you placed the wand down immediately.

“I would say so, let me see if we have something more appropriate.” He forced a smile as he retreated towards the back, “Prehaps this will be more family appropriate, your grandmother had a similar one, Dragon heartstring core, black walnut, 8 inches.”

-When you gave it a flick, a small beam shot out of it, and landed on the papers, causing a small fire to overtake the top of the stack. Withdrawing his wand Remus quickly extinguished the flame, however Ollivander’s attention was on something else, and quickly he turned on his heels and made his way towards the wands scattered on the floor, mumbling to himselfbefore loudly exclaiming, “This is the one, I can feel it my dear, almost exactly as another wand I sold back in the day, it is just a 1/4 inch shorter, measuring at 10 inches, it’s made of cypress wood, and the core is unicorn hair.”

-Remus’s eyebrow raised as Ollivander named off the characteristics of his own wand, but before he could say anything you had the wand in hand, and without even a flick, it immediately started to shine, a slight breeze overtook the room as Ollivander smiled, “The wand chooses the witch Miss Black, and it seems you have far more in common with Mr. Lupin than you thought.”

-When you returned home you looked at Remus, “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.” You smiled

“No problem Love, however I am exhausted, so how’s about we turn in early for the night.”

“Of course Uncle Mooney.” You replied as you turned into your own room, and shut the door, leaving him to stand in the living room and wonder about the future.

-He addressed his issues to Dumbledore the next time he saw him, “You don’t think the others will bully her for her father’s crimes, do you?”

“I highly doubt any of her peers will even know the story of her father’s crimes, she will be fine Remus.”

“And what shall we do about Sirius, I mean I wouldn’t put it past him to send her a letter while she is at school. I don’t want her head filled with his lies.” Remus inquired, as he looked out the window to see you tending to the lillies.

“Sirius is no threat to her at Hogwarts, she will be safe Remus, I promise.” He reassured him as he let out a shaky breath, “I would hope so.”

“Besides she has Black blood in her, and was raised by 1 of the best tricksters in Hogwarts history, and was brought up with James Potter, she can no doubt handle herself if trouble arises.”

-You were insistent on taking the train your first year, even though Dumbledore offered to take you straight to Hogwarts, “I want to be treated as a normal student Dumbledore.”

“And so you shall.” He smiled

-Remus was secretly falling apart on the inside when he was walking you to platform 9&10, his mind filled with thoughts of all the trouble you could get into, the things you could be bullied for, but also at the sense of loss he was going to feel, the longest he had ever been away from you in the past nine years was 24 hours, and now he wasn’t going to see you again until Christmas. However all of that melted away when he saw your smile, and for a second it was like he was seeing the smile of an 11 year old Sirius Black.

-You got to 9 3/4 beautifully, Remus right behind you as you pushed your cart towards the enormous train, the platform was filled with adults and students, all trying to sort through the chaos.

-Before boarding you wrapped Remus in the tightest hug you could muster, “I’ll write you every day, and I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

“I know Love.” He whispered, as you looked up at him, a excited smile on your face, “I love you.”

“I love you too Uncle Mooney.”

-Those were the last words you said to him before boarding the train, his feet planted firmly on the platform until the train pulled away, his eyes watching as the train got smaller the further it went towards the horizon, until it was completely out of sight. A shaker breath released from his lungs, unaware he was even holding it in, as the reality of the situation set in, for the first time in a long time..... he was completely alone.

-Upon arriving home, the cabin was pitch black, and silent as the grave. His hands reached out towards the light switch, which flooded the room with a harsh yellow glow. His feet carried him straight into his room, to where his bookshelf stood. His fingers running across the spines of each book until he found the one dated for 1979, withdrawing it he looked at the cover of the photo album and retreated to your room. Once inside, he took a deep breath and was overwhelmed with the scent of you, a ping of sadness overtaking him as he sank onto your mattress, and opened the book to see the animated faces of his friends. Each page holding a memory, both before and after you entered their lives, as he relived the moments in his head. He stayed up all night looking at all the albums he had created those past 11 years.

-When you boarded the train, you were looking for anywhere there was available seating, and you knocked on the glass of the first one you saw, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all.” One of the two identical ginger boys exclaimed, his face was slightly rounder than the other boys, and his smile was large as you sat down across from him, “Are you a first year too?” the other asked.

“Yeah, I’m [Y/N], and you are?”

“I’m Fred, He’s George.” The rounder faced one replied

“I’m George, he’s Fred.” The other replied right after

-You spent the whole train ride joking with the twins, and found that you all had a similar sense of humor. However soon the conversation shifted, “So which house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” George asked

“Probably Hufflepuff, honestly I have a sweet tooth, and the closer to the kitchen the better.” You joked as the boys chuckled.

“Well as Weasley’s there is only one house we’lol get sorted into.” Fred replied cocky, “Our whole family has been Gryffindors.”

“Ah so you are lions.” You joked as Fred and George let out fake roars, just as the train stopped at a platform. With smiles you three rose and made your way towards the exit, and once on the platform you heard a familiar voice, “All first years come with me, everyone else make your way to the carriages.”

-“Hagrid!” You exclaimed, separating from the boys as you ran towards the half giant, who extended his arms open and caught you.

“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, “mighty fine seeing you here, how was the ride?”

“Splendid, just like I imagined, tell me, did the elves make Yorkshire pudding tonight?”

“Course they did, it wouldn’t be the first day feast without it.” He smiled, “However your friends seem to be looking a wee bit confused.”

-When you turned around Fred and George were just looking at you, and with a smile you joked, “What, have my lions never seen a half giant before?”

“No, we are just wondering how you know each other?” Fred questioned

“Now that boys is a secret I shall never tell.” You smiled, before taking both their hands, “Now come on, we don’t want to miss the boats.”

-It was in the boat that you met Lee Jordan, and soon realized he would be joining your friend group.

-Once outside the great hall you turned towards the boys, “Now we make a promise here, no matter what house we get, we will still all be friends, no matter what.”

“Unless one of us gets Slytherin, no one in Slytherin ever turns out being a good guy.” George replied

“Even if one of us gets Slytherin.” You replied, to which the three sighed, but ultimately agreed.

-When McGonagall started calling names you smiled at the members of staff, and watched as each of your friends got sorted into Gryffindor. Finally you heard McGonagall’s voice say your name, “[Y/N] Black.”

-A hush feel over the great hall as you approached the hat, McGonagall smiled at you as you slowly took your place upon the stool, and felt the fabric of the talking hat touch your hair, before it’s voice filled your head, “Ahhhhhhh another member of the Black Family, this should be easy to sort out, I mean you’re a descendant from a long line of Slytherins. I think your father was the only oddball of the family, what you might call a black sheep.”

“Please, don’t put me in Slytherin.” You thought, your eyes closed as you thought it louder

“Oh why not, someone with your talent could excel in Slytherin, besides who doesn’t love a cunning woman with a bit of poisoned blood in her veins. I mean your father was a traitor, whose to say you won’t be the same.”

“My father was not a traitor, he was a loyal friend, and a fighter. He would never turn his back on his family, because you might say I am a descendent of Slytherin but everyone in my family were...” 

“Gryffindor!” The hat screamed, as the table cheered loudly, your eyes opening as your face cracked a smile. Your feet excitingly carried you to the place beside George, as you looked toward Dumbledore, who wore a proud smile on his face as well.

-Your first week of classes was a breeze, Fred and George were baffled by the fact that you knew all of them, and were glad that you were their friend, since you were clearly the brightest witch of your year.

-You went to Dumbledore’s office once while you were free and looked at the hat sitting atop the shelf, “Are you sure you put me in the proper house?” You asked

“Of course I am, you showed true bravery standing up for your father, and loyalty. Both are vital traits of a true gryffindor.”

-You and the twins were inseparable, and within the first two weeks of school were already plotting on who to prank, and how.

-You sent a letter to Remus everyday as promised, and everyday he would send you a reply. However a month into school, you one day received two letters. The first was from Remus, but the second bore no return address.

-You waited until you were in your dorm room to open it, safely seated on your bed, you closed the curtains and tore the envelope open, withdrawing the parchment, you read the scribbles on the page,

Dear [Y/N] Euphemia Black,

Hello, it is odd to think that these are the first words you will ever be reading from me, even though I have written you a hundred times before. However knowing how stubborn your Uncle Mooney is, I doubt he has even told you that I have been writing you since they locked me away.

Where to begin, words can’t even describe how I have been feeling since they ripped me away from you, nor can anything make up for the lost years of communication we have had. Not a single day goes by where I don’t envision your beautiful [Y/E/C] eyes, or how your face looked, or remember how you used to dart around the house like a child overdosing on sugar. Truly your impact on my life has been the only thing keeping me sane in this insane asylum prison all these years. I am sorry I can’t have a similar impact on your life.

You are 11 now, meaning g you have just started the best adventure of your life, it was at Hogwarts that I met your Uncle Prongs, and Mooney, and unfortunately met Uncle Wormtail as well. I wish some days I never met that traitor, or that I wasn’t so self absorbed in my own beliefs. I was wrong to doubt your Uncle Mooney, when the real traitor was right under my nose the whole time, and I gave him the loaded gun to destroy our entire friend group, and your childhood. No child should ever have to endure what you and Harry did. How I wish I knew where he was, since I doubt that they would give Mooney both of you, and I have no idea where Auntie Lily’s family is. I just know where you are, and that you were safe in Uncle Mooney’s cabin all these years.

I would love to hear from you, written on the back is how to reach me. I have so many years to catch up on, and so little time to do so.

I love you my darling, never forget that.

Dad

-By the time you reached the end of the letter you were crying, and every time you reread his words more tears started to flow down your face. Soon your vision was blurred and the words manifested into blobs on the page, but by that point you had already memorized most of it.

-You stayed in bed the rest of the day, and once night had fallen over the castle you made your way to the common room where a very concerned set of ginger twins sat on the stair to the first year girls dormitories with Lee., who was leaning opposite them in the doorway.

When he saw you Lee looked at you with concern, causing the boys to turn and look as well. Wasting no time they jumped up and wrapped you in a tight embrace. When they pulled away Lee wrapped you in a embrace, and then they led you to one of the secluded couches. They kept asking you what was wrong and finally you broke, and told them that you just found out your pet hamster had passed away. Not wanting them to know your family secret.

-The next day you responded to your father’s letter, and started what would soon become a weekly interaction with your estranged father.

-You never told Remus or any of the professors you were in contact with your father.

-your father was so happy when he received your first letter, and cried as he read the seven pages of parchment that you sent him.

-You helped the tricksters with their assignments, and the pranks.

-McGonagall couldn’t help chuckling to Dumbledore one day, and stated, “Isn’t it funny how she has found herself her own group of tricksters?”

“It is, especially since she has become just like Remus.” Dumbledore compared to her as she groaned, “Does that make the Weasleys James and Sirius?”

“I fear it does.” Dumbledore replied

-You were at the top of the class when Christmas break came.

-Before leaving you and the boys decided to do secret Santa when you all returned from christmas break. Each of you wrote your names on a piece of parchment and put it in a hat, drawing one by one. You were the last to draw, and you had gotten Fred.

-When she went home that Christmas Remus was waiting for her anxiously on the platform, however before you were reunited with your uncle, Fred and George followed their brothers towards their family, each of your hands in one of theirs as they led you towards the other Weasleys to introduce you.

-When they heard your last name they immediately knew who your father was, and why he was in Azkaban, but later that night after Arthur expressed his concerns Molly defended you, “We can’t judge her because of her father, and besides, did you see how smitten the boys were to introduce us to their best friend.

-When you saw Remus, you broke away from the twins and ran towards him, your arms snaking around his neck as he picked you up.

-You immediately introduced him to the twins. He looked at both of them and smiled, “So you are the boys my niece has told me so much about?”

-When you got home, you immediately started tell Remus about all the non secretive stuff you left out of your letters. Once you got inside though you looked at him, “Uncle Mooney, have you ever heard of the Marauders Map?”

“Why?”

“Fred and George knicked it from Flich during one of their detentions, and on the front of the parchment it states master Mooney, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prong. I only know four men whom go by those names.”

-He told you everything about the map, and you immediately wrote to the twins to tell them how to open the map. When you were done, and sent the letter off to them, you turned slightly and looked at Remus, “Uncle Mooney?”

“Yes Love?”

“Why have you been hiding my father’s letters from me?”

-He was silent, his face paling, as his hand slightly started to shake. He felt hot suddenly and lost the ability to talk, as you continued, “I want to see them please Uncle Mooney.”

-All he whispered was, “How?”

“He told me, please Remus.” His real name sounded so foreign slipping off your tongue, “I deserve to know.”

-He got the box, and sat at the dining room table, as you slid into the chair across from him. Your fingers casually slid along the lock as you opened the lid and revealed 9 years worth of unread letters. Remus’s eyes focused on the table, never lifting as you read each letter in silence, and finally you reached the first letter, where he had pleaded to his friend his innocence.

“You had all of these for years.” You whispered, “And yet you still doubt him?”

“[Y/N]...” his voice was barely audible, but the heartbreak in his tone and body language was loud, your watering eyes meeting as he took a shaky breath, “I love you.”

“Yet you knew my father was reaching out, that he is rotting away in a cell alone, and you..” your voice cracked, “you let him rot in there alone.”

-You left the table immediately, and went into your room, where you stayed for two days, until you came out to Remus asleep on the couch, the house a mess. You immediately started cleaning as you walked around, along with covered Remus with a blanket. When he awoke, you were seated on the floor facing him, his eyes bloodshot as you whispered, “I love you too.”

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found - 16

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: fluff, me feeling sad because THIS IS THE EEEEND

Word Count: 3.9k

a/n: there will be an epilogue coming out on Friday, (FROM CHRISTINA’S POV!!) however other than that, this is the end of Lost & Found everyone! I just wanted to say THANK YOU to all of you that have been so involved with this story. I feel like I’ve gotten to see so much of you guys interacting with this story and loving it just as much as I do. I’ve loved your theories and seeing your reactions (lol, some of them were hilarious). This story is...I don’t even know how to explain it. I put a little bit of myself into every story I write, but this is one of those that really made me do some digging. It still is. It was hard to write most of the time. But it was so, so worth it. 

I would LOVE (as always) to hear from you about your thoughts. Who your fav characters were, favorite parts, thoughts on the ending, thoughts on side ships (lol Christina and Tae!) and of course, I’m more than happy to answer any questions! Thank you again for reading, and enjoy!

Chapter 16. I’m Proud of You

series masterlist

The sound of rain battering on the roof of the shop creates a false sense of security. The ambience created by the repeated sound against the tin out in the alleyway lulls me into a dreamlike state.

           Jimin appears to be in a similar mindset, leaning against the worktable and watching with glazed eyes as I knead the dough to a rhythm I pick out in the rainfall.

           “What’s the next question?”

           Jimin inhales deeply, eyes drifting to the appear hanging loosely in his hands. “Um…how do you plan on coping with a life in the spotlight?”

           Jimin and I have been at the sweet-bread shop for the past couple of hours, trying to make up for all the days I missed from work. Yuri allowed for us to come in today much later than normal due to Jimin’s schedule in the morning.

           Last night I’d glanced through the lengthy list of questions with Jimin and Chung-hei. I’d nearly cried from relief when I found out that she would also be joining in on the interview. Apparently Bighit thought that selling the idea of two close friends at the soulmates for two of their idols might prove to be comforting for the fans.

           “I plan on baking a lot of bread,” I respond with a smirk, spreading the dough in a pan and heading toward the large oven on the far side of the room. On the way I prop the back door open just a crack, allowing a bit of air in now that the back will be heating up with baking bread. The sound of rain grows louder, the strong smell flooding the kitchen.

           Jimin chuckles, nodding along. “And texting your friend Jaemin?”

           “Obviously.” Once everything looks good to go, I set a timer and check the time. It’s pushing eight in the evening, and the rain has yet to let up at all. “Ok, that’ll bake for thirty minutes.” I go to join Jimin beside the worktable, beginning to wipe it down.

           “Next…something that’s surprised you so far?”

           The thread now extends nearly twenty feet, which the soulmate specialist we met with last night predicted would happen. “At this rate,” he’d said, “Everything should be back to normal within five days or so.”

           Normal.

           What does that even mean anymore?

           “You.” I keep my eyes on the table, trying to scoop up as much flour as I can. “You’ve been the biggest surprise so far.”

           Jimin lowers the paper, watching my movements as I dispose of the flour before spraying some disinfectant and continuing to clean.

           “Explain that, please.” Jimin effortlessly assumes the role of interviewer. I chew on my cheek, grinning when Jimin takes up a spot on the opposite side of the table and motions for the cloth.

           I slide it toward him, watching as he begins to clean the other side. “Well… I think we’re becoming friends. Good friends.” My absentminded smile grows as I recall the events of last night.

           By the time we’d finished the meeting with Bang PD, we’d barely had enough time to breathe before launching ourselves into another flurry of meetings. All designed to prepare me for the possible pitfalls of this sudden interview.

           When we’d finally made it back to the house, Elle was cranky at not seeing either of us all day and I was bordering on a mental breakdown.

           In the quiet of the living room, Jimin had sat on the edge of my couch-turned-bed and tucked me in.

           “Take your pick,” he’d whispered, unfolding the blanket. “Burrito or lasagna.”

           My startled laugh sounded loud in the quiet house. “What’s the difference?”

           With some sort of reverenced adoration, I listened to my soulmate explain the lasagna method (piling several layers of blankets on top of the victim/person), versus the burrito method (one blanket, snugly tucked in).

           Laid there on the couch, gazing up at Jimin, I understood why I hadn’t fought against the interview.

           I cared. It was a devastatingly simple and perhaps a little lackluster revelation, but I cared about him.

           Jimin looks up at me now from the opposite end of the worktable with a crooked smile. “Are you friend-zoning me?”

           My eyes fall to that smile, wondering what it might feel like to reach out and trace the little divots it creates in his cheeks.

           “…no.”

           After his marvelous explanation of the difference in the lasagna and burrito methods, I’d chosen burrito.

           Jimin had leapt up off the couch and draped the blanket over my body. I laughed when it covered my face, and Jimin chuckled nervously when he pulled it down.

           “Sorry,” he mumbled. “This is a hazardous line of work at times.”

           Beginning at my toes and working his way up, Jimin had meticulously tucked me in. I’d stifled a laugh when he brushed up against my sides, a knowing smile gracing his lips before he quietly instructed, “Arms up.”

           Rather than finishing the job quickly, Jimin took his time. Gently straightening the hem of the blanket and taking my hands in his before guiding them to rest atop the blanket.

           He took a moment to study me, the only source of light coming from the kitchen. A little light had been left on above the stove, but I didn’t mind; not when it illuminated the way he was looking at me.

           Resting on the edge of the couch, Jimin looked like an ordinary man.

           His black t-shirt looked a little wrinkled, and his eyes were tired. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at the other couch.

           “I’m proud of you.”

           Despite the utter silence in the room, I wondered if I heard him correctly. “Hm?”

           His lips turned down in a frown of concentration as Jimin swam in his thoughts. “I think you deserve to hear it.”

           I stared at him like he had suddenly transformed into a werewolf. “I…I don’t think…”

           At my tone of doubt, Jimin returned his focus on me, surprised to see that I didn’t believe him.

           Maybe you aren’t proud of yourself,” he whispered quietly, as though sharing a secret. “But for now, I hope that this is enough.” He reached out to wipe a stray tear from my cheek, quickly followed by another. “You’ve been so brave, and I’m so proud of you.”

           For unknown minutes after, all was silent. Jimin stayed, fingers caressing my cheeks as the tears continued to flow. I had clung to his wrist, unable to verbally convey what was caught in my throat as he continued to look at me with so much pride.

           I don’t deserve you.

           But I will do my best to love you in the way you deserve.

✂

           The rain lets up not long after the bread comes out of the oven, although Jimin is nowhere near the end of the questions. He continues asking them as he and Jolie head out to the car waiting for them, Sunmi greeting them with a cheery wave.

           He watches with a forgotten smile as his soulmate interacts with her friend. Jolie laughs at something Sunmi says, her eyes alight with some sort bittersweet emotion. Jimin is beginning to understand what that look means.

           Last night, he’d seen the way she was doubting herself. If he was honest, he’d been doubting himself, as well. This interview was going to be high pressure. He didn’t want to admit it, but this interview would largely decide how people viewed his soulmate.

           Yet, Jolie didn’t complain. She didn’t say a single thing expressing her doubt or worry. Instead, he watched on with amazement and admiration as she powered through the meetings. Steeling herself against the worst.

           There had been a moment, as Jimin tucked his soulmate in after explaining the different methods (he’d come up with the lasagna method on the spot, but she didn’t need to know that), that he realized why he’d been feeling so odd all day. Like something about Jolie was so familiar, allowing him to fall into an easy rhythm with someone who should have been one of the last he would trust so readily.

           She reminded him of, well…himself.

           Jolie was cut from the same cloth that he was. That younger Jimin of the trainee days, trying so hard to be brave but still quick to make rash decisions that he later came to regret with his whole being. Quick to doubt, quick to love.

           Somehow, that’s who Jimin saw as he sat perched on the edge of the couch. And after a moment of reflection, he felt like he knew what he had needed to hear back in those early days. What Jolie needed to hear as she embarked on this new adventure.

           “I’m proud of you.”

           It was true. It still is, less than a day later as Jolie sits beside Jimin in the backseat and chatters freely with Sunmi. Explaining some of the silly answers she came up with to the possible interview questions, making a bet on some random phrase that Chung-hei will probably say at some point.

           That pride bubbles up until it has Jimin reaching across the seat to grab Jolie’s hand in his, lovingly running his thumb over her knuckles. He grins at the way she stumbles mid-sentence, eyes flashing to him.

           He sees the way she looks doubtful for a moment, and he knows that she’s internally rejecting the notion that he cares as deeply for her as his actions say he does. He just squeezes her hand a little tighter and silently promises to prove it to her.

           Again and again, if need be.

           “You’ll do great,” Sunmi is reassuring as she pulls into a familiar neighborhood. They’ve arrived back to the apartment at last. “I’ll be watching.”

           “That sounds a little creepy,” Jolie teases, glancing over at Jimin as she opens up the door and slides out. “Thanks, Sunmi.”

           Sunmi nods, smiling in the rear view. “I’ll see you guys in the morning!”

           Once they’ve said their goodbyes, Jimin and Jolie head up to the apartment. They can already hear some of the people inside, and Jolie can’t hide her smile as she hears Christina’s voice.

           “Kim Seokjin, I already told you that I’m in charge of the zucchini, now leave it alone.”  

           Jolie wiggles her eyebrows at Jimin. “Don’t tell me she’s moved on to Jin.”

           “Oh, no. Her and Tae and are pining over each other every chance they get,” he quietly confirms. The way Jolie snorts has him smiling at her fondly. “She’s probably just trying to make him jealous by hanging out with Jin.”

           The two of them head inside, stepping into a warzone. People are scattered everywhere, jumping to and fro in an effort to prepare a suitable dinner for all those present. It’s a rare sight to see in the house, it’s not often that they cook at home. Due to their busy schedules, they either cook for themselves or eat out.

           “What’s going on?” Jolie asks with a hint of amusement as she glances at Taehyung. He’s the only stationary being in the entire house, leaning up against the doorway to the kitchen and staring at Christina with furrowed brows. Almost like he’s confused, but he doesn’t quite understand why.

           Jimin comes up behind him, clapping him on the shoulder. “How’s it going?”

           Taehyung shrugs, a little lost in thought. “Oh, fine. Fine.”

           Winking at Jolie, Jimin attempts to sidle into the kitchen. “Anybody need help in here?” There’s a round of applause from Jin, who begs Jimin to come and help him with something. Taking up a station beside his oldest hyung, Jimin gets to work to prepare family dinner.

✂

           “So,” I drawl, posting up on the opposite end of the doorframe from Taehyung. “Whatcha thinking about?”

           Taehyung’s frown deepens, his eyes flitting over to mine before sloping back to where Christina chops vegetables at the counter. “Dinner.”

           “Mhmm.”

           Again, his eyes flash over to me, an accusing look on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

           I shrug, enjoying the role reversal. To think, it wasn’t that long ago before I was quaking before Taehyung at work. “You just look a little distracted, that’s all.”

           Taehyung chews on his bottom lip, and I don’t miss the way his eyes flit back and forth between Christina, her severed thread, and his own thread which leads out the door and beyond. Connecting him to his soulmate, wherever they may be.

           “I feel a little…strange.” He admits quietly enough for no one else to hear.

           “In a good way, or…?”

           He shrugs, watching as Christina picks her way across the kitchen to where Seokjin clears a space for her to slip the cut vegetables into a steaming pot. “Sometimes good, sometimes bad.”

           “And do you…plan to do anything about these strange feelings?”

           Christina steps out of the room, and the second she disappears from sight it’s like Taehyung woke up from a long dream. He blinks, looking around for a second before looking back at me. “I think it’s more of a question of if I should do something about it. If that’s even plausible.” Again, his eyes drift to his thread, and I mull over this odd situation.

           In the end, it only leads to heartbreak. It just depends on who it will be that gets their heart broken.

           Before I can respond, Yoongi is calling everyone to come to dinner. It takes a few minutes for us to all gather around, and I can’t help but notice the way that Taehyung doesn’t even think twice before settling down next to Christina. The moment he notices what he’s done, however, that same tormented expression from earlier reappears. I offer him a bolstering smile from down the table, which he hastily returns.

           We all dig into the food, everyone expressing appreciation for different dishes and sharing all around. Jimin blows on his bulgogi before extending it to me with a grin, which I quickly take.

           Toward the end of the meal, Hoseok holds up a glass and a hush falls over the table. “I’d like to propose a toast!”

           Jungkook whispers something to Jin, who tries and fails to hide his laughter. A glare from Hobi has the two shutting up in an instant.

           “To more family dinners like this,” he says with a smile. “And to all our new additions.” He pauses, thinking for a moment longer. “Some of you arrived in more…unconventional ways than others. But I will say this: you make my friends happy, and that’s all I want for them. Please continue to make them smile as often as you can.”

           I can toast to that.

✂

           These lights are making me sweat, but then again, that could also be from the way the interviewer is staring me down with a hawk-like glare.

           There’s no studio audience, no this is something to be broadcasted in about a month from now. For now, I sit beside Chung-hei and try not to fidget in my seat.

           At first, there were plenty of generic questions. A few directed toward Chung-hei or I that were easy enough to tackle; questions like: “What’s your line of work?” or “How does it feel to be in an interview?”

           Now, though, we’re reaching the end and the interviewer seems to sense this. They begin to lean into the more difficult questions. Anything to keep ratings going, I suppose.

           “Jolie, I have one final question for you,” they grab their card before crossing their legs and smiling at me. There’s no kindness in that smile, but I try to pretend like there is. “If you could go back in time to before you met Jimin, what would you tell yourself?”

           I blink. Everyone looks to me expectantly, and I find that I’m suddenly sweating much more than before.

           This wasn’t in the list of questions.

           Refraining from chewing on my lip, I glance at Chung-hei. My friend smiles encouragingly at me, and I allow myself to go back to a previous time I saw that same smile.

           I’m standing beside Chung-hei, grinning wide enough that my cheeks hurt as the intro music begins to play.

           “They’re about to come out!” Hei screams despite standing right by me. I laugh at her excitement, even though I know I look just as crazed as she does.

           The entire arena floods with music, the bass making my very bones vibrate. All around me people lift up their army bombs and cheer. Smoke floods the stage, creating a mysterious aura before the lights drop and everything is plunged into darkness.

           And then, light. Two huge spotlights illuminate seven figures who seemingly appeared from thin air in the middle of the stage. Less than a second later, the already deafening arena picks up in sound.

           In a burst of energy, the seven boys begin their routine. I find that I am absolutely mesmerized as my eyes fall on one person in particular.  

           Park Jimin glides across the stage as though he owns it; which, with some quick negotiating and a bit of cash, he probably could. His flowy white shirt makes me understand why he’s so often referred to as an angel. However, it’s when he smiles that I find myself adopting the nickname to use for future reference.

           For a moment, I am blissfully ignorant to all that awaits me. To all that awaits us, as I still have yet to notice the way my thread shifts whenever Jimin moves across the stage.

           What would I tell myself in that moment?

           The answer comes surprisingly quickly. “If I could go back…I think I’d just tell her that I’m proud of her.” I smile softly at the interviewer, who listens to my every word as though waiting for some sort of slip up to cling to. “For all that she’s gone through, I’m proud. And that there’s light up ahead.”

           Right on cue, the producer signals to wrap it up from behind the camera. I spy Jimin’s smile, making me smile in return.

           The interview is wrapped up within the next couple of minutes, and before I know it we’re being herded backstage before slipping into our different cars to head to the Bighit building.

           Jimin and I sit in the back seat as Sunmi drives, listening to her rant about how well we did. I just shrug, explaining that it’s too soon to congratulate us. The real challenge will come when the broadcast airs.

           “You did well,” Jimin quietly affirms. He takes my hand in his like he did yesterday, and it’s a feeling that I can certainly tell I’ll be more than happy with for the rest of my life. “How are you feeling?”

           I shrug. “Alright, I think. Just nervous for what comes next.”

           Once we make it to the Bighit building, Jimin pulls me aside before entering the doors. Once he’s ascertained that there isn’t anyone eavesdropping, he pulls me in close to his embrace.

           I nearly melt in his arms, instantly relaxing as I take in the citrusy scent of his shampoo. It’s the same that I’ve been using over the past couple of days.

           “Let me tell you what comes next,” he whispers before pulling back to see my face. “First off, you quit trying to friend-zone me.”

           I laugh, trying to shove him away but failing as he keeps a tight grip around me. “I’m not! You’re just being overdramatic!”

           He feigns offense, gasping loudly. “I can’t believe you’d attack me like this. It hurts, jagiya. It really does.”

           “Yah, just get on with it.”

           “Ok, ok. You’re so impatient.” His easy smile proves that he doesn’t mean me any harm. “ Secondly, I have a question for you.”

           “And what’s that?”

           Releasing his grip around my waist just long enough to push some of his hair back, he raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to date me?”

           I blink, unsure of whether to laugh or question his health. “I- yeah. Of course I do.”

           “Ah, so you want to date me.” Jimin smirks, and suddenly I realize that I may have just gotten myself into a lot of trouble. “Alright, I guess I’ll allow it. But I do have some conditions for you if you want to be my girlfriend.”

           I scoff. “Woah, technically you’re the one that asked-”

           “And you answered that yes, you want to date me. Will you hear out my conditions?” I nod impatiently. “Good. First, you must allow me to tuck you in burrito style whenever you sleep over.” I chuckle, nodding along vigorously while trying to memorize the way he’s looking at me right now. “Second, you quit texting that Jaemin guy. I’m the jealous type, and he seems sketchy.”

           Now I can’t hold back my shoulder-shaking laughter. “You realize how contradictory that is, right?”

           Completely ignoring my call on his judgement, Jimin continues. “You let me send you chocolates without complaining about getting fat. I get joint custody of Elle. You teach me how to bake bread, your mother’s recipe.”

           His soft tone makes me smile softly. “And?”

           He holds up his left hand, the red thread shining in the afternoon sun. “When this thing starts working properly again, you don’t run away from me. Let me- let me be your best friend.”

           There’s a lump in my throat now as Jimin’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “And?” I whisper.

           “And when the rest of the world is pressing in on you, let me remind you how much you are loved.”

           His grip tightens just a cinch as I let out a shaky breath before mumbling out, “How do you plan to do that?”

           Jimin’s eyes slowly drop to my lips, head tilting to the side as he smiles softly. “I have something of an idea.”

           The sound of the gate opening to let another car in – surely one of the other boys – alerts me to our ending privacy. Before Jimin can change his mind, I throw my arms around his neck and pull him in close.

           The first clash of our lips is a bit sloppy, but soon Jimin is leaning in impossibly closer to better capture my lips. It’s unknown and hurried, and full of promise for the future. The only thing on my mind is the feeling of Jimin’s hands digging into my waist before finding themselves at the small of my back, making me stumble forward a step. He catches me, lips parting in a crooked grin a single second before a black SUV pulls up.

           Jimin’s cheeks are dusted light pink in the afternoon sun, but soon I’m going cross eyed as he leans in and delivers Eskimo kisses. “I knew it was a good idea.”

           “Oi! Don’t tell me you two were just making out in broad daylight,” Jin groans as he exits the SUV followed by a disgusted looking Namjoon.

           “I- no, we were…uh, I…” Jimin sputters, looking to me for help. I laugh, saying nothing as I head for the doors.

           “Namjoon, you can’t even act like you’re disgusted!” Jimin protests, hurrying after me to avoid a collision with the door like he has in previous experiences.  “Don’t pretend like I haven’t seen you and Chung-hei making out like teenagers on the couch-”

           All three boys trail after me as I stride down the hallway toward the elevator. They don’t stop their bickering as we enter the elevator and Jin pushes the fifth floor button, red in the face as he scolds the other two for their behavior.

           Leaning up against the wall, I close my eyes and smile, listening to the accusations flying around the small elevator.

           It’s good to be home.

Previous - Epilogue

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[prose-for-hire]

Life bites

Pairing: Oz x fem!werewolf!reader

Request: Oz? YES PLEASE! how about agirl who's also a werewolf, but sdhe hates her condition and is always shying away from others, that is until our sweet guy finds out and does all he can to help help and... feelings involved ;)

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Discussion and feelings of shame/guilt. Being a werewolf is described as being traumatic for the reader.

You hated the moon. Despised it. Cursed and swore blindly at it whenever you had the chance, or the ability to speak as it rose.

You were a werewolf. Not by choice. Although, you would be hard pressed to find someone who had become a werewolf by choice. You had been bitten one evening, you had been out later than your curfew. 

You blamed yourself for being out so late. For looking biteable and easy to take on without a fight. You were devastated when you realised. 

When you kept waking up in strange places, your mind spinning with part memories. Snapshots of horrific mutilation and blood. God, there was so much blood. Thick and rusted into your matted fur. Now, in your hair once you returned to your human form.

You were sick of taking showers with the water running red. Having to see it again made you have to relive the carnal massacre your demon side would partake in. Your whole body had wracked with sobs, masked by the shower.

Your family hadn’t understood. Had said your personality had almost changed overnight. That you were so angry and they didn’t understand why. So emotional and insular. You couldn’t dare tell them.

They couldn’t know, couldn’t be subjected to the danger. To the misery that had taken up residence in your chest. So you left home, trying to protect them. Drew into yourself. Trying to hide the shame that you felt. The shame that came along with your identity.

You had isolated yourself, moved to a new place. Sunnydale, it was called. There was a pull in your gut, you had been driving aimlessly and you just knew in your mind, body and soul that you needed to go there. To this town. For whatever reason.

You didn’t usually believe in fate, but you hadn’t believed in werewolves until two months ago so who were you to disbelieve?

You had lost your friends, unable to make new ones. You were more reserved around people, worried that your condition would get worse and become permanent. That you could hurt people. Infect them just by meeting their eyes as they spoke.

You folded in on yourself further, trying to be really small. Not taking up much space in public. You wanted to hide under the radar. You wanted, more than anything, not to be a threat to these innocent people.

You barely left your house, barricading the doors and windows before every full moon. You didn’t know how else to protect the population from yourself. It wasn’t completely effective. Sometimes you woke up in fields again, having broken out of the barricades.

You always woke up to your house having been trashed beyond repair. You had used to clear and replace everything but after the fourth month you had just left it. You still had a bed and a working sofa, so you decided you would be okay. You preferred hurting inanimate objects than living beings. The library fines were worth it, you decided.

You found yourself praying, calling out to every known deity. Trying to bargain with them. Assure that people wouldn’t have to suffer at your hand. You did this every day now.

You had started to frequent a library. It had an occult section. There was quite a large amount on werewolves. You were trying to figure out a way to stop it. A way to understand your condition. To manage it the best that you could.

You usually took all of your books and headed home pretty quickly. And this was what you were doing as you cut across the parking lot to get to your car.

What you didn’t see, as you had been watching your feet as you hurried across the tarmac was a guy. A cute guy at that.

You bumped into him and dropped one of the books you had been clutching to your chest. He had seen you around but you never stuck around long enough for him to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, here” He picked it up and offered the book, before scanning his eyes across the front of the copy he was handing back. He half smiled at the irony. Werewolves.

“Oh, th-thank you” You stuttered, not accustomed to doing more than speaking to shop clerks when you had no other way out of it.

“Any good?” He asked, gesturing at the book.

“Haven’t read it” You mumbled, before becoming more and more evidently embarrassed. Oz stared, trying to figure something out. He opened his mouth as if to say something but you just nodded your thanks again and awkwardly shuffled to your car.

He watched you speed out of the parking lot, thinking a moment. Before shaking his head and carrying on to the record store that was next to the library. He couldn’t stop thinking about you though. Your demeanour. Your nervousness. He sensed something in you. And now, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you, despite not even knowing you.

He asked around, describing you but nobody recognised you. He frowned but he couldn’t forget your startled face. He had identified something in you, a similarity. Or something that spoke to him anyway.

All he knew was that he was supposed to talk to you. But he had more pressing issues himself as the full moon loomed. He had to prepare for his own transformation.

However you did bump into each other again, only this time as werewolves. Both of you had somehow managed to escape from your confines. As if it wasn’t only the moon calling that night. It was the promise of the other. Of that spark you had felt but pushed down when you met him the first time.

The night was fraught, you only had flashes of snarling and horror. Of blood and rage. Of a guiltless carnage that waited for you to awaken in your human form.

The one thing that he could cling to, the only glint of hope in an otherwise dreaded destiny was those eyes. When he woke up, he remembered them. They were the same eyes you had glanced in briefly when you bumped into each other in the parking lot.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you until he found you again. He had waited. Knowing you would probably be bringing your books back. And he was right, he saw you walking towards the library.

You had returned with only one of the several books you had left with and it was half torn up. Deep claw marks meaning that the library was never a free service to you. He knew, his hunch was right. Those eyes, he couldn’t pull his own away.

It had been troubling him, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. His heart ached for you, he saw how lost you looked. The panic in your eye when anybody came close to you.

“Hey, y/n, right?” He asked but you were trying to rush past him.

“I can’t stay”

“I thought maybe we could hang, there’s a great record store down by-” Oz wanted to speak to you, try to offer a hand. Some support. He had needed it when it was new to him.

“Really, that’s kind, but you don’t understand-” You stopped

“I understand more than you think” He tried to hint, looking at the ground before looking back into your eyes.

“You couldn’t possibly-”

“Full moon. The deer in the cemetery” He barely spoke above a whisper, he never really said much about his own feelings. His own guilt. Especially not to strangers. But he saw the way the shame bit so deep. The way that the only thought that replayed on your mind was horror. And pain.

The animalistic part of you scared you. You were lost. But the man in front of you, though appearing cool and disaffected on the surface – you could almost see into his soul. Through those eyes that shone, you saw him. You really saw him, the same wolf you had met the night prior. The meal you had shared before you ran through the streets. Leaving destruction in your wake.

You nodded. Unable to verbally confirm what you both knew. His words made you choke on a sob. Your hands moving to your face, your shoulders wracked with emotion. Tears welling and then streaming.

A hand slid along your back, soothing you despite him knowing you didn’t feel you deserved it. He saw the good in you. The way you kept going despite the weight around your neck. The heavy burden of guilt upon your back. You carried it around with you everywhere. It weighed you down. The only colour in your otherwise black and white world was red.

“Trust me” he murmured. But you could see that he was being sensitive to you, to the way he knew so intimately that you must be feeling. You nodded, a decision you would thank yourself for down the line.

He brought you back to his place. His tone was soothing and level despite what you were both discussing. You found yourself missing his touch from that slight touch of comfort you had received earlier. It was the most contact you had in such a long time.

When you were in his home, he spoke to you, explaining ways to cope. About letting people support you which was something he had always struggled with. He even mentioned things that he had researched and found out himself. About shutting yourself away, which you explained you already did at the expense of your entire house.

He saw you, truly saw you. In a way nobody ever had before. You were more human to him than anyone he had met and you sensed this from him. Together, to the onlooker you could just be a guy and a girl talking. Hanging out without a care in the world.

He shook his head at your admittance, concerned for you. For how wherever you looked in your home you must see the destructive part of your nature. Viewing yourself as a monster before a woman. He could almost feel your emotions as his own. You shakily shared experiences, ones you hadn’t dared to say out loud before. Spoke about other things, less serious.

You weren’t used to company, let alone speaking to people anymore. So that day you had been extremely emotional. Your voice dwindled into a hoarse whisper. But he knew about being quiet. Not having the words. He had been this way. Now he had grown to not mind what people thought.

You met him almost every week after this. Finally beginning to let someone in. You slowly got to know each other. In this time, his feelings for you blossomed. He even began to give you guitar lessons. Writing thoughts and lyrics together. He was giving you a way to express how you felt. You tried your best at it, it was very hard to verbalise how you felt. Which Oz got completely. As time went on, you mostly found yourself slowly looking forwards to this time spent with him.

One evening Oz called you out of the blue. He asked to meet you somewhere and you found yourself feeling something. That he wanted to spend more time with you. You couldn’t place it. But it was as if the pressure that you were so accustomed to was slowly dissipating.

You arrived and Oz showed you into the deserted room. It was a cage. Oz explained that him and his friend Xander had made it. Or, Xander had made it and Oz had claimed that he distanced himself creatively. In case you didn’t like it. It was sturdy and it matched his. So that you could be safe as well as everyone else in Sunnydale.

Your reaction was emotional. Of course you were grateful. This meant something to you. Oz was doing everything he could to tighten his grip on you. To pull you up from drowning in the guilt he was all too familiar with. You ran at him and hugged him. Tears shining in your eyes. You both almost overbalanced at the enthusiasm. He hadn’t expected this. You weren’t even sure where it had come from.

The first glimpse of something akin to hope. That you could carry on. That you could make sure no harm was inflicted by your hand. Or, sizeable canines.

You realised what you had done and pulled away. His complexion was tinged pink but he had embraced you with open arms. Neither of you said anything, but you both laughed a little under your breath. Smiling at the other.

You had never been this visibly happy. Your smile made your face light up. He wanted to see you smile much more often. He was about to tell you this, but Xander skidded in with an enthusiastic description of all the features the cage included. Oz went quiet and you both nodded along as Xander’s voice got more animated.

After a few months, you both agreed to wait out the full moon together. You were spending most of your free time together, discussing your thoughts. Emotions. Just sitting together comfortably. So, it made sense for this to be the next step in your relationship. Your cages were moved into the same abandoned warehouse space together. Sunnydale was full of spooky derelict buildings and people knew not to just wander into the one you had chosen.

You were monitored by his friends who were really very accepting of you. It was nice, being introduced to people that didn’t hate you for what you had gone through. People who would empathise and attempt to understand.

You and Oz had both started to grow closer and closer together. He was an incredibly considerate soul. He would do anything for you and he knew that you had a great affection for him.

He was going to ask you on a date, that wasn’t sitting side by side in a cage for the evening and passing the time that way. But for now, he was happy to spend this time with you.

Another month, another full moon. You and he were together again, looking at each other through the thick bars. You could communicate just through looking at each other now. Nonverbal communication made your silences always comfortable ones.

There was a level of intimacy in how relaxed you could both be together, even in this situation. Even waiting for the night to fall, a time where both of you felt so vulnerable. So concerned that something would go wrong with the cage. That you couldn’t contain it.

You reached for him through the bars wordlessly and he didn’t hesitate to move towards you. His hand stretching between the space. Your hands twisting like vines. Solidifying the nature of your connection. Of your unsaid feelings.

You could get through tonight, as you always did, together.

As your human forms disappeared, the wolves emerged. Pacing your cages. Longing to be together, whining that they couldn’t reach each other. Trying to escape, not just for the hunt. But for the touch of the other. As always happened.

When morning came and you could be unlocked, you went to get brunch together. It was the best part of the month, especially when you were safely caged away and nobody got hurt. You had an entire month stretching before you. You both became incredibly hungry in this period and the morning just appeared to glow with hope.

He had helped you want to live. Changed the bleak landscape of your existence into a sunny life you could actually imagine enjoying. Only with him.

You slid into your booth, the one by the window that you always did. He had helped you so much, but you hadn’t realised how much you had helped him. Today though, on this morning with the early morning sunlight filtering in, he told you. It came from the heart just like those lyrics he wrote so well. The ones he had played for you in those long afternoons you spent alone.

Your eyes shone and your voice was barely audible as you gushed about how much he meant to you. About your mutual adoration. Your words didn’t feel enough. You wanted to express all of these feelings you had for him in the same way he had so easily reeled off from his own heart. He had been nervous to reveal them, but you never would have guessed.

He smiled at the way you had opened up so much since you first met. He slid around the booth the sit beside you. His eyes moved between your eyes and your lips. He was nervous but your adoration for him shone through. You shared a knowing smile.

He leaned in and his lips brushed tenderly against yours. He never wanted to press you for more, just feel his wholehearted emotion. This one action said everything. He wanted you to be his. His girlfriend. You kissed back as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your skull. Began to tangle softly into your hair. The kiss was so tender and sweet, you near melted into him. Your hand found his resting on the table as your lips moved against the other in such reverence. Your hand clasping his. You eventually reluctantly moved from this kiss. It made you feel like you were flying. As if you were walking on air. It meant hope. It meant him.

“Werewolves in love” He smiled, before landing a brief and incredibly soft kiss to your lips. He then slid back to his side of the booth as the waitress arrived with you food.

Neither of you could help smiling. The corners of his lips tugging into a smile that completely accentuated his features. He glowed. You were grinning across the table from him, unable to believe just how much your life could have changed for the better.

You were never going to be alone anymore. You had each other. You knew each other intimately.

[admiringlove]

VII: reckless; his mistake.

— atsumu isn’t one to take rash decisions but he couldn’t help himself. now, your heart is shattered.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 1.8k.

+warnings: angst. 

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @tanaka-ryu​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: taglist officially closed <3

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

You woke up in the morning, with Madam Pomfrey just by your bedside as she mixed a few herbs together in a mortar and pestle. You coughed, your throat dry as a tumbleweed, as your eyes widened.

Atsumu.

You tried getting up, the pain in your shoulder skyrocketing as you coughed even more. Madam Pomfrey was scolding you, but your ears were ringing—you could only hear a white noise as you coughed and the school nurse forcefully poured a nasty tasting medicine into your mouth, making you swallow it as she held your jaw softly. 

"There. You're good now, darling. Just lay down for a while, alright?" she said, rubbing circles on your back. Your mind raced as all you could do was nod at the woman, who moved onto the bed next to yours. 

That's Rin! 

You look at your figure in a frantic state—bandages wrapped from your left wrist to your shoulder, random purple bruises littered across your leg and arms with gashes in your other leg and torso. You grimaced at your sight, but then looked up and around in denouement. 

The curtains covered the bed to your right; you were trying your best to figure out who all was in the Infirmary with you. Till now, you could see Suna, Sakusa, Osamu, and Aran—

That's Atsumu, you gasped in revelation. Your eyes darting to the tiny space between the curtain and the wall just to get a glimpse of the boy. Just then a coarse voice stopped you, "Don't bother, [L/N]. You won't want to see that right now."

"Rin?" you whipped your head around and instantly regretting it because of the sudden rush of pain. Seeing the brown-haired boy get up as he winced made you feel almost guilty—it's because of you they were so hurt, wasn't it?

"This happens every month, don't worry," he coughed out as Madam Pomfrey scolded him about talking such 'posh'. He laughed it off, saying that if you and Atsumu weren't there, then his wounds would be worse. You opened your mouth to speak, but that was when you heard a grunt coming in from the other side of the curtain.

"Okay, hush now, both of you," Madam Pomfrey says, ruffling Suna's hair lightly as she grabbed a syringe and a bottle from the table and walked towards the other side of the curtain—simply so you two wouldn't have to see how bad Atsumu's wounds really were. 

And a couple of seconds later, when Miya Atsumu's screams filled the Infirmary, was when you realized—you shouldn't have followed him into the Shrieking Shack. 

"You're okay, now. That's all that matters," cheered Alisa as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner a few days later. You walked alongside them, hiding your bandages inside your robe. You hated how Atsumu was still in the Infirmary as the rest of you roamed about freely. It irked you to an extent where your nights felt almost sleepless. 

You would be thinking about him—contemplating whether you should have gone after him. Whether it would be any different if you had just let him go; if you had just waited for the next day to talk to him again. You never knew when you were falling asleep, just staring into the darkness till the depths of the night. 

You visited him in the Infirmary every day till he got discharged. You couldn't help but feel responsible for his wounds because honestly, who wouldn't? And when a week later, he was discharged, he didn't seem to even look you in the eye anymore. 

It drove you crazy—not feeling his burning stare at the back of your head every time you walked to Potions, him not even bothering to yell at you in Quidditch practice, him not teasing you about the Treacle Tarts during dinner, and you just missing his vague southern dialect barking at you for no reason whatsoever. You craved his slightly flirty comments that made your ears heat up in Transfiguration and Alchemy, how he'd say the dirtiest of things without failing to keep a straight face. You even wanted him to annoy you again or hit you with his Bludger so you could go to Hogsmeade with him. 

"You look like the saddest Bowtruckle ever," Suna nudged you as you sat alone in the Courtyard, chuckling as he sat down next to you and began talking, "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"How do you always know what to say, but you're the cockiest little shit ever?" you ask, closing your book and facing the chartreuse-eyed idiot, scoffing. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow as he says, "Wasn't it you that avoided him in the first place? Dare I say, you kinda deserve this."

"Oh, how I wish the unforgivable curses weren't illegal right now," you gritted your teeth, standing up from your place at the fountain and kicking a stray rock at Suna, "Because I could literally torture you right now."

"You should just kill me instead," he shakes his head. 

"Merlin's beard, you're one depressed little shit."

"You should talk to him," the annoying wolf catches up to you yet again, walking over to your left so he could stop you from turning to the staircases. You huffed, stomping one foot and placing a hand on your hip as you said, "Rin, for Salazar's sake, not this again."

"What? Classes are over, and he's literally rotting in the dorm. If I get him out after Quidditch today, will you talk to him? At least make the damn effort," Suna hisses, flicking your forehead as his expression clearly sprays more venom than his words. You sighed, shaking your head, "I need to think about it."

"Why the fuck-"

"He said he loved me on the full moon," you paused, "By the Black Lake?" you say hesitantly, making it come out more like a question than an answer. Your eyed averted to the floor, anywhere but Suna, who had his mouth wide open and his eyes actually intrigued in what you had to say now. He cleared his throat begrudgingly, coughing once or twice before saying, "What did you say?"

"We.. erm, got interrupted," you look back up to a shocked Suna, who was edging you to continue, "By erm... the Shack thing."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Rin lets out a breathy sentence, his whole demeanor turning into disappointment, "Why are there so many fucking... ugh!"

"Your pain is understandable, pussy bangs," you giggled, grabbing his robes slightly and leading him to the library to complete your homework. 

“Hey, don’t fucking call me that!”

You had continued to meet up with Kiyoko to go to Quidditch Practice that evening. You managed to catch the Snitch in a few minutes, earning a small, dissent "good job" from Atsumu. It made you smile just a smidge, glad for the smallest interaction in the past week that he had been discharged. A scintilla of regret slipping in your mind as you felt the urge to tease him as if everything was okay. 

Practice ended soon enough, you walking back to the changing rooms with Kiyoko and Osamu, talking about something or the other as you walked into the girls' changing room, parting with the grey-haired werewolf as Kiyoko began, "Osamu says he hasn't been sleeping."

"Stop," you sighed, taking off your shoes and socks as you sat on the bench next to the locker, "—you're not helping and you're making me confused. I talked to Suna, and I'm going to try to talk to Atsumu soon. I need to give him time."

"I literally didn't say anything," Kiyoko laughs, pulling on a grey jumper and jeans as she tilts her head, "You're doing good, bub."

"Thank you..?"

You reminisced about the times in third year how Atsumu used to say, "a cold shower is the answer to all problems", chuckling when you remembered the next part of that sentence as you plopped onto your bed, turning over and reaching to the bag of treats to slip them to Bo. You watched the grey owl slowly gulp down the treat, smiling contently as you hugged a pillow close to your chest. 

"God, Bo. It's late at night and I skipped dinner today of all days," you groaned, getting up to sit at your desk, your head on the table. The owl tilted its head, hooting a few times in response as if saying that you should go to the kitchens to get that snack after all.

"You're always right, Bo. Here have another treat," you cooed, feeding the bird one more crumb then walking out of the Common Room in your invisibility cloak. The House Elves were always kind to you, giving you a snack even in the middle of twilight, and keeping quiet when Filch questions them about how a few Treacle Tarts or dumplings are missing. 

You curse yourself when you almost bump into the wretched cat, namely Mrs. Norris, when you walked into the Kitchens. A House Elf gasped, running to the door and closing it immediately after you pulled off the cloak. 

"[Y/N] must not sneak out at night like this, it will get her into trouble!" Missy, a House Elf behind the counter shrieks. You stifle a giggle, petting the Elf's head lovingly and slipping her a scarf—your heart melting at how the female Elf blushed at the gift, immediately adorning it as she quickly reached into a jar and slipped you a few Pudding cups and Treacle Tarts(which you took into your jacket pocket) before wishing Missy a good night and walking back out. You were on your way back to the dorms when you heard a very... questionable noise, per se. 

"What in the name of Godric," you cursed, simply shaking it off as you walked down the stairs to the dungeons, but then hearing a voice that you knew way too well. 

Atsumu?

You gasped, running back up the stairs as you looked around frantically. The cloak covering you barely as you panted, finally finding the source of the said "noise".

To say you instantly regretted that decision, was probably the biggest understatement of the year. As you see Atsumu, pressing a girl against the wall of the empty hallway(which the professors normally don't check at this hour as they've already gone to sleep), as he left marks on her neck. The girl placed her hand on his head, tangling his piss strands with her nimble fingers as she bit down on her tongue. 

You couldn't believe it. 

It took him one week. One week, to get over you, who he had been pining over for years. He hadn't even thought twice to ask if the so-called "unrequited" feelings were reciprocated. 

You were heartbroken. 

So, what do you do? You let a few tears slip—wiping them away almost instantly as you walked back to the Common Room in rue. But what you didn't know, was that someone in their dorm was cursing out their brother as they looked at a very peculiar map in their hands. 

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 25

-----------

2005

It was the semi-finales for girl’s lacrosse. Miraculously, I was made captain as a freshman. Which meant, for some reason, people were offended and thought that I should be picked on more. Fact of the matter is that lacrosse is a game of strategy. Together; with the help of my teammates, we would play to win. Being captain wasn’t a choice, Finstock made me captain and the role was a big shoe to fill. But here we are, semi-finales.

As we made our way out to the play, I looked at the stands. Mom, Dad, Uncle Noah, Stiles, Scott on one end. Laura and Derek on the other side. 

There were fifteen minutes left in the game, the score was tied. We needed to make one more goal to win and get to the finales. For this next play, I was face to face with the other team captain, waiting for the pearl to be thrown. 

“You don’t deserve to be captain.” The girl glared, her eyes looked like they wanted to melt through my helmet and into my brain. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. I worked my ass off for four years to be captain. What makes you so special?” 

I blinked at her, a little confused as to where this hostility was coming from, “I’m just playing a game.” 

“A real captain knows the lacrosse is more than a game.” She smirked, “When we win this, I’m getting a scholarship to So Cal, so why don’t you just do what freshman do best and lose.” On one hand I felt bad for her. She probably had parents that pushed and pushed for her to be the best. And I also felt bad because I knew we were gonna win.

The ref blew the whistle starting play. And everything was going according to plan. That was until I was passed the pearl. I ran with it, tossing it to another player. Meaning that it was completely unnecessary for me to be tackled and would be considered aggressive. But that didn’t stop the other captain from using her entire body to slam me into the ground. One minute I was standing and the next I had was on the ground. My chest felt tight, like I was straining to breathe. When I opened my eyes, I saw her face over mine, smirking down at me. 

“HEY!” I heard Finstock’s booming voice, “Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that?!” No whistle, either the ref hadn’t seen it or he was allowing it. But Derek wasn’t allowing it. I heard multiple shouts and then watched the player who stood above me get shoved away, Derek replaced her. He knelt down, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Derek, what are you doing?” I groaned. 

“Can you get up?” He asked, trying to help me sit up. I hissed at the movement. 

Derek turned back to the bench, “Get a medic!” And only then did the whistle blow. The girl had given plenty of excuses, but they still gave her team a three minute penalty that made them lose the game. Looks like I had been right. 

I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a concussion but I would be fine just in time for the finales. The whole time in the waiting room, in the room itself, and even when we got home, Derek had been right beside me, holding my hand.

- 

I had grown to hate hospitals and everything about them since the last time I had been to one I had been stabbed. The gowns with the open backs that were way too open to the public. That smell that was a cross between cleaner and the latex and rubber of gloves. The beds that were as hard as a rock and were covered in paper that would crinkle and make noise even if you weren't moving. That apprehensiveness that would build up in your stomach every time you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go through any of that. Since I was a pregnant werewolf, going to the hospital in Beacon Hills was a definite no-no, so the next best option is Dr. Deaton, a veterinarian and a makeshift supernatural doctor. Not to mention a full blown druid in this day and age. But from what I've learned in the past couple years, old magic was very much alive. 

I was sitting on the metal table used for the animals, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for Deaton to come back from getting my medical records emailed to him by Melissa. He could have gotten them himself, he just figured it would be less illegal if he got them from a nurse. 

Thoughts were racing through my head for no rhyme or reason. Since I became a werewolf, every scar or scratch on my body had become only a memory. My stab wound, the acid burns on my legs, the cuts on my face from being tortured all those months ago which really felt more like a lifetime. It had been a different life, a life fabricated through magic and spells. A life that almost didn't feel like mine anymore.

"Sorry, for the wait, (Y/N)." Deaton walked into the room, his eyes scanning over the stack of papers in his hands.

"You're alright, Doc." I smiled, leaning back on my hands, "So how am I looking?"

“Very pregnant.”

"Nothing gets past you, huh?” I smirked. To be fair, I was approaching the three and a half month mark. Deaton smiled, taking my vitals and a vial of blood. 

“So I’ve been made aware that Mr. Hale is the father.” He said, pressing a cotton ball to my skin after removing the needle, “How's that going?"

“About as well as you can imagine.” 

“So not at all?” He asked. I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. 

"Everything looks normal," He smiled as he wrote everything down on his clipboard, "Just need to get a look at the little guy." He looked up, "You said it was a boy, right?" He asked, moving over to get the sonographer that I’m sure had never been used on a human before.

“Unless the baby’s sprouting a third arm. That'd be cool." I smiled, “But yeah, that’s what the ultrasound tech in Scotland said.”

He chuckled and shook his head, "Alright, lay back and lift your shirt up." I laid back on the table, lifting my shirt up. The jelly he put on my stomach was cold and reminded me of the goo that had encased Jackson when he was a lizard person. He moved the sensor over my stomach and looked into the monitor. Ultrasounds were usually a little hard to see anyway, just like a fancy warschak paintings. And the fetus? Kinda like a funky jellybean.

“There we are.” He grinned, “Little werewolf.”

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, "You can tell he's a werewolf?"

"No.” He took the monitor off, handing me a paper towel so I could wipe off my stomach, “But odds are since his parents are both werewolves, it would make sense that the child would be also. However, you had the dormant gene, maybe your child will too." He turned off the sonographer.

“Have any names picked out?”

"I have a few... I liked Jacob, which Derek hated because it was too ‘Twilight’. Then there's one other but I don't know about it." The name that Derek loved more than anything for some reason, "Nicholas." And damn was it good. 

"What about Nicholas Jacob? Just use both of them." 

"Or I could name him after Stiles" I smirked to myself, "Mieczyslaw Nicholas.”

"Maybe that would be a little too much."

“Stiles is a little too much.” I smiled to myself

-

"So Nicholas?" Sheriff looked at me from across the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. I hummed and nodded, sipping my hot cocoa.

"Nicholas?” He asked again.

"Mieczyslaw?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows, "It was his mother's father's name." 

“I remember Grandpa Mitch, trust me." I smiled, holding my mug in both hands, “I was thinking maybe Nicholas Noah.” I avoided looking in his eyes. Emotional talks were never really his strong suit, especially after Aunt Claudia. I wanted to honor him somehow.

He smiled, blinking a few times, “Sounds pretty good to me.” After a moment he asked: "What are you going to do now?"

I finished my drink and stood up to put it in the sink, "My plan, right now at least, is that I'm going to stay here to have the baby... Then...” I washed out the mug, “Then I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to go back to Scotland or stay here." He stood up as well and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, blinking my own tears away. 

Uncle Noah stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "Whatever your decision, I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'll always, always be there for you." 

-

My pajamas had taken a turn for the worst. No more t-shirts and shorts, it’s moo moos and nightgowns from now on. I pulled my night gown over my head, smoothing out the skirt. Did I look like I had raided a grandmother’s closet? Absolutely. I looked down at my stomach, rubbing my hand over my bump.

"Are you a little alien?" I smiled after a moment, listening deeply to his little heartbeat, “Nice.” I glanced over at my desk, then pulled back my blankets to get into bed. I stopped, my head snapping back towards the window where there were red eyes staring back at me. 

 Now, if this was two years ago I would be losing my mind over the fact that there were red eyes staring at me. But since I've gone through emotional Hell, I was feeling rather annoyed by some alpha that just thought they could mosey around my house, around my window, and around my goddamn personal space. I stalked over to the window and slammed it open. 

"Listen, pal, you have about five seconds to get out my yard or I swear by all that is damnable, I will put you through so much pain that your great-grandchildren will be sore."

The eyes came closer, revealing a familiar crooked jaw, "Nice to see you too." 

"You could have just come through the front door, ya know? If Stiles can make a spare key to your house, then he can make you one for his." Scott only looked at me seriously. It was like the kid from three months ago was gone and all there was left was a battle hardened man. 

"Can I please come in?" I stepped away from the window, watching him crawl inside and stand up.

"I've been great, Scott, I've only been in Scotland for months, crying and wondering why none of my friends or family were contacting me. How have you been?" Was it petty? Absolutely, but the hormones were raging. Even if Derek told everyone to stop talking to me, what hold did he have over anyone when Scott was around?

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I came to-"

I cut him off, after finally connecting, "Who did you kill?"

“What?”

"To become an alpha, who did you take it from?" 

"I didn't kill anyone!” He said in an exasperated voice, “Why does everyone ask that? Not killing people has been my thing since Peter bit me." He ran his hand through his shorter hair, it suit him.

It then dawned on me. The one thing that had little to no documentation of. Even the Lunar Circle had just the basics. It was the stuff of legend, a hear say. I didn't think it was possible. 

"A true alpha." He stared at me for a second and blinked a couple times.

"You're a true alpha." I grinned, "Oh my god, Scott, this is unbelievable." I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, "Tell me everything. I wanna know how it happened and what situation you were in. How were you feeling? Were you hurt? Was your body under so much stress that it just happened?”

Scott grabbed my hands and placed them by my sides, "(Y/N), maybe another time I came here for a reason."

"Oh, right, of course." Probably looking ridiculous, “What’s on your mind?”  

"I really don't think it's safe for you here." 

"Here we go agai-" 

"Will you just listen to me before you start whining?" He growled. That certainly shut me up. I raised my eyebrows at him, but I guess I should hear him out. I motioned for him to continue.

"I'm not so much worried about you.” He said, “I know you can take care of yourself. I'm worried about..." He paused, "Uh..." 

“Nicholas.”

"Yeah, I'm worried about Nicholas." He sat in my computer chair and leaned forward, "The pack we're facing don't care who they kill or why, all they want is to hurt us. You're my friend, (Y/N). I don't want anything to happen to you. And I don't want anything to happen to your kid. Please." He rolled forward and took my hands in his, "Please, go back to Scotland. I promise you, you won't be in the dark. You don't deserve to be left out. I'll call myself, and if not me, Stiles will. It's not safe for you.” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. Scott was right, he was completely right. It wasn't safe. I couldn't be a tough alpha when I had so much to live for. Keeping this kid safe is my top priority. As much as I wanted to stay home, it wasn’t safe.

"You'll tell me when it's safe to come back?" 

"You have my word." 

I sighed, looking up at him with a half-smile, "I may be stubborn as hell, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when someone's right. And you're right, Scott. I'll go." 

He closed his eyes, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He dropped my hands and rolled back, "I'm so glad you agreed with my first speech, if you hadn't I would have been improvising for my life." He chuckled.

Shaking my head, I grinned at him, “It’s good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too.”

- 

"So you're going back?" Uncle Noah looked over his coffee with tired eyes, spying my luggage that had only been unpacked for two days. It was a new day and another plane ride.

"It's not safe for me. It's not safe for any of you." I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I know that will never stop you from helping the ones you care about." 

A small smile pulled at his lips, "You're way too good at reading me." 

"Well, I've only known you my whole life." 

He set down his coffee and hugged me tight, like this was the last time he would see me. I know he was worried about me and Stiles, it was in his nature. This was the best option for me. As much as I wanted to stay and fight. I couldn't fight if my child was kidnapped and hell knows what would happen to him. 

Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away, the honking outside meant that Stiles had pulled in and was ready to drop me off at the airport. 

"I'll call you when I land. Or text you. Depends on the time." I kissed his cheek, "Bye Uncle Noah." 

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe." I kissed his cheek. My head held high, I grabbed my bag and my rolling luggage and went out the door. Stiles grabbed my bags, opening the back of Roscoe to throw my luggage in. That was until a familiar black Camero pulled into the driveway, blocking Stiles in. 

"God. Dammit." I muttered to myself. My life was just going swell, wasn't it? I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I felt the burn of acid reflux in my throat, my child showing obvious discomfort as well. Me too, little man. Me too. 

There was no way around it, I couldn’t leave without talking with him. Not that I should have to begin with. I sucked. 

Derek got out of the car, coming around quickly and standing in front of me. 

“Derek, I don’t think you should be here.” Stiles stepped forward. Very sweet, but realistically Stiles wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing against Derek. They stared each other down, the air just filled with masculinity.

“Stiles...” I said, grabbing my bags, “If he wants to take me to the airport, let him.” 

Stiles eyes widened, “You’re really giving him the time of day? Really?” 

Sighing, I pulled Stiles into my arms and hugged him tightly. He hesitated, but hugged me back. 

“I know that this seems like a bad idea, and most of my ideas are bad, but I got this. Trust me.” I smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you.” He pulled away, looking between Derek and I. 

“I love you too. Scott and I will let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“You better.” I turned back to Derek, trying to keep up the attitude I had to keep Stiles at ease. I held out my bags. He took them without a word and we both started the trip to the airport. It was hard to get a read on him at the moment. He emotions were dull, nothing that stood out. He still looked as tense as ever. His brows were knitted together and his piercing green eyes looked hard. 

“So...” He said after a while, “What are you going to do about...” He trailed off. 

“Him?” I looked down at my stomach, “I’m just preparing and getting ready for him. I picked a name too. Nicholas.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, but he hid it, “Hmm.” 

“Derek....” Now or never, “I just need to know why?” 

He inhaled deeply, “I wish I could tell you. I don’t even remember it happening. Like I was under a spell and I couldn’t break out of it.” So he had experienced what I had when I was under Matt’s control. In this situation, in Beacon Hills, there was no reason not to believe him. His heart told me it was true. 

“I’m sorry that I hit you.” 

“I don’t blame you.” He glanced over at me, “If I felt the same thing you did, I would probably lose control too.” 

“I’m tired of people taking advantage of you. If I see that bitch-” I hadn’t realized that my eyes had turned red. 

“(Y/N)...” He reached over his right hand, placing it on my knee, “Calm down.” I took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Just the simplest touch could calm me down and it was something that I missed. 

“Nicholas, huh? I like it.”

Happiness welled up in my chest, “I sure hope so since you picked it.” 

“I didn’t think you liked it.” 

I sat back up and opened my eyes, “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked that name.”

“Riiiiight.” 

By the time the conversation ended, we were at the airport. I reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to stop me. 

“I let you leave alone last time, I’m walking you in."

We got inside and checked in, the only thing left was for me to board. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't take me to the airport last time, because now that he was here, I didn't want to leave him.

"How selfish would it be for me to ask you to drop your life here and come with me?" I leaned on his arm.

"Very. Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. I'm needed here. I have to be here for Cora."

I smiled slightly, "We're gonna get through this. Soon we'll be together again and we can have that big happy family that you deserve. That we deserve."

Derek sighed, resting his head on top of mine, "Is it cliche to hope that this all ends tomorrow?" 

My smile faltered, "Don't believe in miracles, Derek."

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