#sets this down. have a freshly turned werewolf boy :)

[bravevolunteer]

@slaughterlocked asked: sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up. — werewolf verse ?! // 100 nonverbal prompts

THE LAST THING MICHAEL REMEMBERS is stumbling his way back. Or... trying to: the excruciating steps against bursts of intense pain, his own blood coating his clothes and fingertips in an attempt to slow the blood loss, black dots pulling at his vision and the disorientation causing his hands to keep slipping until his legs gave way. He lost consciousness only moments after his body hit the sidewalk, though he must have made it far enough: he could see his father in the corner of his eye just before the dizziness overtook him.

It has been a long time since his father's presence was a comforting one.

Any of the relief that flooded through him then is gone when he opens his eyes. He's laying down, inside, though his vision is still too blurry to tell if it's his room, the living room, somewhere else... a question quickly pushed from his mind as the pain sets in. Even still, there is an undeniable pressure against his chest, constricting his lungs and giving every breath weight. Confused, Michael attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, the sudden movement sending RIPPLES of pain through his head and body. He glances down at himself, spots the bandages peeking out from underneath the fresh shirt.

The bandages... on his right shoulder, torso, leg... Michael's breathing quickens as the dots suddenly connect, the night's terror rushing back to him. It wasn't the first he had wandered alone at night, but venturing through the wooded area further away was a sort of retaliation. The wolf ( ... creature? ) that attacked him was unlike any animal Michael had ever seen in the area ( or ever ), though he was too busy running, kicking, and screaming as its teeth ripped through his flesh to get a good luck at it. The gashes from its claws are deep, but the shoulder wound is by far the worst— just to the side of his neck ( a bite ), it wouldn't stop spilling blood. Michael is certain a few more seconds would have left him dead, but it just... ran away.

Agonizing as it is, the panic causes Michael to frantically force himself up. He immediately groans, the noise weak and grating. His pulse skyrockets, too disoriented to notice his surroundings until his father is directly beside him, his hands a steady guide preventing him from standing. Michael doesn't have the energy to jerk away. In fact, he reaches out to grip his father's arm tight, as if begging for him to stay there.

"What... what... hah—" Groggy. Clearly confused ( symptom of severe blood loss ). There isn't even a point to asking, he's the one with the story. Still, it's the only thing he can force out. "What... happened?" His breathing is still fast, each rise and fall of his chest a monumental task. "I was... after I left... I don't know what...— dad?" It slips out, the vulnerability that comes with such an intense brush with death. The disgust in himself will creep in later; for now, it's all he can do to not fall unconscious again. "...Sorry. I'm sorry."

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Something

Dean Winchester x plus size reader

Not marriage, not kids but something

Warnings: no use of y/n, a little bit of Dean’s insecurity and John’s crap parenting, no dialogue, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, implied smut, mentions of death of a parent

WC: 1k

Minors DNI

Settling down wasn’t in the cards for hunters. There was too much risk, to both themselves and their families. Dean had accepted this a long time ago, pretty much as soon as John first laid a gun in his small hands and told him what lurked in the dark.

He had tried once before but it never worked out. So, he stuck to random hookups with women that would never see his face again. Every once in a while, Sam would attempt to get his older brother to at least entertain the idea of what could be, what should have been, but he was shut down every time. 

Dean was fine with his bachelor lifestyle, actually, he was more than fine with it, but there were moments in the middle of the night when he would turn over in his sleep and reach for someone who wasn’t there. He would watch families interact in those shitty roadside diners, all smiles and laughter like it was a 5 star restaurant. He felt a lurching in his chest, a deep ache that not even his best whiskey could soothe.

But then, you came home.

You were another hunter’s kid from years ago. Similar story, one parent taken out, the other driven mad with the need for revenge. You were a regular fixture in Bobby’s house and thus, in the Winchesters’ lives. The last time Dean had seen you was a month before Sam ran away to Stanford. You were freshly 19 and being forced to leave.

Your mother was taking you to France, apparently the werewolf pack that had killed her partner fled there. She gave you no choice in the matter, just like every other hunting parent. Dean can vividly recall the way you clung to him as you sobbed and begged him not to forget about you. He had held you close, laying a kiss to your hair like it was the last time while he promised it wouldn’t be.

And in a way, he was right. He did see you again and he did get to wrap his arms around your now thicker waist in a hug that was almost 20 years overdue. Sure you were covered in blood and ghoul guts but if it wasn’t the best damn hug Dean ever had. 

You were quickly stolen away from your stolen minivan that you had been living out of and forced into one of the empty rooms in the bunker (one that was conveniently close to number 11). There was the compulsory catch up and then scolding on your end for all the stupid things the boys had done, but once the smacking over the head and general berating was complete, everything was strangely normal.

It was nice to have an extra set of hands for research, someone else that Sam could bore with his weird true crime fetish, a person that was actually willing to help Castiel learn to be human, another like minded hunter that could binge watch Netflix and pig out with Dean on the couch.

Dean was happy to actually have a friend, a good one at that. But there was something deep inside him that dared to wonder. 

You were beautiful, intelligent and a hell of a hunter. He had been dreaming of you for 15 years, his teenage hormones evolved into a bone deep lust that blinded him whenever he saw even a sliver of your skin. He longed to feel your generous curves under his palms, your lips pressed against his own. But more than that, he wanted to wake up next to you every day. Have you sit next to him in Baby, singing old rock songs as he drove. Dean wanted you, through and through.

He knew he didn’t deserve you, not after the things he’s done. But you disagreed. 

It happened so quickly, Dean didn’t see it coming. Suddenly, it was you and not Sam that was patching him up. You were the one going on runs with him. It was you that would sit up with him, glass of whiskey in hand as the ancient record player crooned in the corner.

He only realised what was going on one night in September. The Bunker had been freezing, the weather unseasonably cold. Dean had retired to his room with a couple beers and his Scooby-Doo box set, determined to wait out the cold in comfort as his little brother tried his hand at fixing the boiler. 

It was about 1 and a half seasons in when there came a knock on his door. He was going to ignore it, thinking it was Sam telling him that he also failed at repairing the heating but instead, your voice softly called out to him. 

You shuffled in after a moment, and Dean couldn’t help but smile. You must’ve been wearing at least five layers of clothes (including one of his henleys) and a large blanket wrapped around your shoulders.  His stomach lurched at the sight of your shy smile and chattering teeth. With no hesitation, he lifted the covers and you dove in, snuggling against his chest as he wrapped an arm around your back.

Your hand came to rest softly on his chest, right above his heart and Dean could only pray that you didn’t feel the frantic beat of his pulse. You did.

You said his name so softly he almost didn’t hear it. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat. Before he could react, your lips were on his. He froze for only a second, his brain not comprehending that this was actually happening and it wasn’t some dream.

But then your hands were in his hair and his own had traveled down to your thick thighs, pulling you up to straddle his lap. The cold, the fear, the insecurities were forgotten; washed away in your embrace and your lips. 

He held you close as you took each other apart piece by piece, unwilling to let you go even for a single second now that he had you, as he did every night after. You saved him and kept him afloat. He lived for you, for your smile, for your touch.

It wasn’t exactly marriage and it wasn’t kids but it was something, and for a hunter like Dean, it was more than enough.

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[angryschnauzer]

Castle Under The Stars

Summary: You always worry when its a full moon and your husband is away on assignment, but this full moon is different as he comes home to be with you. Will it be for good? And just how much fun can two werewolves get up to during the full moon when they have a child to look after?

A continuation of Moonlight On The Sand

Pairing: Werewolf Captain Syverson x Werewolf Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Werewolves, Breeding, Breeding Kink.

Typos are free range and organic, allowed to run wild and free. I do not operate a tag list but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get an alert each time i post something new. Past works can also be found there.

Castle Under The Stars

You stepped out onto the back porch and propped the door open with a boot, the warm summer's breeze blowing softly at the net curtains on the kitchen windows, bringing in the scent of the roses in from the garden. Wiping your hands on your apron before hanging it on the little hook by the door, you grabbed your garden shears and flower basket, and headed out with bare feet onto the cool grass. The windows of your cabin all stood open, allowing the warm breeze to flow through the house, but also so you could hear if your little one cried from his nursery.

Quietly you stood and let the breeze push your light skirt against your legs as you carefully selected roses from the overloaded bushes. Small clouds skidded across the night sky, and for a moment you turned your face to feel the soft moonlight on your skin. The reflection of the sun's rays on its surface from orbit made your skin prickle, as if someone was pouring champagne over your limbs, but that was as far as your transformation would go, with the exception of the ring of fire in your irises.

You had been Sixteen when you had been turned. On a geology camping field trip, nature had literally callen and as you’d been in the bushes relieving yourself that’s when the lupine had got you. It took a few months to realise what had happened, and it was only when your monthly period bleed coincided with a full moon did you turn. With irregular cycles through your teens and early twenties, you probably only turned twice, maybe three times a year, but eventually you got used to it.

It had however been a bit of a shock to your new husband, Sy, when you had turned for the first time. He’d knocked you up on the first day he met you, so it took a good 11 months before your cycle had come back, two months after the birth of your precious baby boy. That first night had been a challenge; dealing with a newborn whilst both parents were howling at the moon, however you were thankful that Edith who lived in the cabin down the lane knew of these things, and upon hearing the howling had rushed over in her nightgown. 

Since then Edith had been like a surrogate mother and grandmother, as it turned out her late husband had the lupine tendencies too. Your deployment had ended whilst you were on maternity leave and you’d chosen to leave the Army entirely rather than take a desk job. Sy was special ops and in the middle of another deployment, but you had no idea when that would finish because of the nature of his assignment. Looking up at the moon you wondered where he was, hoping he was coping with the full moon and his monthly transformation. You weren’t ashamed to admit you actually really enjoyed when he was at home for a full moon; he was even more attentive and the sex was mind blowing. Standard sex with Sy left you bow legged and exhausted, but with the added power of the moon… well, it was out of this world and you’d had orgasms so strong you’d actually passed out a couple of times. 

The sounds of the occasional truck on the highway a couple of hundred feet away sporadically filled the night, and you thought about that time Sy had driven out to the lake with you and you’d spent the night fucking under the moonlight in the flatbed which he’d covered with blankets and throw pillows. You’d been seven months pregnant but good god it was some of the best sex you’d ever had. 

As you shifted to reach a particularly large rose you could feel your panties stick to you, just the thought of Sy was making you wet and ready. You wished you knew when he would be home, taking matters into your own hands wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the real thing from the man you loved.

Just then you heard a pair of owls hooting in the distance, a truck on the highway honking its horn, so you didn’t notice the sound of tyres on the long grassy driveway that ran up the hill to the cabin. Humming to yourself you were running your fingertips over the soft petals of a trailing white rose when the first hint of his scent reached you on the wind. It made you stop and doubt yourself, before it hit again and you felt the heat in the pit of your stomach bloom. Dropping the basket and shears on the grass you ran to the front of the cabin, the breeze catching at your skirts before you finally saw him, standing at the open gate to the garden, his large duffel hanging from his shoulder, the fire in his eyes as he finally saw you.

“Sy!”

He let the bag drop to the floor as you ran into his arms, launching yourself at him, your legs were wrapped around his thick waist as you kissed him. His deep laugh as you peppered his face with soft kisses, the tears of happiness rolling down your cheeks;

“I’m here Darlin’” he practically growled, and that’s when you remembered the moon.

Pulling back you looked him in the eyes, the golden ring of fire matching your own, and as he took long strides across the grass you felt the coupling connection again, just like that first night in the desert. 

He set you down on the lawn, laying you softly on the grass as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck. Grasping the front of your dress he let out a growl as he ripped the garment clean in two, humming his appreciation at your swollen breasts where you were still breastfeeding and soft belly, before your soaked panties met the same fate as your dress. His lips continued their path down your body, until he reached the apex of your thighs and inhaled deeply, his eyes shining bright in the moonlight before he dived in and licked a wide stripe through your soaked folds. There under the soft caress of the moon’s rays your lupine husband pulled the first of many orgasms from your body that night, surrounded by the wild calls of nature and the overwhelming scent of the roses. 

-

Sitting at the kitchen table, the morning sunlight streamed in through the windows as you flipped the pancakes on the skillet, smiling as you watched your two boys have breakfast. Michael sat in his high chair, babbling away as Sy seemingly understood every word of gibberish that came from his son’s lips. 

Sliding the pancakes onto a plate, you set it down on the table before you felt a strong arm around your waist and Sy pulled you across his lap, his massive hands smoothing over your bare thighs where all you wore were panties and his t-shirt;

“Steady there Darlin, making me want more than just pancakes for breakfast if you’re walkin’ around in just this”

Just then there was a knock at the screen door, all three of you turning to see Edith smiling and waving from the other side;

“Edith! Come in girl, been looking forward to seeing ya!” Sy called out, a huge grin on his face that got even bigger when he spied the basket she was carrying covered in a red and white checkered napkin.

You reluctantly climbed off your husband's lap, excusing yourself to quickly grab your robe as Sy and Edith talked;

“Big Sy, i knew it was your truck that rumbled past my cabin last night”

“Was indeed, home with my girl and my little man” he paused as Edith set the basket onto the table; “Those aren’t….?”

“They sure are” she pulled the napkin up and underneath were her famous peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies.

Sy quickly pulled one from the basket and snapped it in two, handing half to Michael who happily chewed on the freshly baked treat.

“Hmmmnnnn, Edith, i could get used to these”

“You staying this time Sy?”

“I sure am Edith”

“Does she know?”

“Nope, wanna surprise her later”

“Moon’ll be up again tonight, you want me to watch Mikey?”

Just then you walked into the room, catching the last of the conversation;

“Are you sure?”

Edith stood and smiled, rubbing a finger over Michael’s chubby little cheek;

“Absolutely, why don’t I drop by after he’s had his supper?”

-

Setting Edith up with everything she would need for an evening of watching Jeopardy as your son slept peacefully in his crib, you grabbed the picnic basket and blanket and gave Michael a kiss, before stepping out into the night air. Sy had already taken off, with the moon rising before sundown he got antsy, but he would meet you at the lake. He’d set everything up ready, and just told you to drive his truck down, he’d set off on foot earlier, wanting to burn some energy in the calmness of nature.

The truck's tyres crunched on the gravel as you parked up, the lake a still mirror for the pink purple skyline as the sun set behind the mountains in the distance. But none of those were what you were looking at, no, what drew your attention was your husband quietly sitting on a rock at the shoreline, his boots resting beside him as he let his feet cool in the waters. With your sandals left in the truck you walked across the soft sand before reaching the shoreline, sitting beside him as he wrapped his big arm around your shoulders.

“Sy, what are you thinking about?”

He looked at you, his smile warm as his eyes shone amber in the low light;

“Lots of things Darlin… how lucky i am to have you in my life, how i don’t think i could have coped with what happened if it hadn’t been for you”

“Oh Sy…” your eyes watered; “I love you so much”

“I love you too Darlin. You and Mikey are my world…” he paused, poignantly; “There’s something else i wanna tell ya Darlin…”

For a moment you heart sank, dreading what he was going to say;

“Sy…”

“Ya know how Walt’s construction business is expanding and he needs a new site manager?”

“What?” whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that

“Well, i got a surprise…” he pulled you onto his lap, his hands resting on your ass; “I’m done with the Army”

“No! You’d better not be fibbing…” your eyes were full to the brim, nervous tears threatening to spill

“Not fibbing… i’m done. Wanted to keep it a surprise until i knew for sure that the assignment was completed”

Crying happy tears you wrapped your arms around your husbands shoulders, burying your face in his neck as you sobbed joyfully that he wasn’t going away again. 

When you had finally settled down and Sy had reassured you for the 10th time that it was definitely true, he was definitely staying home for good, the pair of you stood and started to walk along the shore of the lake barefoot, the warm sand beneath your feet as you clasped your hand around his.

The gentle sound of the water coupled with the feel of your skin touching his calmed Sy, even though the moon was out high above the pair of you, he didn’t feel the need to turn, the sense of utter contentment a balm on his soul. As you had rounded the lake he stumbled on a pebble, and in turn a giggle escaped your lips. Steadying himself he smirked and kicked at the water, splashing you a little as you let out a shriek at the cool water hitting your warm skin. Retaliating you splashed him a little more than you were expecting, soaking one side of his cargo shorts and he paused and looked at you with a feral smile spreading across his lips;

“Oh, now you’re in for it Darlin…”

Your legs carried you as you ran through the surf, knowing Sy would eventually catch you, yet the thrill was in the chase. You could hear his heavy footfalls gaining on you, but you had the advantage of being light on your feet and made a sharp turn into the woodland, the soft grass beneath your feet dry and coarse. You realised he wasn’t behind you and you slowed, turning to try and figure out where he went, when suddenly he emerged from the bushes, his eyes glowing amber in the darkness and he tackled you to the ground, yet somehow managed to turn your bodies so you were on top of him;

“Gotcha!”

He pulled you down so he could kiss you, turning your bodies until he was on top, shifting his knees so he could nestle between your thighs. Your skirt had rucked up in the tussle, and the harsh brush of his shorts against the soft skin of your thighs had your hips bucking up against him, eager for friction as your arousal grew. With the quick fumbling of eager hands you were both soon naked, Sy kneeling between your spread thighs to take in the sight of you, your nipples hard and your arousal a sheen between your legs. Grabbing your hips he pulled you up his thighs, your back arched and your shoulders still on the ground as he thrust into you, spearing your flesh with his own and you both let out a howl of pleasure. 

Sy couldn’t tear his gaze away from where your bodies were joined, watching each time he pulled out and saw your juices glistening on his shaft, or how your cunt stretched open as he pushed this fat dick back into you, parting your walls and you cried out in pleasure. He fucked you like the feral beast he was, claiming his mate and catching the tell tale scent that drove him wild;

“Fuck, you’re ripe… gonna breed you and give you another pup. Thought i caught the scent last night but now i know for sure… can’t wait to see your belly round and your tits even fuller…”

He drove into your fertile body, feeling you cum around him yet he pounded through your orgasm knowing your cervix would be wide open now that you had cum and ready to take his seed. You were whimpering in his grasp, desperate for more but overwhelmed at the same time; 

“Sy… please… please put a baby in me…”

“Almost… there… Darlin’...” he grunted through thrusts, before his body went rigid and he threw his head back, filling your womb with pump after pump of his thick seed, a broad smile on his face as he even held you in place knowing that gravity would help get every last drop of cum through your cervix and flood your fertile ground. 

When he had finally finished coming he carefully settled the two of you onto the soft grass, holding you tight as your bodies were still joined, knowing that he would stay hard for another two or three goes. By the time he would be finished your bodies would be battered and bruised from the intensity of your lovemaking, yet the power of the moon would ensure by morning you would be healed, no outwardly visible signs that the feral carnality of the nights pleasures left behind, even if it meant you’d be sitting down tenderly on a cushion for the following 48 hours. 

It was well into the early hours when the pair of you finally limped back to Sy’s truck, resting your head on his shoulder as he carefully drove home, the moon having set early thanks to its cycle. 

When you arrived back at the cabin Edith was having a cigarette on the porch, the baby monitor resting on the rail next to her;

“Got it outta your systems?” she grinned as she took one last drag before crushing it in a plant pot of sand that sat at the doorway. 

“For tonight” Sy smirked as he carried you bridal style up the steps of the porch; “Can we book ya for tomorrow night too?”

“Sure thing Big Sy, but you’ll owe me”

“I’ll come fix the drainpipe around your porch once the full moon has passed”

“Deal… you’re a good-un” the old woman smiled as she grabbed her keys and slid the baby monitor into your lap as you quietly snoozed in your husbands arms; “It’ll be a girl this time”

Sy’s eyes went wide;

“How do you…?”

“I just know Sweetheart… my husband wasn’t the only one that’d turn ya’know…”

Sy held you as he watched the old woman make her way down the grassy lane to her cabin;

“She’s full o’ surprises is that one…” he looked down at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, before catching the screen door with his booted foot; “Lets get you to bed for some rest… gotta recharge for tomorrow night… maybe make it twins…”

You shifted in his grasp;

“That’s not how it works” you mumbled sleepily, a smile on your face, but the truth was neither of you knew how it worked when you were lupine… really, anything could happen.

[moraxswhore]

For The Love Of Blood Wards

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39088404

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. No one dared to speak first. Remus kept a worrying eye on Sirius who was sitting on the sofa in Dumbledore’s office, too worn out to speak. They’d just had their first real conversation in over 12 years and it took a lot out of both of them, Sirius more so as he was still fighting off the long lasting effects of the dementors kiss. Remus had to calm him down from a panic attack more than once, and even now he’s sitting wearing Remus’ jumper, clutching it as if it’s about to be ripped from his hands.

Remus turned his eyes to watch Dumbledore, who was leaning too casually against his desk for his liking, his eyes however were still trained on his freshly shined shoes. There was so much he wanted to say to the man but he knew he needed to hold his temper, Merlin knows what Dumbledore would have to say if he lashed out.

“Tell me what happened.” Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice calm but the way his jaw was clenched, Remus could tell he was anything but that. 

“Do you mean last night? Or the night where you falsely accused my husband of murder and threw him into Azkaban without a trial?” 

“Remus, he was the only person there, it was obvious at the time that it was him.”

“You would’ve know that it wasn’t if you had given him a fucking trial and asked him what had happened.” Remus was struggling to keep calm, with it being only a few hours after the moon had set he could still feel the wolf's anger and longing in his bones.

“Well, why don’t we ask him now? Huh?” Dumbledore turned to Sirius who was still sitting on the sofa, still hugging Remus’ jumper to himself. Remus had decided that there was no way he was letting Sirius out of his sight, he couldn’t lose him again, not after he had only just gotten him back. “Not got anything to say, Mr Black? We can always just make you talk.” Dumbledore’s wand is in his hand within seconds being raised and pointed at Sirius, Remus was in front of him, blasting Dumbledore back with a wandless expelliarmus before he can even think of what spell he was going to send towards Sirius.

Remus snapped, pulling his wand from the holster he kept it in, a gift from James for his 15th birthday, pointing it at the Headmaster as he moved in front of Sirius to block Dumbledore’s view of him.

“Point your wand at my husband again and you won’t have a fucking hand to hold it with.” He felt Sirius take his hand and give it a squeeze before taking it away again. He felt himself calm down a bit, Sirius always had that effect on him.

His focus snapped back to Dumbledore as he watched the man stumble to his feet, putting his hands up like a white flag, Remus’ stance didn't change.

“Remus, I apologise for my outburst, could we please have a conversation, like adults?”

“You lost that right the moment you falsely imprisoned my husband without a trial, all for the sake of benefitting your plan!” Remus was furious, how dare he act like nothing had happened to them, to all of them. Sirius was literally unable to speak because of the isolation he put up with in Azkaban and the after effects of the Dementors. “Your plan, which by the way, included grooming a 13 year old boy to fight your battle because you’re too much of a coward to fight it yourself.”

“I’m not grooming him!”

“Not grooming him? Would you prefer a different word? How about manipulation, huh? Or maybe gaslight.'' His hands shook with anger, he knew he would feel the pain from this later. Too much stress so soon after the moon always made the pain worse. “You took him in, you gave him a place where he felt accepted and loved, you showed him that it was okay to be different, sound familiar? Because that is the exact same thing you did to an 11 year old werewolf before you sent him off to war to watch all his friends die. You abused our Godson for 13 years just so you could turn him into a fucking pawn.”

“It was for his protection.”

“Like fuck it was! You know for a fact that he would've been safer with Sirius and I. We would have provided him with protection that no blood wards could have.”

“The blood wards worked just fine!”

“No they didn’t, because if this was even slightly for Harry’s protection then you would’ve remembered that blood wards require love to work and in case you didn’t know, Harry wasn’t loved in that house. He has faced years of abuse from every person there, they made him into their slave, he cooks and cleans for them every single day, but you knew that, didn’t you? Cause you have lovely old Mrs Figg keeping an eye on him for you, don’t you?”

Dumbledore didn’t say a word, Remus continued speaking.

“That right there, is all the proof I need to know that this was never about protecting Harry, or me, or even Sirius. It was about you showing us care and love and quote-unquote protection for the first time in our lives, so we would trust you and look up to you. You used that power you had over us to shape us into pawns for you to use, you raised us so you could send us all off to war like lambs for slaughter.” 

Dumbledore lowered his head, refusing to meet Remus’ eyes. Good, he should feel ashamed.

“Sirius and I are adopting Harry, which by the way is what should’ve happened in the first place 13 years ago, and he is going to be loved and have people who he can talk to and trust. People who aren’t doing it for their own selfish benefit. And if you even think about speaking to Harry before running it past either myself or Sirius then I will rain hell on you and your entire career.”

Remus turned to Sirius, helping him up from the couch before they made their way towards the door, he sensed a shift in the energy behind him and quickly whipped around, wand raised. He saw Dumbledore with his wand pointed at the pair sending a hex at them both, Remus quickly casting a counter curse at him before making sure Sirius was alright.

“You are a coward, Albus, that is something that will never change. Never thought I'd see the day I witness you curse a wizard who has their back turned.” The pair quickly left the room, leaving a stunned Albus Dumbledore behind them.

[ally22042000]

Linked by fate

Shifting

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 1.7K

Commenting and rebloging is always appreciated.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are going to like this chapter. I was thinking about creating little mood boards, so you have an overview of their fur colour, etcetera. Let me know what you think about that. -Ally

It was in elementary when your animal instincts slowly started to make their appearances. While the position a wolf had was clear from birth, their natural behaviours didn’t start to show until later into their upbringings. Unhurriedly the process begins during childhood and steadily takes over more of their senses. The stronger instincts like the alpha’s power to force others to follow any of their command or heats and ruts, didn’t begin until the late teenage years. To ensure the safety of everyone and the capability for beta and omega parents to raise alpha children.

Another feature that slowly starts is the ability to turn into your wolf form. Namjoon was the first of our pack to shift. The calling to protect his younger to strong. It took over his body and made him show his true power as the pack alpha he was born to be. His parents were immensely proud, thankful that he wasn’t a late shifter. Wolfs that didn’t turn before their fourteenth birthday were often frowned upon and seen as a lacking member of the clan.

Next in line was Hobi. He had always had a strong connection to his basic instincts. Having been trained to fight from a young age and coming from a strong lineage of worriers, nobody was surprise that he shifted shortly after he turned nine. Since than he often favoured to walk around in is furred form. It felt more like himself, is what he said whenever someone asked.

Jungkook shift was a surprise to everyone. It was rare for someone, who didn’t come from a strong blood line to turn before their tenth birthday but like always the golden boy defeated any standards and turned on his eight birthday. All of you had gathered in his small living room. With his parents both being omegas they weren’t able to afford much. Most jobs, especially the ones who help authority, where given to alphas or betas. Omegas were regarded as to much of a push over to stand their ground when needed. That lead to them having a smaller income than the other to wolf species. But disregarding the financial consequences and the fact they wouldn’t be able to have a child with each other, they stayed together; their love too strong to break. Considering the impossibility of them having a child together, Jungkook knew from a young age, that he was adopted. A fact that never bothered him. Something his parents were eternally grateful for.

His mother brought in the cake and set it down in front of the little boy. Everyone around him was singing, while he closed his eyes and made a wish. Desiring that this moment would never fade, him surrounded by the people he cared deeply for. Everyone healthy and a smile painting their lips while they celebrated his birthday. He filled his lungs with air and looked at the eight little flames in front of him. But instead of the sound of rushing air and cheering, the ripping of cloth was heard, and a little black wolf was sat on the stool in lieu.

The room went silent everyone staring at the puppy with the big eyes. Slowly similes formed on their faces, happy that a new wolf found its fur. Cheers and clapping filled the room. Congratulations came flying Jungkook’s way, little hands stretching and shoving to touch his fur. His father returning with a camera and capturing the scene. His mother wiping away a stray tear of happiness. Glad she was able to witness that new chapter in her son’s live. Meanwhile Jin watched the situation from his chair unmoving and having eyes for one thing and one thing only: “Yeah, that’s really great but can we eat cake now.”

Jin and Tae funnily shifted at the same time. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and all of you with the exception of Namjoon and Hoseok, who were attending a pack meeting in request of their parents, were playing in Yoongi’s backyard. Both his parents were gone one a hunting trip for a few days, like they often were, leaving Yoongi and his brother on their own. The beta was in his wolf form, having turned a few weeks ago while turning on the shower and the water having been too cold. His brown fur with a read hint feeling silky as you braided it. When you stared, he let out a little huff, showing annoyance at your antics, but being too lazy to move he let you do your thing. You smirked to yourself, knowing that he actually enjoyed the feeling of your finger running through his fur.

Jimin and Jungkook were training on one side of the huge yard. Both of them started taking a liking to taekwondo. Meanwhile the other two troublemakers were playing a game of badminton on the other side of the field. A loud yell was heard, when Jin lost another point to the younger, the wind’s fault of course.

After two more failed attempts the oldest threw down his racked in anger and started chasing the dark haired. Laughter filled the air as Tae took off. The feel of the chase awoke something primal in Jin and before he knew it a new sensation washed over his skin and he suddenly chased Tae on four legs instead of the usual two. The youngers instincts were triggered by the older wolf chasing him and his own first shift took place. Tae had a soft looking, sand coloured fur, while Jin was another brown one but with more of an ashy touch.

The rest of the afternoon the both of them explored their new ability alongside Jungkook. Jimin had taken residency behind you, back hugging you while watching the others. Although you couldn’t see his face, you felt the wave of sadness that washed over him. The both of you were the only ones who hadn’t turned yet. You were only twelve so you still had enough time before it would be considered abnormal, but the pressure lingered.

Jimin didn’t turn until he was seventeen, a fact which cost him a lot of fights with his parents and multiple appointments with his doctor. Countless nights spent in your bed, crying into your pillow, screaming because of the pain this was causing him. With him being the alpha, he was expected to be this strong wolf that no one stood a chance against, but here he was not able to do the simplest thing known to your beings.

When he did turn his wolf was coated in a beautiful fur of the purest white you had ever laid eyes upon. His animal form as elegant as his human. His parents were proud and from there perspective Jimin’s flaw had faded just like their problems, but in reality, their relationship never went back to the way it was. He wasn’t the kid that ran home from school because he missed his mother anymore. Or the one that would tremble on his feet at his first dance performance, until he saw his fathers encouraging smile, which could wash away any problem, and let him be the beautiful swan he was.

You had turned a day after Jimin, had cried yourself to sleep the night before at the fact that you were the only one of your group that hadn’t turned yet. You were happy for Jimin when he called you and told you about the great news; genuinely. But the fear and self-hatred crawled up on you at night. Reminding you of your duty, as an omega and as a wolf, to your pack and your incapability of living up to it.

The following day you felt nauseous and empty, but still your parents forced you to attend school. As a senior it was important to be present as often as possible and to learn until your brain smoked to insure you could attend the collage of your choosing. You made it to two lessons, before the sick feeling in your stomach won the upper hand and you ran to the bathroom. Having arrived at the stall and preparing yourself to let out your small breakfast, a warmth like never before overcame you. You let out a pained breath as you felt your body expand and your cloth rip. And then you stood there, grey fur covering your body as you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Your ears flexed at every sound that could be heard from outside. The footsteps of a person running somewhere; probably late for class. The uncomfortable squeaking of a chalk on a black board. Then a waft of a delicious smell slipped through the opening beneath the door. The cafeteria ladies had started cooking lunch. Hamburgers and fries how it seemed. And then you could smell a familiar scent, one that you would be able to pick up anywhere. Clumsily you were able to open the door with your bowl sized paws. You hurried down the hallway, slipping a few times on the freshly cleaned tiles.

You almost ran Namjoon over when you saw him. Standing before his locker, he was grabbing a history book for his next lesson, when you bumped into him. At first, he was simply shocked, pondering why a stranger would run into him like that. But then he picked up on your sent slowly, his olfactory sense not having fully developed yet, it took him awhile to realise who was standing in front of him.

A lazy grin covered his face as realisation hit him. Slowly he got down on his knees and warped his arms around your neck: “Hello my pretty omega, welcome to your true form.”

The others were ecstatic when they heard the good news. Happy that all of their group members had been blessed with the ability to shift, knowing of the horrific outcome the situation could have had, had you not turned before your eighteenth birthday. When every wolf was fully developed, and alphas gained the capability of forming their pack and gifting their mark.

Your pack was safe, healthy, and happy, and that was all that concerned you for now.

[sillylittlelouie]

Children Develop Trust

Awareness was slow in coming, after the late night that he'd had last night. It came in parts, ebbing and rising like the tide. The first thing that Frankenstein noticed in one of his more lucid moments, was that there was a weight on his chest. A warm, sweaty and panting weight, that shivered slightly, even as it peacefully snored. Swallowing his disgusted sigh, he looked down at the child whose upper body laid across his chest.

M-21 whined softly in his sleep as he wiped his runny nose in the scientist's sleeping shirt. He shifted, dragging more of his body onto Frankenstein's chest.

He must have agitated his ribs, as he let out a keening wail before he'd done much moving.

Frankenstein waited with bated breath, to see what his little one's reaction would be.

When the boy's fever had first set in, he'd been inconsolable. The slightest brush against his chest, or movement of his ribs while he slept would have woken him with a bout of coughing that would culminate in a bawling fit. Now, the young werewolf merely whimpered, shifting once more before settling into deep slumber once more.

Whether M-21's decreased discomfort came from the healing of his injuries or adaptation to the pain, Frankenstein wouldn't be able to tell. Not without getting the child up for a series of tests.

He pursed his lips. M-21 wasn't a bundle of overactive pain receptors anymore. Nor was he losing any more much-needed sleep.

That thought brought a smile to Frankenstein's face as he craned his neck to press a soft kiss to the boy's sweaty forehead. It was a small blessing that he would not take for granted.

Still, he would have loved to rend Shark to pieces for putting his youngest through this suffering. But alas, the dead could not be brought back to life, no matter what Mary Shelley had speculated.

Still, a man could dream.

Unless he had an important meeting that required his physical presence.

Frankenstein opened his eyes, not knowing when he had closed them.

Right, he had that board meeting today.

With a heavy heart, Frankenstein sat up carefully, one hand under M-21's bum and the other on the back of his neck, attempting to rouse his little one with the action. When that failed he gently, but incessantly patted the boy on his bum.

It was slow going, but eventually, M-21 grumbled as he cracked open an eye. The patting continued, and the other eye opened. A pathetic whine came from him.

It was all that Frankenstein could do, to stand his ground and insist that the child woke up. He had to force himself to keep tapping M-21's bottom, until the boy stopped his whining.

"Good morning," the scientist whispered, smiling when the boy sleepily grumbled at him once more.

"Mm'ning Ff'anken," he murmured rubbing at his eyes with tiny fists. There had been casts on those arms, up to three days ago.

"Will you walk, or would you like to be carried?" Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with his ward's legs. But, after being brutalized by an overgrown bully, Frankenstein felt that the werewolf was entitled to a bit of spoiling-

"...c'n walk..."

-which was always going to be declined, apparently.

"That's not what I asked," Frankenstein replied, taking the boy's hand regardless, "but I will accept that answer."

Frankenstein led him out of the room and down into the living room. Setting him down on the couch, he allowed him to capture a few more minutes of sleep as he went ahead and began preparing breakfast. The smells soon roused the other members of his household and, one by one, they all joined the scientist and the young werewolf.

Seira's gentle voice drifted into the kitchen as she led M-21 away for a bath. Her exact words were lost, covered up by the sound of the little one's grumbling, and the rustle of Regis as he prepared their belongings for school. Tao and Takeo were the next to shuffle down. The hacker bounding with all the exuberance of a puppy, while the sniper silently slid into the room. Both immediately migrated towards the coffee pot, casting wary glances at him.

Frankenstein gave them a tired smile as he flipped a pancake, and they relaxed slightly.

"How's M-21?" Tao ventured, pouring a large mug of coffee. A very large mug.

Frankenstein eyed it skeptically. He kept on frowning at it, until Tao finally got the message.

"He's doing much better," he replied, smiling brilliantly once he saw the caffeine being split into two mugs. "His fever's been greatly reduced, and he's been staying awake for longer."

M-21 had also been sleeping for longer periods without nightmares, but Frankenstein was sure that he didn't need to mention it. They'd all noticed the distinct lack of screeching in the middle of the night, he was sure.

"Will you be sending him to school then?" Takeo asked, taking the second mug from Tao. Confusion marred his features when Frankenstein shook his head. "Why not? If he's doing much better, then shouldn't he be able to resume his schooling?"

"While his internal bleeding has stopped, his temperature is still very high, Takeo."

The sniper's gaze sharpened. "Didn't you say that his fever was lowered as well?" he shot back, as if he were daring Frankenstein to renege on his words.

As if he would take the child and flee, if he found that Frankenstein was unreliable. The only thing stopping him, the scientist surmised, was the fact that he would have to take M-21 back to the Union, if he did.

Again, Frankenstein sighed. He began putting their breakfast on plates as he contemplated his words.

Tao and Takeo were much more stable than M-21, and their modifications were more complex. Illness, let alone illness in unmodified humans, was most likely an unfamiliar concept for them.

"His fever is still high enough to be dangerous, for a regular human."

Takeo nodded, his face smoothing out into an unreadable slate. "So you will both remain home for a little longer?"

A tempting thought, but an ill-advised one, considering the amount of paperwork that he just knew was waiting for him. "He's coming to work with me today," Frankenstein sighed, turning his back on them as he motioned for them to take a few plates and follow him into the dining room. His right hand ached at the thought of the veritable mountain of paper. "I have a very important meeting today, and I can't afford to miss it. M-21 however, can be in the office while I conduct my meeting."

He set his cargo down on the table and paused, hands resting on the back of a chair. He'd need both hands and then some, if he wanted to take stock of all the times that his colleagues of years past had ever needed to bring a young child to the factory. Or, in more recent cases, the office. "It might even be expected, in fact."

When he looked at the two DA-5 members, he was a bit surprised to see a calculating glint in Tao's eyes. He'd thought that the hacker had finally been satisfied with the results of his previous tests of Frankenstein's reactions. Apparently he'd been wrong.

"Ya sure that you're not only taking him because you think that everybody else thinks you should?"

For a split second, Tao's easy grin fell away, replaced with something colder. More clinical.

Then it returned, warm enough to  melt the ice in the freezer, and the meat in the deep freeze. His eyes however, remained frozen.

Frankenstein pursed his lips. It seemed that it was finally time to place all of his cards on the table. Because, depending on his next answer, he'd never earn the hacker's complete trust.

Honesty would be the best policy, at this moment.

He smiled at the two men as he stretched a hand out to the hallway, where Seira was just emerging with a freshly showered and, surprisingly, coherent child.

"Well," he started, giving Seira a grateful nod as he gently lifted M-21 into his arms, "I'd be lying if I said that that wouldn't be an added reason to keep him close." He tweaked the child's nose, relishing the fact that the boy was feeling well enough to bat his hand away.

Still smiling, he swept over to join his patiently waiting master at the table.

M-21 was in pain. Raizel was certain that he could feel that pain, despite the fact that he'd  been unable to sense the emotions of the teachers once they were in the administration wing, and he was in his classroom.

In his mind's eye, he could see the youthful face, contorted in pain, as it had been for those first few nights. The wet, hacking coughs drifted into the room, echoing around and drowning each of the human professor's words.

When it became unbearable, Raizel swallowed his recalcitrance and peered into the minds of his unconcerned colleagues, if only to discover how they could ignore the sound.

…the sound was the product of his own subconscious? That would not do.

That was how he found himself standing on the inside of Frankenstein's office, listening to the child's ragged breathing as he slept on the sole sofa in the room.

His friend had run from the room only a few minutes after Raizel had joined him in his office, but not before leaving him with explicit instructions on what should be done if the young one woke before his return.

Raizel had almost been sorely tempted to cut the human off as he gave a staggeringly large list that he had no hope of remembering. Decorum, however, kept his mouth shut.

Barely.

But, a victory was a victory nonetheless, and Frankenstein was allowed to list duties and plans and contingency plans, right up until he was forced to leave or risk missing the meeting entirely.

In a few seconds, his feet had taken him from the center of the room, and over to the sofa. Leaning over, he used a single finger to stroke a plump cheek. A memory of the recently mottled skin rose to the fore of his mind, causing him to frown.

The assassin that Tao and Takeo had called their teammate had caused the boy grievous bodily harm.

Frankenstein, to his credit, had tried to keep the full extent of the damage from them. But, such a level of suffering was impossible to hide. Even if one was as talented as Frankenstein.

As if he sensed Raizel's disquiet, M-21 drew back with a whimper. When the boy squirmed and let out a breathless cry, he realized what was going on.

Placing a hand at M-21's side to prevent him from moving anymore, Raizel winced at the feel of a section of ribs as they flailed about. Every time M-21 inhaled, that particular area dug into his lungs, the pressure only being relieved when he exhaled.

Raizel frowned once more.

Blood had already been collecting in the boy's lungs, because of the stab wound that Shark had delivered. With this...Raizel's mind blanked, and he drew on Frankenstein's knowledge for more assistance.

With the 'flail chest', M-21's ribs were bruising the boy's lungs. Already, there was blood pooling within, and air escaping his lung.

Frankenstein would have to cut the boy open, in order to repair this damage. At M-21's age, there was no way that his body would be able to heal without assistance.

Or...

Frankenstein would worry if he ever found out what he was about to do. But the child was in pain, and Raizel...h-he couldn't let the boy suffer any more than he already had. He wouldn't let the boy suffer.

Not when he was so young, with so much more of his life ahead.

The thought of such a thing was inherently abhorrent, for some reason.

Glancing around to make sure that they were indeed alone, the Noblesse began funneling his power into the child's chest. The infantile bone resisted his efforts at first, adamantly committing to their positions. But, at Raizel's insistence, they began to ease into their proper positions.

Through it all, M-21 wore a grimace. Once it was finished though, he heaved a sigh of relief and burrowed further into his blanket and the couch.

Drained by the effort, Raizel sank into a nearby chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them again, there was a faint sense of pressure against his torso.

Glancing down, Raizel froze at the sight of the white blanket draped across his upper body. How had..? He looked up, scanning the seemingly empty room for M-21.

"You're up."

Raizel looked down at his feet. A pair of grey eyes blinked back up at him.

"Where's Franken?" M-21 asked. He might have added on something else, but the rest was lost to his yawn. His eyelids began drooping, and, as if it would stop him from yawning once more, he began to crawl into Raizel's lap. "...'m ribs don't hurt no more."

"They've healed," Raizel informed him.

The boy yawned again, curling up against his chest. "...'s good, right...?"

"Yes, it is."

Another yawn. "Good."

Raizel held himself stiffly as he allowed the wolf pup to make himself comfortable. Once the boy was settled, he allowed his hand to rest atop his head.

Frankenstein had been doing so with increasing frequency, during the past few days. He'd claimed that the motion had proved to be soothing, for M-21.

However, now that he was here, running his hand through the boy's hair, he wondered if his friend had also been finding comfort in the motion.

M-21 shifted beneath his hand, and Raizel looked down, slightly curious as to what he would do next.

The boy however, seemed content to allow the question in his heart to go unsaid, if even for a few moments more.

Raizel's hand resumed its path, combing through the grey locks. He stroked his head in silence, mindful to avoid the burn of M-21's desire, lest he unwittingly intrude upon his thoughts.

His hand fell away when M-21 began moving again. But, before he could glance at the boy, his vision was filled with grey.

Raizel blinked, and the grey retreated, just enough for him to see the full face.

"I..." M-21 began, hesitancy clouding his voice, hanging around him like a dark curtain. "Can...can I-" he swallowed, and fell silent.

His mind, however, was a cacophony of half-formed questions and thoughts. Nothing would stay, flitting into being and dissipating just as quickly as they had come.

"I wanna-"

The rubble.

The pile of rubble that had trapped M-21's comrade loomed, higher and more daunting than Raizel had ever seen it, whenever it graced the little one's thoughts.

He blinked, his hand resuming its path across the top of M-21's head. "I'm sure that he would not mind if you were to go and visit him." He paused, using his fingers to loosen a knot in the child's hair. "I will accompany you."

The pup gave him a weak smile. "Can...can I bring some flowers too? I wanna pick flowers for him, because...because..."

It flashed across his mind's eye, almost too quickly for him to get a proper impression. But Raizel had seen it.

He smiled. "As many as we can."

[softboywriting]

Back To You (WIP)

Summary: After six years away you’ve returned to your hometown to be reunited with Shawn, the man you loved and left behind. Much has changed, including Shawn having a son, but your love for him has not. You’ll have to navigate falling in love all over again, rouge werewolves, and being a parent to the child you never thought you’d have. [werewolf story]

Word Count: 14k

|Masterlist of Stories in Bio|

The wind whips around him as he steps through the freshly fallen snow. He's been here before. Both in his real life and in dreams. He knows how this will end. The Wolveswood calls to him like it had the first time he came here. Soon he will round the corner and find the small white pup buried in the snow at the foot of the giant oak.

But this time is different. He rounds the corner and catches the scent of something familiar. Someone. His footsteps quicken, the feeling of finding someone so familiar but foreign. As he approaches the base of the tree there is not a small pup but a woman. As he drops to his knees to uncover the body it stirs, familiar eyes meeting his. The eyes of a woman he hasn't seen in six years grip his heart and make him feel as if he's suffocating.

Shawn sits upright in his bed and looks around his bedroom. His alarm is set for four in the morning and it's a quarter till. There was no going back to sleep now.

___________________

You find yourself in the kitchen of the house you grew up in. The cabinets are painted with sunflowers and daisies they way they had always been. Something is cooking on the stove but you can't smell it. Small hands grip your pants and you look down to see a little boy trying to get your attention.

“Momma. Momma.”

You pick up the child and hold him on your hip. He's adorable, dark hair and dark eyes. From behind you a door opens and you look back. There's a man walking toward you, a smile on his face. He's familiar but you can't quite sort out why. He kisses the boy's head and then yours. The moment his lips meet your temple you know who it is and your heart soars. Shawn. You've missed him.

You wake up, eyes blinking out the sleep as your bedroom comes into focus. What a strange dream. You can only assume being back in town is what has triggered it. You can't help but wonder if Shawn is actually still around.

____________________

Moving back to Brighton was not something you expected to do any time soon, but after losing your apartment due to a rent increase and losing your job due to layoffs, moving back home seemed pretty good. You parents moved away recently and left the house to you and your brother. Jeremy had no interest in moving back to Brighton, he was getting married soon, halfway across the country too.

Driving into town brings a sense of nostalgia, a taste of home. You grew up here, born and raised in the little brick house on the corner of 12th and Main Street. The tiny garden your mom put in when you were ten still grows ever vibrant under the front windows. The old oak stands tall and proud in the front yard, the swing your dad put up when you and Jeremy were toddlers is still there as well. It felt amazing to have a sense of belonging again. The city was great but it wasn't home. Never was.

You drive down Main St and notice a lot of the shops are closed up or are new businesses all together. The grocery store is still open as well as the thrift shop and the printing place. The drug store and sports shop are still there too. The old liquor store has closed up and you are glad for it. Two years ago Brighton became a dry town, no alcohol sales allowed in the town limits. It wasn't a surprise, most of the werewolf townships were going dry. Liquor lead to reckless wolves and no one needed that in this day and age. Werewolves had enough trouble with humans already. While most humans didn't mind them, there were plenty who did. A few rotten apples can sour a bunch.

The old cafe is gone but over head is a sign that reads Full Moon Brew. A small coffee place no doubt. Curiosity gets the best of you and you pull over into a parking spot along the street. The wind whips your oversized sweater around you as you head into the shop, hair a mess from the weather.

The place is warm, both visually and physically. Old wood floors and rust orange tablecloths really set the mood. Little art pieces made of tea cups and spoons hang over head on the high ceilings. They're delightful, beautiful little mobiles. There is a small line of three people as you approach the counter. Somewhere nearby you hear a child squealing, but you don't see it.

The line moves up and you see a familiar face behind the counter. Those dark chocolate curls are as unmistakable as the laugh that comes out of him. Shawn. Gods you cannot believe he's still in town and after the dream you had this morning you can't believe you're actually seeing him. It makes your heart giddy with each step you take. Never did you think he would be in your life again. His voice, heavens and earth, his voice is still just as enticing as it was when you were a teenager.

“Next,” Shawn says cooly as the man in front of you steps forward. “What can I get for you today?”

Your pulse goes wild, the thought of facing him again after six years is sending you into a fit. He's the one man you always wanted, and leaving Brighton was a mistake. Never returning before now was a mistake. Gods knew you were in love with him when you left and they know you still are now. There was no denying it. Man alive you were going to have a conniption fit right here in this line.

“Ne-” Shawn's voice falls away, a cup tumbles to the floor behind the counter and you look up from where the man in front of you has moved. His legs replaced with the dark wood of the order counter. “Hey, I thought I recognized that perfume.”

“Hey.” You lift your eyes fully, forcing them to meet Shawn's. “Long time no see yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grins. His smile put the sun to shame. Bright, gorgeous and his teeth so perfectly straight. Those fangs a bit too large to be human, but that's because he wasn't. “You look good...I can't believe you're here.”

“Same actually.”

“What can I get you? I mean, you came for coffee right? Or did you come for me? I mean that would be weird?”

You chuckle nervously as you step forward and lay your hand on the counter top. “Can I get a-”

A toddler comes into view screaming from behind him. “Daddy! Daddy! I made drink!” The small boy brandishes a tall paper cup with a mysterious substance sloshing out of it.

Your heart stops. The boy from the dream. He has the same dark hair and dark eyes. This was too weird. “Daddy?” you whisper and Shawn looks at you.

He tears his eyes away from yours and looks to the boy. “This is my son.” He kneels down and takes a sip of whatever is in that cup. Brave man. “It's great bud! Go share with Ms. Lettie?”

“Okay!”

Shawn stands up and runs his hand over his hair. “I'm so sorry. He usually doesn't run in here like that. What can I get you?”

“I...I'm just going to have a mocha.”

“It's a long story.” He says as he rings you up. You didn't ask. You didn't need to. “I can explain later but I understand if you don't want to know its-”

You're not as shocked that he has a son as you are that your dream was happening before your very eyes. You aren't sure what to say. How do you explain a dream like that to someone you haven't talked to in years? The only thing you can manage to say is far from what you mean to but it comes out nonetheless. “Did you really drink that?”

“What?”

“The cup he had. Did you actually drink it?”

Shawn chuckles. “Yeah it's just water and apple juice. He mixes his sippy cups into a paper cup. It's fine.”

“Oh.” You laugh softly and hand over a ten dollar bill for your order. “And I'd love to talk later if you're free.”

“I'll leave my number on the receipt then.”

_____________________

The moment you step outside the wind picks up again and you cling to the warm cup in your hands. It's mid November but you can swear you see snow flurries whipping by in the gusts. You turn your back to the wind and walk toward your car. It's so cold you wish you'd grabbed a jacket this morning.

“Hey! Wait!”

You turn and Shawn is walking toward you. “What? Did I leave something?”

“Yeah.” He hands you your receipt with his number on it. “I forgot to give you this.”

“Oh! Right.” You smile down at the crumpled piece of thin paper. “I guess I would have known where to find you though.”

Shawn smiles. “Meet me at the Wolveswood around five?

“Won't your wife wonder where you're at?”

“Wife?

“Yeah...or girlfriend. The boy's mom?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No it's just me. I'll explain later. Five o'clock?”

“Yes. I'll be there.”

____________________

It's just before sunset as you stroll into the Wolveswood. The white trees and dark pines create a stunning and magical aura about the place and that's because in a way it was. Every werewolf township had a Wolveswood. There was something about the trees that grew in them that provided a perfect place for the wolves to be themselves unguarded and uninhibited.

You loved coming here as a kid, though your parents strongly advised against it. Being a human in a town of wolves you had to take precautions. Now that you're older you understand that it was only because the Wolveswood was a place for the residents to run free and you were not a wolf. Though the  only times you entered was with Shawn and he would never let anything happen to you.

You head toward the massive oak that sits in the middle of the woods. It's a sprawling work of nature and is the most sacred tree in the Wolveswood. You have countless memories of this place. Most of which involved Shawn and the two of you hanging out after school. A stick breaks behind you and you see Shawn heading towards you in a dark navy sweater. The little boy from the shop is by his side, running ahead to jump on the sticks and snap them.

“You came,” Shawn smiles as he stops before you. “I was worried you might be weirded out by my son.”

“No not at all. I'm curious more than anything.”

Shawn leads you to the trunk of the tree and sits on one of it's massive exposed roots curving up out of the ground. “Well. It all started right here.”

“Like...”

“I found him here, lying abandoned in the snow two years ago almost. He didn't shift into a human for weeks. I had to fight the council to keep him.” Shawn chuckles and watches the boy chase a cardinal nearby. “I didn't know his name, I didn't even know if he knew his name. He didn't speak much, not even babble when he shifted.”

“Wow, he was just left out here?”

“Yeah. We tried everything to find out who his parents were but we can only assume it was a wandering pack or maybe some loners or something. Why they left him behind I can't fathom.”

“What's his name?”

“Myles, but he answers to Pup usually.”

You lower yourself onto the cold dirt and wave at Myles. “Hey pup, hello.”

Myles ducks behind Shawn and hides with his back to the root that Shawn's sitting on. You lean over to try and see him but he must be really curled into the trunk.

“He’s shy.” Shawn reaches back and rubs Myles’ hair. “I want to enroll him in preschool soon but I can't afford anywhere around here and the closest public place is two towns over.”

“What about the library?”

“Expensive. It's a private program.”

“But I'm starting work there next week. I can take him. Employees get free child care. No one is going to ask if he's mine if I bring in his documents.”

Shawn's face lights up. “You would do that? I mean you don't have to. I'll sort something out.” He shakes his head. “No I can't have you do that. I'll just home school him.”

You stand and lay your hand on Shawn's shoulder and he covers it with his own. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Of course I would.” He chuckles. “You know, I missed you. I missed my best friend. Why did we ever split up?”

“I missed you too Shawn, and we split because I wanted  to see the world. But the world ended up being an apartment in the city and two part time jobs to get myself through community college. It wasn't worth it.”

“We all make mistakes.” He stands and his hand finds yours. “It's how we learn from them is what matters.”

“What did I learn?”

“That the grass isn't greener on the other side. Now, can I take you to dinner?”

“I'd love to go.”

Myles comes out from behind the root and grabs Shawn's free hand. “I'm hungry too dad.”

Shawn grabs him and hauls him up on his shoulders. “Wanna get a grilled cheese, bud?”

“Yeah!”

____________________

Dinner goes well. You and Shawn catch up on the last six years and discuss how things have been aside from the obvious. It feels like you never left. Being with Shawn feels as natural as if you had just been gone for a few days and came back home. Myles keeps to himself, eyeing you from time to time. He's adorable, all big eyes and big teeth as he puts away a grilled cheese and two plates of sweet potato fries. He could be Shawn's son, if he hadn't told you the truth you would have guessed he was his biologically.

“You're not a wolf.”

You and Shawn halt mid conversation to look at the boy who is leaning with his chin on his arms, staring at you. “What's that bud?”

Myles is silent.

“Pup, it's okay if she's not a wolf.” Shawn rubs his back and he sighs heavily.

“Smells funny.”

“Myles James please don't say that to people.” Shawn looks to you. “You don't smell funny. You smell amazing and I love your perfume.”

“He hasn't been around a lot of humans has he?” You ask, smiling at the two of them. This was amusing.

“No. Mostly the work clientele are wolves from town. You probably smell strange to him because you were in the city for so long. There's a difference between here and there.”

“I smell like city pollution?”

“No, no oh my god. Well maybe? I don't know. A few days in town and you'll be right as rain. I think it's time to head home. Someone needs to go to bed soon.”

____________________

The next few days you stop by the coffee shop and chat with Shawn a while before work. He's so cute when he's got his sleeves rolled up, whip cream smeared across his cheek and hair curly and a mess from the steam of the espresso machines. On the fourth day you come in, Myles is standing at the end of the counter waiting for you.

“Good morning pup,” you smile and wave at him. “How are you today?”

“Can I see your teeth?”

“My teeth?” You glance up at Shawn and he just sighs. “What for?”

“Because.” He bares his little teeth at you and you raise your eyebrows.

“Pup. Leave her alone.” Shawn sighs heavily as he makes your usual mocha with extra cream.

You grin big and show the small boy your teeth. He just squints and then nods. “Do I have teeth?” You ask with a giggle.

“Yes. Good.” And with that Myles just turns and goes back to his play area at the corner of the shop.

You stand up and Shawn passes you your drink. “I'm sorry. He had a nightmare last night and I guess all his teeth fell out. He asked me about mine this morning but he's always asking weird stuff so I didn't think about it.”

“I don't mind. He's curious. I'm just happy he talked to me.” You look over at the play area and Myles is coloring something on a little table.

Shawn smiles big and shakes his head. “He's something. Hey, do you want to go out tonight? My mom is available to babysit if you want.”

“Sure. I'd love some one on one time with you.”

“It's a date then. I'll pick you up at six?”

“I'll be there.”

____________________

A date with Shawn is just what you need. The two of you walking hand in hand through the park is just like old times. You don't feel so stressed like you had in the city. It's wonderful.

“So, a coffee shop huh?” You ask, breaking a silence that was comfortable but getting to be too much.

“Yeah. It's a funny story. Lettie needed help for the summer after you left. I wasn't going to stay for long, hell, I wanted to get out of here too. Everything reminded me of you.” Shawn swings your joined hands. “I found that I really enjoyed making drinks and creating things. I also discovered I loved cooking too. Lettie taught me everything. One summer turned into a year and then another year. Pretty soon I was running the place and Lettie retired.”

“But Lettie is still there?”

“She comes in now and again and she'll pick up a shift or two sometimes. It's just hard on her to work forty plus hours anymore.”

You stop and the two of you sit on a bench. “Why did you adopt Myles? You said you fought for him. Why?”

“Something inside me knew he was meant to be mine.” He looks down and fidgets his hands in his lap. “The way he looked at me, he reminded me of you. I can't explain it honestly, but there was something in that kid that was so very like you. I loved him the second I lifted his tiny form out of the snow.”

“You never thought you'd see me again did you?”

Shawn looks over and there's tears in his eyes and his lip trembles as he speaks. “No. No I didn't.”

You feel your chest cease up and tears blur your vision. You reach for Shawn's hand. “I'm so sorry.”

Shawn squeezes your hand tightly. “I figured six years was a sure thing. You were never coming back. Then you walk in the shop out of nowhere, and it was the most incredible moment when I saw you. I went home that night after our dinner and I had to make sure I was actually awake.”

“I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ever left. I know you said I was your mate and-”

“You are. You still are.”

“And I didn't understand that then. I didn't really grasp what it meant. I thought it meant I'd be trapped here forever. But I think I do understand now. I think. I have an idea anyway.”

Shawn brings your hand up to kiss it and then leans over, cupping your cheek to kiss your lips softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

_____________________

Friday morning you walk into the coffee shop and it's a little early, Shawn must have just unlocked the door when he got in because the closed sign is still up and the lights are still off. There's a radio blaring from behind the counter and you can hear someone shouting along in the backroom.

Sure enough Shawn appears, backing through the swinging door with an arm full of a sack of beans to be roasted. He's shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Marry me Juliet you'll never have to be alone! I love you and that's all I really know!”  

You grin as you approach the counter and watch him sing and dance along to the song. The two of you listened to that one all the time in highschool. He had even requested it at prom for you.

“Good morning.” You say softly and Shawn jumps, turning and flushing bright pink.

“Hey...you didn't see that did you?”

“Oh I got the whole performance. You're quite good, even for yelling the lyrics.”

“I couldn't help myself. It was our song. Remember?”

You laugh and walk around behind the counter to meet him. “Of course I remember. How could I ever forget?” You put yours arms around his middle and hug him. “I still listen to it sometimes too.”

Shawn holds you close and rests his chin on your head. “Are you still planning on taking Myles today?”

“Mmhmm. He's registered for the kids care, all I gotta do is bring him in.”

“Dad! Dad! I need juice!”

“Speaking of which, there he is.”

Myles comes wandering through the back room door. He holds his cup up and Shawn goes for the fridge to get a carton of juice for him.

“Are you excited for daycare today bud?” You ask as you squat down to his height. “You get to play with other little wolves. Does that sound fun?”

“Can I color?”

“Yep. And you get lunch, and music time and story time.”

“Dad?”

Shawn turns and looks down at his son. “Yes pup?”

“Can I go?”

“Yep. That's the plan.”

Myles takes his cup from Shawn and chews on the spout. “Okay. We can go now.”

“I'll lock up real quick. I want to take him in on his first day.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I should go with. He might have a hard time."

____________________

Daycare goes off without a hitch. Myles was shy at first but he opened up quickly. As soon as he realized he got to do all his favorite things with other little kids, it was like something switched on inside of him. That social pack mentality kicked in and he was ready to go.

For the first few days you went and checked on him every couple hours. There is a door with a half window that you could go and peek through to see the care room. He looked so happy, so energetic.

Until. The incident. One week into kids care and you're called away from the story time event in the library. Lena brings you to the little time out room, an old office, in the back of the daycare.

"Myles, do you wanna tell her what happened?" Lena, his co-teacher says as she closes the door.

"No."

"Should I tell her?"

Myles curls up where he's sitting on the pillow in the corner. "No!"

"Lena, let me talk to him." You say softly and Lena steps out. You're nervous. Myles isn't actually your kid, you have no place reprimanding him for whatever happened. "Pup?"

"No. Nononono."

You take a seat beside him and lean against the wall. "What happened? I thought you were having a good day? Sha- Dad made you pancakes and everything this morning."

"I bit Jacob." He whispers, sniffling and looking over at you. "We were playing!"

"Oh," you try not to chuckle. You thought this would be much more serious. "Did you say sorry?"

"Yeah."

"Why are you upset?"

Myles huffs. "Because I didn't want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because then Dad will make me come home."

You reach over and rub up and down his back. "I don't think Dad will make you come home for biting. You said you were playing?"

"Uh huh."

"And you got carried away and you said sorry?"

"Uh huh."

You run your hand over his hair and he falls sideways on his pillow. "No more biting okay?"

"Mmhmm." He sniffs. "Promise Dad won't make me stay home?"

"I promise. Let's get you back out there okay?"

"Okay."

_____________________

A few days after the biting incident Shawn decides to take Myles out into the wood for a run. It'll be his first one and he thinks maybe he's ready. If he's play fighting at school he's most likely ready to go out. Shawn invites you along and the three of you head for the Wolveswood.

"Are you excited pup?" You ask of the boy on your shoulders. "You and Dad get to run in the woods today!"

"You too!" Myles cheers and plays with your hair. "You gotta run too."

Shawn stops at the large oak tree and you set Myles down. "She doesn't shift, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Is she leaving?"

Shawn squats down and smiles. "She will still be here. You'll see bud, it'll be fun."

You take a seat on a root and watch as Shawn and Myles shift into their wolf forms. Shawn is pretty big, bigger than you remember and Myles is small like a couple months old puppy. He was small for his age so you're not surprised. The contrast between the two is alarming.

Shawn walks forward, nudging Myles toward you and he stumbles a bit. You reach out and pet Myles' head and he jumps into your lap.

"Hey bud," you pet his head again and he rolls onto your lap. "I don't think your dad wants you to lay on me."

Shawn paces and sits at the edge of the path. You set Myles down and he runs over to Shawn. You follow the two into the dense trees and it reminds you of when you would come here with Shawn when you were younger. The two of you spent hours with each other in these trees.

The two run along and you just enjoy the wilderness. It's just how you remember it being. The trees are all baren now, and the leaves cover the ground in beautiful orange and brown hues. Six years ago you left this place. How could you have been so stupid.  

You feel something bump your back and you turn around to see Shawn. He has Myles at his side and you rub his ear softly. "What's up?"

Shawn bumps you harder and you stumble back. He does it again and you tumble into some leaves.

"Hey!" You brush leaves off your hair and Myles runs over, pouncing in the leaves around you. "What was that for?"

Shawn stalks towards you and Myles jumps in front of him, growling his hardest. You raise your eyebrows. Myles howls loudly.  

Shawn shifts and stands before you and the pup. "Looks like someone is protective."

You put your hand out for him and he pulls you up. Myles runs off and hops around in the leaves nearby. "He reminds me of you."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Remember when we'd come out here with friends and you'd all shift?" You smile and shake your head. "You would never let anyone near me."

"Well that's because I had to keep you safe." He tucks some of your hair back as the wind picks up and blows it around. "Some of our friends were assholes."

"Yeah but no one would have hurt me."

"Accidents happen with young rambunctious wolves."

You smile softly and lean your head on his shoulder. "Yeah. You were always super cautious though." You loop your arm around his and he takes your hand.

"Do you think Myles is okay? Like I'm doing okay?"

"What? You're doing great. He's healthy and smart. He's not very big I'll admit but he was small when you found him right?"

"He was so tiny. Definitely the runt. It makes me sad to know he was possibly abandoned because he was so small they didn't think he'd survive."

You smile as Myles makes his way back toward you and Shawn. He looks delighted, like he's having the best time. "He's adorable."

"He likes you." Shawn says kissing your temple. "He knows that we're mates and he really looks up to you."

"He knows?"

"Hes a wolf. He can tell when others are taken. He might not understand it yet, I don't know, but he can definitely tell."

"I'm really glad I came back."

Shawn squeezes your side. "You can't imagine how I feel."

"I'm sure I can." You lay your head against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. "But I don't want to. I'm so sorry I put you through that loneliness."

"It's okay." He kisses your head. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

_____________________

It's a Monday when you and Myles head out of the Library front doors and see a woman sitting on the tree box. It's not unusual to see people sitting on the wood frame while waiting for someone or a ride or something. But there was something off about this woman. She put that sense of uneasiness in your heart, the way one might get when they experience something terrible. You guide Myles away from the tree and toward the sidewalk, hand firm in his.

"What's wrong?" He asks softly as you pick up the pace. Smart boy.

"Nothing Pup. I just want to see your dad."

"But you see him all the time."

You stop and pick Myles up and set him on your hip. He's heavy but not too bad. "I miss him is all. It was a long day."

"Yeah. It was." He sighs and lays his head on your shoulder. "Alpapabet is hard."

"Mmhmm." You murmur and hold his head against your shoulder. You can still feel the woman staring at you, but you will not look back and verify the feeling.

The walk to the coffee shop is long and exhausting with Myles on your hip. You don't want to put him down, something in you says to keep him as close as possible until you're with Shawn. The bell chimes over the door and you're glad to see the seating area is empty at the moment. It's nearly closing time, being late after noon, people aren't exactly flocking for coffee.

"Hey, how was school?" Shawn says, tossing a dish rag aside and walking out from behind the counter. "What's...?" You shake your head to cut him off.

You set Myles down and he begins to babble about his class and what he did all day. You take a seat and look out the window to see if the woman followed you.

Shawn sits across from you, having taken Myles to the play area behind the counter. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. There was a woman outside the library and she made me uncomfortable. It's nothing, I just got a weird feeling."

"Was she saying anything? Did she approach you?"

You shake your head. "No. She just stared at me and Myles. It was weird, like I said, I was uncomfortable."

Shawn reaches across and takes your hands in his. "It's okay. Don't feel bad for trusting your instincts."

"No, I don't. I just hope Myles isn't uncomfortable."

"I don't think he is." He looks over at the small boy in the play area with his power rangers. "He seemed normal. Trust me, he will tell me if something is wrong. He has no filter. If something comes up again let me know?"

"Of course." You squeeze Shawn's hands. "I promise."

_____________________

You and Shawn go out on a date Saturday night, his mom has Myles again. Shawn hasn't seemed himself all week since the incident with the woman. You don't think that's what is really bothering him, as he hasn't said anything at all. Something is on his mind though and you can read him like a book as he picks at his dinner unenthusiastically. It's unlike him not to eat.

"So, what's going on?" You say nonchalantly.

"Hmm? Why do you mean?"

"You're not eating. You've hardly said a word."

"Sorry." He sits up in his chair and looks at you. "I'm just thinking about work."

"Work?"

"Yeah. I've got some things to sort out. It's fine."

You reach over and rub his forearm. "Talk to me. I'm here for you."

Shawn takes a deep breath. "The shop isn't doing so great lately and I need to find a way to make extra income because just selling coffee for ten hours a day and only making the gross majority of my profit in the morning, isn't working out."

You nod. "I see. What have you come up with?"

"Food? But I'd need to sink more money into expenditures to get food to make that."

"Mmm. What if you do something simple? Two sandwiches and a soup offering? Bakery goods? Could you partner with another shop in town?"

"I could do simple items, things I can get in bulk for pretty cheap. Or buy baked goods in bulk for cheap and resell for a small margin."

"What about breakfast?"

"Pancake mix I can stretch, and eggs aren't too expensive." Shawn runs his hand over his hair. "I've got some in savings for Myles, just for like in case he needs something but I can use a little."

You lean your chin on your hand. "I can bring my parents patio set over to the shop and we can set it up out front for outdoor seating."

"Really? They've got that nice black set right?"

"Mmmhmm. They left it with the house and I am never going to use it. I can even help you prep if you need in the morning."

Shawn smiles big. "I could offer WiFi at the shop too?"

"You could, but remember that's another bill."

"Yeah, true but I think I could make it work. Maybe charge a bit for the WiFi?"

"You could. Or maybe bring in some live music? In the afternoons?"

Shawn nods and smiles slightly. "That'd be good, I could charge a small fee to set up. It'd definitely bring people in I think."

"Alright, then you have a plan." You steal a fry off his dinner plate. "You better eat now before I take it all."

Shawn slides his plate away from you. "I will eat. You're just as bad as Myles."

"Am not."

He grins. "You're right, he's worse because he is as bad as his Dad."

You roll your eyes. "You are terrible when it comes to food theft."

Shawn holds a fry up for you. "But I'll share. A good alpha cares for his mate."

"Stopppp," you groan and take the fry. "No mate talk right now."

"Save it for the bedroom?"

"Shawn!"

He cackles and you drop your head into your arms on the table. "Hey," he reaches over and scratches your head. "Don't be so shy. It's okay to be mated and talk about it."

"I know. It's just so much to think about still. We haven't taken the time to discuss it. I think I understand but y'know, I'll probably never fully understand."

"I'll help."

"I know. It's only been a few weeks...a month? Shit. I'm still processing my move and seeing you again and Myles. Everything has happened so fast. Don't get me wrong, I love that you're here and I love Myles a lot even though we've just met. I'm happy but I'm just a little overwhelmed, or maybe I'm overthinking."

Shawn takes your hand and squeezes your fingers together gently. "Take your time. No one is rushing you into anything. I'm here no matter what you decide to do."

"I'm not leaving, if you're wondering about that."

"I've wondered yeah."

"No, I'm home again, for good."

"Good because I'm not too keen on letting you go again."

___________________

Laying in bed with Shawn, staring at the ceiling, it feels like the last six years never happened. The man beside you is out cold, arm up over his head, jaw slack. He's so beautiful when he's like this. Relaxed, innocent, not a care in the world. You swallow hard and sigh heavily. You hate feeling like this, like everything is just going too well.

"What's wrong?" Shawn asks and breaks the silence. He shouldn't even be awake.

"I thought you were passed out."

"I was. I felt your heartbeat quicken and woke up."

"Oh."

Shawn rolls onto his side and slides his hand up your bare stomach to tuck it around your rib cage. "Have you slept?"

"A little."

"Is your brain too loud?" He yawns. "Anxiety?"

You pause. He remembers that you have anxiety. Of course he does. "Yeah, I'm just in my head."

He noses at your neck gently, gives you a little kiss and a soft lick. He's always done this. His affection has always been a little different than any other guy you've known. "Talk to me."

"There's nothing to discuss. It's just me, just my head. I'm overthinking everything and you know how it is."

"Let's get up." Shawn pushes up so he's leaning over you. "We'll get some water, have a snack or something."

"Alright. I'll try anything."

Half an hour later you're in the living room of Shawn's apartment, legs tucked up under you while the tv plays silently across from you. It's some early 2000s sitcom rerun that plays late at night on the lower cable channels. You're not paying much mind to it.

"Here, an adult lunchable." Shawn says, placing a plate with crackers, cheese slices and ham cubes on your lap.

You can't help but crack a smile. "Adult lunchable huh?"

"Yeah." He sits beside you and pulls the blanket off the back of the couch. "You heard me."

You pick up a cracker and a cheese with the ham and pop it in your mouth. It's good. Really good actually, the cheese is strong and you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

"Aged swiss. I got it at the farmers market last week. It's so good." He grabs a combo of food from the plate and eats it.

"When did you get so fancy?"

"Sometimes you just gotta treat yourself. Besides, I thought you might like it too."

You giggle a bit and shake your head. "You're something else Shawn."

"I am." He curls his lip up to reveal his fangs. "That's not news though."

"Not like that you goofba-" A loud banging stops you dead mid sentence. It's almost three in the morning. Who the hell is knocking on a door? Or trying to break it down.

Shawn stands and goes to the window that overlooks the street below. The apartment is above the coffee shop, so there aren't any neighbors. "I can't see anyone."

"Maybe something fell in the shop?"

"No, that was a forced banging. I'm going down." Shawn grabs his jacket from beside the door and you jump up, setting the plate of food aside.

"What if someone is down there?"

"I'll kick their ass?" Shawn opens the door and you grab his arm. "Honey, I'm not going to let someone break into my shop and ruin my whole lively hood."

"Call the police."

"No time. I need to see what is going on."

"What if-" The sound of breaking glass makes you jump and let out a little scream.

Shawn runs down the stairs and you grip the railing to the lower door tightly. He disappears outside and you remain frozen, eyes trained on the doorway.

Five minutes or so tick by so slowly until he reappears. "What is it?"

"I have no idea." Shawn motions for you to come downstairs. "The window looks like it just fell out of the doorframe to the shop."

You follow Shawn outside and to the shop door. Sure enough there is absolutely no glass left in the frame. It's like he said, the glass just fell out and broke. "That's weird. What about the banging?"

"I'm not sure. The door is locked." He pulls his keys from his jacket pocket and unlocks the shop. "Stay here while I go inside."

You grip your phone in your pocket and wait for him to give you an all clear. A moment later he returns, the lights flickering on in the shop reveals nothing out of place. It just looks like the shop at closing time.

"This is wild, I can't tell what made the banging. That absolutely sounded like someone at the door."

"It did. I don't know. Maybe someone was trying to get help and then the glass popped out and scared them off?"

Shawn scrubs his hand over his face. "Yeah, maybe. I can't even tell if it was a wolf, there are too many lingering scents here."

"Let's clean up."

"I'll clean up. You go on up to the house. Try to sleep if you can."

You wrap your arms around yourself, his sweatshirt so warm against your skin. "I'm not tired anymore."

Shawn walks around a nearby table and cups your face in his hands. "Please? You haven't slept. I know you don't work tomorrow, but you need rest."

"But..."

"No buts." He kisses you softly. "Go upstairs."

You lay your hands on his chest. "Come get me if you need me."

"Yes darling."

_____________________

You wake up sometime later, not remembering falling asleep. Your body must have been at it's limit. The light is dim shining in the window, likely a storm blowing in. Maybe it'll snow. You stretch out and your am collides with something soft.

You lift the blankets and find Myles curled up on Shawn's side of the bed. He's asleep, clutching his stuffed sea otter that he got at the zoo. He's told you the story about a hundred times in the last several weeks as small children do. Clearly it's very important to him. Shawn must have picked him up from his parents place before opening the shop.

The bedroom smells like coffee and you take a deep breath. It's so good. Rich and bright smelling with hints of hazelnut. You're such a sucker for coffee, Shawn really chose the perfect profession. You sit up and run your hand over your hair. Should you wake Myles up? No. Let him sleep.

Moving to get up you freeze, a little hand curling around your forearm. You look back and see Myles awake. He rubs his nose into the pillow.

"Good morning Pup."

"Mmmrning."

"I see you found me in Dad's bed."

Myles nods.

"Does Dad know you're in here?"

He giggles and shakes his head.

You run your hand over his hair. "It'll be our secr-"

Shawn walks in the open doorway and gasps playfully. "What is this? Have you stolen my mate?!"

Myles cackles and buries himself down in the bedding.

You laugh and Shawn leans down and kisses your forehead. "Good morning Shawn."

"Morning Honey." He tugs the blankets back to expose Myles. "I see I have a rouge pup in my bed, loving my mate up."

"Daddd! I was snugbulling!" Myles crawls over to your lap and lays his head on your thigh. "Momma's warm."

Your eyes go wide. Shawn must pick up on the way your heart stops because he lifts Myles off your lap and carries him over to the other side of the room. You can hear him say something to the boy but you can't make it out he is speaking so low. You remember your dream, the one from the day you found Shawn again. The one with the boy calling you Momma.

"Shawn?" You call out.

He turns and looks over to you, startled at the loudness of your voice. "Yes?"

"It's okay." You stand up and cross the room and put your arms out for Myles. "He can snuggle."

Shawn raises his eyebrows. "He can?"

"Yeah." You pet back Myles' mop of dark hair and he lays his head on your shoulder. "It'll be easier to start now."

"Are you ready for that? I thought you were still sorting things out?"

"I can't let myself wait to figure it out. I just have to do it, to be here and be in this." You kiss Myles' head. "I need to be a mate."

Shawn steps close and pulls you in, sandwiching Myles between the two of you. He presses a kiss to your head and whispers, "I love you."

"I love you, Shawn."

"I love you too Dad." Myles mumbles and blows a kiss. You both chuckle at him and he wiggles to be set down. "Breakfast Dad." He grabs Shawn's hand and you take the other one, fingers intertwining.

______________________

Another Monday comes following the really great weekend of staying at Shawn's place. You're sitting in the back office of the library getting books sorted that have been damaged. You're taking logs to make sure and order new ones of them. Your coworker Brenda who works the front desk walks in and closes the door behind her, making you look up from your work curiously because the door always stays open.

"Is Myles adopted?"

"Um, y-yeah?" You swallow thickly. Had someone found out he wasn't your son? It wasn't a big deal, but maybe it was. "Why?"

"Well, there was someone here asking to pick up a child early. She wouldn't give me a name but said his adopted mother worked here. I know you're not a wolf, so I thought maybe Myles was adopted and she was asking for him?"

You stand up and knock over your stack of books. "Is she still here? "

"No. She left when I told her she would need to bring a note of approval of absence from a parent."

You wrap your arms around yourself. "Do you have security camera access?"

"Yes of course." Brenda nods. "Do you need something?"

"I want to see the video footage of the woman who came in. Please?"

Brenda opens the door and waves you to follow. "Come on, I'll show you. Obviously you're concerned."

"Of course I am." You follow her down the hall. "If that woman was here for Myles then I need to know. No one should come for him besides myself, Shawn and Karen, Shawn's Mom. I'm going to assume it was not Karen."

"She would know his name, right?"

"Exactly."

____________________

After viewing the footage you call Shawn. The woman was the same one from the other day outside the library. The one who made you uncomfortable. The phone rings and rings. Shawn probably has it on the charger in the storage room. You click to hang up and go to Brenda.

"Can you put a note in Myles' file that no one is allowed to pick him up but Shawn or myself?"

"Of course. Is something going on? Do you think that woman was really here for Myles?"

"Yeah, maybe. Even if she wasn't, that behavior is extremely fishy. Can we ban her?"

Brenda nods and holds up a printed copy of a screengrab from her computer of the footage. "I'm already on it."

You nod. "Good. I'm going to finish my ordering. Let me know if anything else comes up."

____________________

As soon as you get to the shop with Myles and work you tell Shawn what happened, and how the woman was the same one that made you uneasy. Shawn closes up early and locks the front door. He's not happy, it's quite obvious.

"Does Myles know?" He asks as he sinks into the corner booth where you're sitting with a cup of tea he made for you.

"No, he doesn't. Brenda wasn't going to let him out of the care room under any circumstances. She didn't even know for sure if it was Myles she was asking for. The woman didn't know his name."

"Good." Shawn runs his hand over his hair and tugs. "You're absolutely sure this was the same woman?"

"Yes Shawn. I'm a thousand percent sure. I knew something was up, I just didn't know what. Why would someone try to take Myles?"

"I don't know." He looks to his son in the corner as he stages a little cafe with his power ranger toys and pretends to take an order. "I've had him for almost three years now. He'll be five, or what I assume is five, honestly we have no idea how old he is but developmentally he is almost five."

"His birthday is coming up?"

"Yeah. I found him just before New year's, out there in the snow."

"So that's his birthday?"

Shawn nods. "Mmhmm. The day I found him is his birthday. But that aside, I've had him this long and I've never had any problems. No one has ever come for him, or showed up looking for him."

"Maybe that woman is related?" You stir your tea and chew your lip nervously. "Maybe she has been looking for him."

"I've been afraid of that, but I figured that three years passed, no one would come back. Then again I thought six years was a sure thing you weren't coming back but here you are." Shawn lets out a heavy sigh that borders on a growl. "Fuck."

You reach across and grab his hand on the table. "Shawn, it's up to you what you want to do. You're Myles' father. If this woman is his mom, or his Grandma or related in someway, it's up to you if you want him to meet them. They left him, abandoned him to die in the Wolveswood years ago. They have no claim to him at all."

"I know. I'm torn. What if this woman can tell me something about him? What if I should know something?"

"I think in three years you would have found out if there was anything wrong with him. He's been to the doctor right?"

"Yes of course. Every six months he has his check ups and he's gotten everything he needs to be healthy. I even take him to the dentist twice a year to make sure his teeth aren't coming in wrong."

"Then he is fine. If that woman shows up again, then you can speak with her. Or if you don't want to do that, simply tell her to leave."

Shawn nods. "Yeah, I don't want to confuse Myles. I'll tell her to leave us alone."

"Sounds good."

"I do want to keep Myles here tomorrow. I'd just feel better if he was close, in case that woman comes back to the library."

"I'll let Lena know he'll be out." You bring Shawn's hand up and kiss it softly. "You're doing your best, don't stress."

"I know." He smiles tiredly. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

______________________

Shawn keeps Myles home the next day. He has Lettie run the shop while he gives his son a really good day together. They go out for breakfast, go to the park, watch the geese at the lake, make lunch together. He makes sure Myles knows he is loved, not that he would really doubt it. Shawn gives everything he has and more to the child.

Wednesday rolls around and you have a day off since you're picking up a co-worker's Saturday shift. You decide to hang out with Shawn, learn a little bit about coffee and drink making. It's slow in the shop. Myles is down for a nap, Shawn having kept him home again since you wouldn't be at the library.

"So you wanna make drinks?" Shawn says sing songy and grabs a cup off the stack by the registers. "You wanna know my secrets?"

You giggle. "Share your sage advice oh wise barista."

"First you start with the bean!" Shawn grabs a handful of beans ready to go in the roaster. "THE MASTER OF ALL!"

You roll your eyes and let out a reluctant chuckle at his antics. "My god you're ridiculous."

"Maybe. But maybe I'm the bean whisperer. How bout that?"

You grab the cup from him and go to the coffee tanks. "Enough bean master, let's get to the mixy mixy."

Shawn chuckles to himself and steps up behind you. "Start with your brew strength." He points out each tank labeled with blonde, medium, dark roasts. "Then choose your flavors or sweeteners."

You pour out a dark roast cup. "I want caramel."

"This way, Honey." He says, going over to a little tiered set up on the back counter of pumps of flavouring. "Toasted caramel? Salted caramel?"

"Which is sweeter?"

"Toasted."

You lift the cup to the pump and out your palm over the spout. "How many?"

"Well, do you want the coffee to be lightly flavored or," He presses his nose into your hair and grabs your hips. "Extra sweet."

"Shawn," you giggle and he sways your hips in time with his. "Quit it."

"I can't help it." He wraps his arms around you. "I'm in one of my moods."

You pump down two squirts of the caramel and set the coffee down, eyes scanning for a stir stick. "Your moods huh?"

"Yeah." He slides a hand up your shirt and you slap your hand down against it to stop him. "We are in the shop Shawn!"

Shawn kisses along your neck and you can't help but shiver. "We've had fun in much worse places haven't we?"

"Shawn. Please, someone could walk in."

He lets out a growl and peels himself away from you. "Alright, fine. You ruin my fun."

You hold your cup up. "Maybe I have to because you have alpha brain right now and you just want to fuck and I want to learn how to make a caramel cream coffee."

"Yes darling." He shows you to the milk machine. "Alright so this is where we steak the milk. Please be careful."

You turn on the machine and wait as it bubbles inside. "Okay, when?"

"Hold on now." Shawn grabs a metal cup with a handle and gets under the bar to get a carton of milk. "We have to get the milk first."

"Oh. It's not in there?"

"No. It's going to just heat it." Shawn kisses your cheek. "Let me do it the first time okay?"

You step aside and he pours out the milk to a notch in the metal cup. He puts the cup up onto the spigot and flips it on. The machine bubbles and the milk gurgles in the cup. "That looks easy?"

"It's hot."

"You're hot." You smirk and Shawn gives you a warning look. You know you shouldn't tease him when he's already in a mood.

"Your milk." He pours it into your cup and stirs with a stir stick from a cup on top of the machine.

You lift the cup and take a sip. It's good. Not exactly what you wanted, but it's good nonetheless. "Should we check on Myles?"

Shawn nods. "He should be woken up. It's almost time for lunch."

"I'll go get him." You offer, setting aside your coffee. "You should watch the shop."

"I better not come up there and find you snuggled up if you don't return."

"But what if he wants snuggled? Shouldn't the baby boy be snuggled?"

Shawn rolls his eyes. "Five minutes. Don't spoil him."

"Oh he is already spoiled."

"Yeah," Shawn chuckles. "He is."

____________________

You walk into Myles' small bedroom and see him sleeping on his little toddler bed. It's precious, completely space themed with the bed being a rocketship. Shawn truly spoils this child rotten. You kneel beside the bed and lay your hand on his back, rocking him gently to wake him up.

"Pup, it's time to wake up now."

The moment your voice reaches his ears he jumps, small body jerking with incredible force as he presses himself to the wall. There is terror in his eyes for a flash of a second before he registers who you are.

"Myles are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?"

He crawls and begins to cry, arms wrapping around you as he clambors forward. You hold him, pulling him off the bed and into your lap as you take a seat on the floor more comfortably. He shakes, fingers curled tight in your shirt.

You rub his back and he continues his soft crying. "Tell me about it?"

"I was in the forest and Dad was gone and uh, uh a lady says I should go with her." He wipes his nose on your shoulder. "But but Dad said no because I don't know her that I don't do that. So I said no! and she got mad."

"Oh." You swallow hard, worried this dream could be connected to the woman who keeps appearing. "Did anything else happen?"

"No. I woked up and I thinked you were the lady."

"Oh bud, I'm sorry I scared you."

Myles releases you and sits on the floor in front of you. "It's okay Momma."

Your heart clenches. You won't get used to that name anytime soon. "Let's go see Dad. He probably has some lunch for you, or maybe we can get some."

"Oh good. I'm starving." Myles says matter of fact and goes to his bedroom door.

You follow after and he takes your hand as you go down the stairs to the door outside. It's busy, the shops across the street having people coming and going. You spot a woman on the bench across from the shop, opposite side of the street in front of the hardware store. It's her. You pick Myles up and he hugs you tightly. Your heart races and you stare at her, memorizing her face, hoping she is looking at you and understanding she is not welcome.

When you get into the shop it's busy and Shawn is rushing around behind the counter. The line is six deep. You carry Myles around behind the counter and into the storage room. Shawn gives you a look but you shake your head.

You wait until the line goes down and Shawn has a free moment to call him over to the backroom. He doesn't need much encouragement, he is on his way the second he realizes he is free.

"What is going on?" Shawn asks under his breath.

"Myles had a dream about the woman and she was across the street on a bench. I think she's stalking him."

Shawn sneers, flashing his teeth in a rare threatened alpha moment. His eyes go to the doors of the shop, scan across the windows to see anyone outside. "What does she look like?"

"My height, brown hair, quite a bit older than us. Maybe early forties? Or maybe time wasn't kind, but she is white and has on a brown sweater and-"

Shawn stalks across the shop and opens the door, going out and leaving you speechless.

"Daddy's mad." Myles mumbles and grabs your fingers. "Is he okay?"

"Yes pup. He is unhappy with someone outside."

"Can I have juice?"

You look around. "Where does Dad keep your cups?"

"Here." He walks over and pats a cupboard door under the register. "Juice is in the refridgermater."

You eye the front doors as you retrieve the juice for Myles. You don't want him to worry, but you're sure he already senses your anxiety rising.

A hand lands on your leg and you look down at Myles. He wraps his arms around your thigh. "It's okay Momma."

You clench your jaw and hold back your emotions. The boy is so sweet and so sensitive. You squat down and hand him his cup. "It's okay, I know. How bout we go see what Mr. Red ranger has ordered today?"

Myles smiles big and hurries off to the backroom where his toys are laying by a storage shelf.

The door jingles upon opening and you look over to see Shawn walking in. He's not much happier than he was before he went out. His teeth are still prominent, eyes wild. You're going to assume he has not found the woman.

"I don't like this." Shawn growls. "I don't play games and not with our son at risk."

"Our son."

"Yes that's what I said, I-" He stops and realizes the weight of his words. "My son. Our son? He calls you Momma so-"

"It's okay." You lay your hand on Shawn's shoulder. "He's our son."

"Yeah, he is. No one is going to take him."

"Over my dead body. She was gone wasn't she?"

"Yes. She was completely gone. I just want to talk to her, to find out what her problem is. We assume it's Myles, but maybe it's not?"

"You think she's after me?"

Shawn shrugs. "I don't know. She hasn't seen me as far as we know, and she's only come to your work until now. Maybe she needs to see you?"

"No, it's Myles. It has to be. He dreamed about her, there is something going on I just don't know what."

"Next time we see her, we will approach her."

"Absoultely. As long as I don't have Myles with me. I'm not risking her snatching him or something."

Shawn shakes his head. "No of course not. I have a feeling she will be back though. I'll take care of it."

_____________________

The next few days are quiet, not much going on at work or at the coffee shop. You have dinner with Shawn and Myles one night, go see a movie at the drive in another night. Life feels normal and good until you get home one evening and something isn't right.

It starts on your drive home. You turn the radio off while you think about the woman that has been appearing. You're not sure what has gotten you thinking about her, but something has. It bothers you. Why didn't she approach you? Why didn't she talk to you? What was her motive? It all points to Myles. She must be related somehow. Maybe she doesn't even know how yet. Maybe she just recognizes a familiar scent on him. You sigh and turn into the driveway of your house.

You sense something is wrong when you turn the handle on the front door and it's not even latched. You know you locked it because you locked yourself out that morning and had to go in through the garage to get your keys. You step back and grab the strap of your purse, hand going to your pocket for your phone.

"Anyway then he said he couldn't go but I know he could..." You spin around and see your neighbor and a friend walking past your house chit chatting.

"You okay honey?" The friend asks, stopping your neighbor in her conversation.

You step down off the porch and clutch your phone. "Y-yeah."

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you sure?"

"Actually..." You glance back at the door. "Have you two seen anyone here? Or anyone you don't recognize around the neighborhood?"

The neighbor shakes her head. "No, not that I can recall. Is something wrong? Is your house okay?"

"I think so? It's just my door is unlocked and I know I locked it this morning. I'm worried that someone may have broke in and-"

"Oh honey, call the police. I wouldn't mess around with that." The friend says, pulling out her phone. "My husband works at the precient let me just give him a call."

"Oh that's okay he's probably busy. I probably just made a mistake or something."

"Dear you should have someone stop by before you go inside. If you're confident you locked it and it's unlocked then you should not go in." Your neighbor ushers you toward the sidewalk. "There could be a feral wolf in there. Y'know I heard one of them rouge packs has been in the Wolveswood lately."

"What? Really?" You bring your phone up and open Shawn's contact. "When did you hear that?"

"About three days ago? Some of the ladies at the book club were talking about it. I really wish the city council would do something about it. What if one of the kids gets hurt out there?"

You nod and lift your phone to your ear. "Excuse me, sorry." The phone rings and rings. Finally after six times Shawn answers. "Shawn? Can you come by the house?"

"Of course. Should I bring Myles?"

"No. Drop him off at you mom's house. There is something going on."

Shawn says something to Myles. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Have you called anyone else?"

"No, um well, the neighbor is calling her husband who's a cop. I'm not sure what's going on but the door to the house is unlocked and...Shawn I don't want Myles to be scared. I don't want you to panic."

He takes a deep breath. "I know. I'll try to stay calm. I'm on my way."

You lower your phone and stare at the front door of the house. If that woman is in there you're going to lose your shit. This has gone too far. What if you had brought Myles home with you before stopping at the coffee shop? What if you went in and the woman was there? Would she hurt you? You step back and your neighbor lays her hand on your shoulder.

"Breath dear, you're turning blue."

"Sorry." You shake your head and take a deep breath. "I'm just nervous."

"That's alright. I understand, this isn't something to take lightly. Hopefully all is well and nothing has happened and you did just forget to lock the door."

"No, I locked it, and it's not even latched. Someone was in my house or is right now."

"The cops are coming." Your neighbor's friend says softly.

"Thank you."

____________________

The moment Shawn arrives he pulls you into his arms. The cops arrived only moments before and have gone into the house to investigate. Shawn buries his face in your hair and cups the back of your neck with his hand as if he let go for just a moment he might lose you. He's burning hot, skin radiating heat through his clothes and into you. You're sure he's going mad in his head, mind racing with every scenario that could have played out. You slide your hand up his back, nails raking gentle against his spine to soothe him, to bring him down from a feral high.

"The house is clear." An officer says as he approaches. His badge says Martin. "There's signs of an invasion, we'll need you to verify any missing items."

"Yeah, sure." You nod and step away from Shawn, hand going to his. "Come on honey."

Shawn walks with you to the front door and he tenses, eyes darting around as if he senses something, or someone. "What is going on?"

"Hmm."

Your hand falls away as you step through the door frame. "Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head and follows after you.

The house has been ransacked. Your living room is torn up, the couch flipped, Myles’ play pen is destroyed, the drawers of your end table opened and emptied. You cover your mouth and stifle a cry as you take it all in. Whoever it was, wanted something.

"Ma'am, I know this is difficult to take in. Please let us know if anything is gone. We will add it to the report."

"Is the whole house like this?" You turn and look at officer Martin and he gives a gentle sorrowful look.

“Some of the rooms are too.” Martin says.

"Oh my God."

"Honey, they'll find who did this." Shawn says and wraps his arm around you to pull you into his chest. "Or I will." He says under his breath.

You look at the mantle and a photo of you and Shawn with Myles is missing. "The photo from his first day of kids care."

Shawn looks back and forth across the mantle. "It's gone. Why would they take it?"

"For reference?"

Officer Martin steps in. "Something gone?"

"A photo of us with our son, Shawn's son technically." You explain, lifting another frame. "It's this big or so."

"Maybe it's in the mess." Officer Martin offers, looking around the floor. "Is there anything of value in the frame?"

"No, just the photo."

Shawn moves away from you and pulls the officer aside. "Sir, can I talk to you outside? It may pertain to the situation."

"Of course."

"Baby, I'll be right back, I'm going to talk to the cop outside okay?" Shawn calls to you as you walk into the kitchen.

You nod. "Yeah, okay I'll be here." You look around the kitchen and it's fine for the most part. Some stuff has been moved, drawers opened but not emptied. Beside the kitchen is the mudroom and it's untouched. You stare up the stairs adjacent, nervous to find out what your bedroom looks like, not to mention the other two rooms up there. You take a deep breath and start the climb to find out.

_____________________

Your room is untouched. It looks exactly how you left it this morning. You waste no time looking around and move to the guest room that was once your brother's bedroom. It's okay, the same as always. Then you go to the room that used to be yours, the smallest upstairs and the one you use for Myles when he comes over. It has a twin size bed and some of his toys in it. It is the room you're sure won't be untouched.

The door falls open when you push on it and inside is dark. You turn on the light and sure enough it looks like someone has localized a tornado in there. Everything from the bed sheets to the spare change of Myles' clothes are strewn about. You cover your mouth. Had the intruder really come for Myles, thinking he was here?

Shawn calls your name and you turn in the doorway to see him at the top of the stairs. "We should go get Myles."

"I'm not bringing him back here."

"No, we're not. We'll go to the apartment. I don't want you to stay here either. I think we should be together right now."

You walk down the hall to meet him and he puts his arm around you, cradling your head to his chest. "Why is someone doing this?"

"I don't know. They want Myles back? I can't imagine why. He was abandoned. It’s been years."

"I know. I just feel like it's my fault somehow. Everything started happening when we got back together."

"No, shh." Shawn kisses your head. "You haven't done anything wrong. Let's finish up with the officers here and go get Myles and go home. It's too stressful in this house right now."

_____________________

Morning comes the next day after a restless night and you wake up in Shawn's bed with a weight on your chest. It's Myles. He is using you as a pillow, legs and body stretched out across Shawn's side of the bed. You rest your hand on his hair and scratch gently. He stirs, wakened by your touch.

"Momma?" Your heart races, it does every time he calls you that.

"What, Pup?"

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything. Why are you sorry?"

Myles turns his head and faces you, his little cheek squished into your skin. "Because you're scared." He pats his hand in time with your heartbeat over your chest.

You smile softly. "I'm not scared. I just woke up."

"But your heart is all bumbumbum."

"That's because I love you." You put your hand over his and he makes big eyes at you. "I realized you were sleeping on me and I am happy because you're my favorite pup."

Myles giggles. "Ohh. My heart goes bumbumbum too when you get me after school sometimes."

"That's when you get excited. Your heart can beat fast for a lot of reasons."

He nods. "Dad's does that when you are near him. What's that mean?"

You smile big and close your eyes. This child is so sweet, he has no idea. "It means Dad loves me and is happy when we are together. Let's go back to sleep. I'm very tired."

"Me too." Myles says as he stretches. He shifts around and lays beside you, cuddles against your side. "I love you too Momma."

You turn and hold him against you, chin on his head. He's warm like Shawn, the wolf in him making him run hotter than average. You close your eyes and relax, he's safe and so are you.

_____________________upadate

When you get up later in the morning Shawn is still gone. You assume he is at the shop working like usual but when you go down with Myles he isn't there.

"Lettie, is Shawn out?" You ask as you place Myles down by his toys.

The sweet old woman looks up from her magazine. "He wasn't here dear. I saw him come down this morning and head out across the street. He texted me last night about running the shop today for him. I figured he was going to your place but now I see that isn't the case."

"He left? He didn't say anything to me about that. What time did he leave?"

Lettie looks back at the clock. "Around five this morning."

"He's been gone all morning. Can you watch Myles? I'm gonna run upstairs and check for a note."

"Sure thing dear."

You head out the door and go to the door to the apartment stairs. Surely Shawn would have left a note or even a text saying he wasn't going to be at the shop. He never said anything about leaving yesterday, in fact he was pretty hell bent on keeping you and Myles close. You search the living room and kitchen counters for any notes. Nothing. No luck at all. Maybe something came up? But with who? His parents? The woman? You sink down onto the couch and stare at the ceiling.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" You ask out loud. "Why on Earth did you leave me here with Myles when shit is hitting the fan?"

You a,re torn. On one hand you want to go see if he's at the Wolveswood because you have a feeling that after finding out about a rogue pack he may have gone there for answers. On the other hand you have to keep Myles safe and leaving him with someone else isn't exactly your best option. Not that you stand a chance against a werewolf should anything happen gods forbid it but you'd rather he be with you.

There is no use keeping Myles downstairs with Lettie if Shawn's not working. You'll grab him and bring him back up for some breakfast and play time. It's best you just stay home and wait to hear from Shawn.

Two hours later and it's nearly noon. You've not heard from Shawn despite calling him twice and leaving messages. You're beginning to worry if he's alright. Myles knows something is wrong but he doesn't say anything, just sits real close and lays on your lap while you watch TV.

Nearly four in the afternoon and you have yet to know where Shawn is. Panic is starting to set in and you worry he's gone after the woman or the rogue wolves and gotten hurt. How could he be so reckless? How could he just leave you without warning? At least leave a note so you can send the police for him if he doesn't return by a certain time.

You grab your keys and get Myles dressed to go to his Karen's house. You're going to go after Shawn and the best place for Myles is her house. You have no idea how you're going to find him, but you're going to try locating his car first and work from there.

After leaving Myles with Karen you double back to the entrance of the Wolveswood. Sure enough Shawn's Jeep is there but you realize you have absolutely nothing to defend yourself with if you go inside. You turn back onto the road and head for your house. You have a taser in the top drawer of your dresser and you might have a knife or two in the garage from your dad's hunting and fishing stuff your parents kept in there.

You are in and out of the house fairly quickly, having found the taser and a good-sized knife for skinning deer. You hope you won't have to use either one but if the occasion comes you're ready. There is one last stop you need to make and it's at Shawn's place to lock up. You had forgotten in the rush to get Myles to Karen's place and you don't need someone wandering into his house.

You climb the stairs to the apartment and you freeze with your key in the lock. You can hear someone talking outside the lower door. It spooks you and you open the door and go inside, flipping the lock just in case. You go to the front windows and look down to see if there is anyone out there on their cell phone. There is someone there and it's a guy in maybe his thirties, looking at the door, then to your car. Your stomach sinks.  

You feel around your pockets and realize you've left your phone in the car with your purse. Outside the guy stops talking and is standing in front of the door, looking up. You back away from the window and go to the kitchen. You grab a dining chair and shove it against the front door handle. The only other exit is through the fire escape in Myles' bedroom.

Just as you get the window open you can hear pounding on the front door you've blocked. As you suspected, the guy was not just some innocent passerby. You duck out of the window onto the railings of the fire escape. If you can just get down to the shop you know Lettie is in there cleaning up. You're not alone. You take a deep breath and try to calm your racing heart and shaking hands. Panic won't help you.

The latch on the ladder is stuck, rusty and unused. You kick at it trying to loosen it. If you can't get it undone you're not going to get down. The ladder stops short about ten feet from the ground and there isn't even a dumpster you can land on in a movie like escape. You kick harder and still nothing. You look up to the roof and there is a ladder there for maintenance but that's not going to help you if you're discovered. The roof is a trap.

You lean into the window and look around Myles' room for something you can hit the latch with. His room isn't exactly filled with tools or anything outside of plush blankets and action figures. There's a bottle of lotion on his dresser. Maybe it'll work as a lubricant. You crawl in and grab it and head back out to get to work.

Inside you hear the chair in front of the door scoot loudly against the wooden floor. You kick the latch one more time and it drops, the ladder extending down to the ground. Your heart clenches and you're gone, climbing down as fast as your hands and feet will allow. The ground under your feet is sweet solace as you barrel through the back storage room door into the cafe.  

"Hey! Who's there?!"

"It's me Lettie!" You yell and head for the phone on the wall in the small office area where Shawn keeps his paperwork and invoices. "I don't have time to explain. Someone has broken into Shawn's apartment."

"What?!" Lettie looks up at the ceiling. "I heard some noise from up there but I figured you were just cleaning or something while Myles is away."

You dial the police and hold the phone against your ear as it rings. "I got out through the fire escape."

Lettie grabs her keys and heads for the front door. "That son of a bitch isn't getting away with this."

"Lettie! What're you doing?"

"I'm locking them in!"

"How?"

"I've got keys. It used to be my place before it was Shawn's.  I've got the spares in case Shawn locks himself out." Lettie says triumphantly. "Let's see them escape now."

"Lettie- yes hello, I'd like to report a break in." You turn away from the old woman going out to lock the stairwell door to the apartment. "I'm at 223 Main Street at the Full Moon Brew coffee shop. My boyfriend's apartment above has been broken into.  Yes I'm fine. No I'm not alone, I'm with an employee in the shop."

The operator asks a few more questions and informs you a squad car is on its way. Just as the woman is repeating back your information the line clicks and goes dead. "Hello?" You pull the phone away as the dial tone beeps. "Fuck."

Outside Shawn's Jeep pulls up in front of the shop and your heart stops. What impeccable timing. You can see Lettie talking to him and he looks upstairs then into the shop. He looks wild and you know he isn't going to wait for the police.

______________

"Shawn." You say softly as he enters the shop and strides up to you. "He's safe, he's with your mom."

"Oh thank Gods. How did you know what I was going to ask?"

"He's our son and he's not here." You glance up at the ceiling. "Of course you're going to ask."

"Who's in my house?"

"I have no idea. They showed up as soon as I got here to lock up. I'm pretty sure they followed me from the Wolveswood."

Shawn growls low and curls his fingers around the nearby countertop ledge. "He's one of them. There's a whole pack trying to find Myles. From what I gather he's the son of their alpha and his mother abandoned him because she and the alpha were not mates."

"How did they find him?"

"The mother confessed. She is the one we've been seeing everywhere. She thought she could just take him and save her life if she brought back the child before anyone found out she abandoned him." Shawn glares at the ceiling as footsteps creak across the floor boards. "I'm willing to bet that's the alpha."

"His dad."

"No. I'm his dad. I raised him and he is my child." He heads for the back door, following the footsteps overhead. "And no one is going to take him from you or me without going through my dead body."

"Shawn, don't start a fight. If you die, what happens to me? Do you really think they'll just interrogate me into giving Myles up and let me live?" You shake as you speak, voice trembling harshly. "Let the police take care of this."

Shawn stops at the backdoor and grips the frame harshly, the wood splintering under his grip. "I'm that guy's worst nightmare. He came after my family, my child. I won't wait for the police, I have to deal with him myself."

"Just wait! Shawn! No!" You shout as he runs out into the alley. He's going for the fire escape no doubt. You step out the door and he's already on the metal overhang above you.

__________

to be continued

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[raysreads]

Teen Wolf Character Scents

Okay this might sound weird, but I’ve been reading a lot of Teen Wolf fic lately and it always puts a heavy emphasis on what the character smells like. Because...werewolf senses and everyone has a natural scent. I personally love this so here are my headcanons for what each characters natural scent would be!!!!!

(I give reasons for why I went with those things but some of the reasons themselves are headcanons, and some just came to me and have no reason at all besides that fact that i love it that way)

So background info: I headcanon some scents are from birth, while some are added/change based on experiences, temperament and emotions. You have your own scent and it does its own thing, even when you’re human. Humans cant smell them since they aren’t necessarily real, they are more a smell supernaturals pick up that’s a cryptic reflection of ones personality.

Stiles: Gotta start with the main boi!!!! He smells like spicy chili peppers, honey and everything spicy. He is wild and loud and so so sharp. He uses cutting anger and snark and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, this reflects in a scent that burns your nose. But he cares and loves a lot and is super soft, hence the honey. If you focus on his scent too much your eyes water with the chili. When he gets angry he send tears down everyone’s faces and even reddens the cheeks and burns the tongues of the supernatural pack members in his anger, his scent becoming physical as his spark acts up.

Peter: He smells like cold. Like cold, and petrichor and mint toothpaste. He always has. He smells like the cold of ice, the cold you smell when you open a freezer in the cold isle of the grocery store and like Vick’s Vaporub but 10x as strong. As the left hand of the pack it was his job to kill, to eliminate threats, his job to bear all the blood on his hands, to have his hands permanently stained sticky red and his eyes glow blue, so that no one else in the pack has to live with the guilt of murder, even when justified. His first kill was at 8 years old and he would never forgive the fact that he had been given that burden. So he became unmovable ice and unending cold. With the thick smell of rain for the warmth he would always keep hidden.

Theo: His scent is that of fresh, right off the smoker, BBQ sauce-soaked ribs and apple juice. Its a scent he was born with, one that reflects the gooey warmth of his soul and his innocence before he was manipulated and tortured. His scent always throws people off since it usually reflects ones personality and he’s not a good person by any means, he is amoral and cruel; and such a warm, soft scent doesn’t make sense. But his soul (though no longer pure) would always hold his original innocence. The apple juice isn’t actually his scent, but his sisters, her heart such a part of him that his guilt manifested her soul in his scent. And if you focus hard enough, underneath all that you can find the sting of bleach. His time with the dread doctors (and the fact that he was surgically tortured into being a chimera) leaving part of his scent mangled and altered into the artificial tang of bleach. The fact that he forced his scent to remain mostly unchanged throughout his life (which was worse than hell on earth) is Very Very Impressive, even more so when in the beginning he wasn’t even supernatural.

Scott: Our ever-sweet true alpha. He smells like overly sweet pink and blue cotton candy and hot, buttered, movie theater popcorn. He’s literally sugar and spice and everything nice. His morals and warmth translating to the hot popcorn and his perpetual smiling and niceness coming though as cotton candy. He smells like fairgrounds and the laughter of children. Underneath all that he bears the subtle scent of rust,  a permanent reminder of his forced change to the supernatural and permanent resentment of the burden he must bear (and the guilt about that resentment)

Derek: He smells of Sandalwood, Patchouli, and Frankincense. He always smells like incense and spices, like the inside of a stereotypical fortune tellers shop. He becomes heat, warmth, and flame. Something that pulls at his soul since the fire. Something that is a comfort to the wolves around him. He also smells heavily of smoke (something that makes Peter unable to be in the same room as him for longer than 30 minutes unless forced) because of his never-ending guilt about his family, something that seared the event into his scent. When he’s angry (which is a lot) his scent gets stronger and the incense smell becomes extremely heady and makes his betas lethargic.

Lydia: She smells like metal, like your hands after handling handfuls of change. She smells like she bathed in pennies, her standoffish coldness bringing the bitter smell to her scent. Since she became a banshee she also smells strongly of spider lilies (also know as hell flowers), japans flower of death. You would think the contrast between bitter metal and floral scents, so strong you choke, would be bad but its actually strangely comforting. And while bitter its the only thing that can get Jackson to relax some days. The scent of the only person there for him for over a decade-and-a-half sometimes even more comforting than the scent of his boyfriend.

Isaac: His scent is of strong cologne even though he never wears any, he smells like he bathed in the Mahogany Teakwood candle from Bath and Body Works, or lived in an Abercrombie & Fitch for 50 years. He always had that smell, even as a child, but it just gets stronger the more confidence he gains. His childhood innocence and cleanliness of soul translates as a strong laundry soap smell. But hidden underneath there's an undertone of metal, plastic, and cold; that takes over his scent when he's scared and overwhelmes everything in a mile radius. It takes the Pack far too long to realize it smells like a freezer and metal chains.

Allison: She smells strongly of ozone and static (not rain though, never rain). Her anger and righteous fury making her scent like electricity and making the static-y-ness tingle in everyone's nose - sometimes making Scott sneeze. Nothing in her scent is pleasant or comforting to everyone's confusion. Its only when she feels negative emotions that she smells like roses and summer. Its like a warning but in reverse, the opposite of what it should be. Bad scents usually mean bad emotions or feelings or memories, and good scents mean good moods and positive things but for her its the opposite. Just like how she took the opposite path then what was laid out for her.

Jackson: He smells very very heavily of cherries, his scent so strong and sweet its like he took a bath in a hot tub filled with cherry cough medicine, chloraseptic cherry sore throat spray, cherry pie, cherry starburst, cherry Jell-O, and maraschino cherries. Its thick and sticky and strong enough to drown out the scent and stick for hours on anyone standing near him or touching him and it lingers on the Pack members even if they haven’t seen each other for years. Case-in-point: Jackson left for England after the kanima thing and Isaac left for France not long after. When Isaac came back 6 years later (2 years after Jackson came back) he still had the smell on him pretty strongly. Why cherries? No one knows. But its thick as hell and stronger than epoxy when it binds to things together forever. The Pack thinks it stems with his identity and abandonment issues, but once he claims you he wont let go, not even his scent. He is very self conscious and embarrassed about it so its never discussed, and he’s been friends with Danny for so long that his scent almost drowns out Danny’s own. 

Ethan: Ethan’s scent is subtle and barely there. He was the one who always stood in front of Aiden to protect them, and took the beatings when possible so his scent became as bland and barely-there as possible. The Pack can only smell his scent with intense focus and at least an hours meditation (unless you’re Aiden). He smells of freshly baked bread and homemade jam, comforting smells that easily calm Aiden down. In times of distress he smells of burnt toast, he scent twisting with negative memories. A reminder that all good things have eventually turned bad for him and his twin.

Aiden: Aiden on the other hand smells strongly like curry and lavender. An odd combination but one that speaks of his guarded- but angry, headstrong and stubborn- nature. The abuse left him angry and twitchy and paranoid, everything setting him off and his moods turning on a dime. His scent fluctuated wildly between spicy curry and calming lavender which indicated his mood and Ethan was the only one able to calm him down, doing so with a single touch between his shoulder blades where they merged.

Danny: Danny smells like he lived in a Eucalyptus oil factory for 50 years, the scent soothing and calm like he is. Its always the same and never changes, not even when his emotions do. It was concerning at first, since everyone else’s scents changed throughout the day, even when their mood didn't (the only other scent that barely changed was Peter’s but that was because the man hand an iron grip over his emotions, even in his scent. Which is super impressive). He was just that calm at all times, even when annoyed. The one time he got angry- and I mean really angry not just the pretenses he kept when ‘annoyed’ with Stiles who he more endeared with than anything- his scent overwhelmed the entire apartment complex ( the one Derek had bought out for his loft) with the horrible, strong, pungent scent of burnt rubber. No one angered him again.

But they did have a chat about his witch ancestry.

Erica: Her scent was that of a bonfire. A blazing bonfire, gasoline, and the smell of the world when it was so hot outside the air above the tar street shimmered. She was competitive, and fierce, and pure heat and burning. If she wanted something, she would take it she had always been that way, even when she was sick. And while her sickness may be gone she had a subtle distortion to her scent, one like poison, that made her always smell slightly sick. (Peter almost had a panic attack when he first met her because of her scent, he now never came within 10 feet of her).

Boyd: He smelled like a flower garden. He was so stoic that the floral scent took many by surprise. He had always smelled like soil and dirt, his down to earth personality manifesting as a calming and grounding scent. He also smelled like the ocean, like salt and brine, and waves. But that was all drowned out by the overwhelming smell of flowers, a scent that used to be his sisters, one that he subconsciously adopted after her death when he was still human. He empathized with Theo and would exchange heavy glances when the pack discussed their natural scents as a ‘pack bonding exercise’, they were both drowned in guilt for different reasons, but both over lost sisters. They never discussed it. That was all folks!!! Feel free to add on to this and/or use it as a fanfic reference!!! Do you agree??? What are your headcanons???

[fics-for-my-heart]

Newbie (s.s)

Summary: Starting a new school with the ability to see that someone is supernatural takes a crazy turn

Word count:4069

Warning: talk of people dying, typical teen wolf stuff

A/N: I was going to put this all in one part but I think it’s going to be too long. So here’s part one. I might make it a series? There’s not too much romance in this but I definitely plan to make it happen soon. Let me know what you think. Also I’ve been watching Buffy which was why it was included in this.

Part Two

Masterlist

Starting a new school always sucked. But, starting a new school with the knowledge of the supernatural you had seemed to make it worse. Plus, your ability to see when someone was supernatural made things a bit awkward. Each supernatural gave off their own color, like an aura, and that’s what you could see. There was a good amount of supernaturals in your old town, but as you walked the streets of Beacon Hills you realized there were so many more. 

“Have a good day sweetie.” Your mom said as you shut the car door. “Don’t let your sight get in your way. Make some friends.” 

“I’ll try. Love you.” 

“Love you! I’ll be at the shop if you need me.” Then she was gone, leaving you to watch everyone running around to get to friends or to class. 

After checking in at the front office, the secretary, Mrs. Elle, took you to your first class. “Mrs. Hopkins is a wonderful English teacher. If you need any help throughout the day come see me.” She knocked on the door, then opened it to a room full of people, the teacher was at the board. A beautiful purple glow surrounded her. 

Fairy. 

“Mrs. Hopkins, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She just transferred here.”

Mrs. Hopkins gave a bright smile, walking over to shake your hand. “Lovely to meet you. We are just starting on The Great Gatsby. There’s only a few seats left but you can pick wherever you want.” She handed you a copy of the book, then spoke to Mrs. Elle. 

When you looked up at the room, only a handful of people were looking at you, others were texting or reading. Your eyes scanned the seats, spotting one before the color around the boy beside it caught your eye. 

Your brows furrowed. Since coming here you’d seen many colors you hadn’t categorized yet. But this one was different. It was deep purple, with black and red, and even some blues and greens. Normally there was one color, just different shades. Never this many. 

The boy cocked his head to the side and you jumped a bit, realizing you’d been staring. With your head low, you made your way to the seat, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. To distract yourself, you plotted your classes on the little map, and when the bell rang you booked it out of the room. 

The rest of the day was as good as any first day. Lots of stuff to catch up on, lots of new colors to try and match with a supernatural. But the boy from English took up most of your mind. Why did he have so many colors? 

Your mind was racing as the school day drew to a close. The sun on your face felt so nice, and the calm breeze helped slow everything down. It gave you a moment of peace as you scanned the lot for your moms car. Then you saw him. He was at a table with two baby blues, a teal, and a scarlet. They looked like they were in deep conversation. 

There was this weird pull in your gut, and before you could stop yourself you were walking toward them. 

“It’s only taking their skin. Why?” The older looking baby blue said, he looked stressed. They all did. 

The scarlet was running her fingers down a book, biting her lip. 

The teal shrugged. “Maybe it just likes to eat the skin?” 

Little baby blue just stared at her like she was nuts before big baby blue spoke up. “If it did we wouldn’t be finding discarded skin near the freshly skinned bodies.”

Your heart stopped. No. There’s no way. 

“None of them look eaten, and the skin only has a line down their back. It doesn’t make sense. Stiles, has your dad said anything?” 

The boy from English, Stiles, spoke up. “Not really. He said they seemed to have some type of film on them. Like they had been preserved in something.” 

“Skincrawler.” You whispered, your heart pounding in your ears. 

“Y/N?” Stiles asked. They were all looking at you as your eyes widened. 

“I..uh.” You cleared your throat and tried to steady your breath. “Do they have a stab mark at the base of their neck.” They nodded and you were suddenly light headed. 

“Shit,” Stiles jumped up, gently pushing you into his seat. “Guys this is Y/N. She’s in my English class.” 

“What did you call this thing?” Scarlet asked. They were all still looking at you like you were crazy. 

“A skincrawler.” You rubbed your face. “They kill someone and wear their skin.” 

“Fuck.” Little baby blue whispered.

You shook your head. “You’re all safe. They don’t go after other supernaturals.” That earned you an even weirder set of looks. “You two are werewolves.” You nodded at the baby blues. “You’re part werewolf, part something else.” You nodded to teal. “And I’m not sure what you two are.” You said to scarlet and Stiles. 

None of them spoke for a minute. Then big baby blue extended his hand. “I’m Scott McCall.” His eyes were red, such a contrast to his coloring. 

“You’re an alpha.” You shook his hand and he cocked a brow. “I can see your true eyes.” 

His hand slipped from yours, replaced with little baby blue, Liam, then teal, Malia. Scarlets name was Lydia. Then Stiles shook your hand, his grip was firm, and he held it while he spoke. “How did you know what they are?”

“Each supernatural has its own aura, my family is what they call True Seers. I can see the auras around you, and your true eyes. I’m the first in almost a decade so I’m pretty much learning on my own. Which is why I’m not able to identify yours.” You glanced at Stiles, Lydia, and Malia. 

“I’m a Banshee.” Lydia gave you a soft smile then looked back to the book. 

“Werecoyote.” Malia supplied with a shrug. “Both my parents tried to kill me so don’t ask.” 

You looked up at Stiles but he shook his head. “Just your average human here. Which doesn’t seem like a good thing with these skin guys walking around.” 

It didn’t make sense that he wasn’t a supernatural, but there were more pressing things to address. 

“Are these like the skinwalkers? Because I’ve seen them and I don’t think they would do this.” Scott questioned, turning to look at you. 

You shook your head. “No. Walkers are non threatening. The crawlers, as you can tell, aren’t. And they are hard to locate. When they stab the person, not only does it kill them, but it seems to transfer all their memories. So even though it’s still the monster inside. It looks and has the same mannerisms as the person it killed.” 

“How do we stop it?” Malia asked, she looked ready for a fight. 

A shudder ran down your body at the memory of when you last saw this creature. “It’s not easy. First you have to know how many there are. They are stronger packs. Then you have to find out where they are staying. But even harder you have to find out who they are wearing.”

Scott rubbed his face, everyone was looking at him, waiting for his directions. “We need Derick and Argent. Maybe Parish too.” 

“I’ll go to the library and see if I can find anything out.” Lydia said, having no luck with the current book. “Where are we meeting?” 

“The loft, at seven.” Scott turned to you. “Would you come? You seem to know more about them than we do. We could use your help.” 

You glanced around at them. A group of friends who were closer than close. Had clearly been through a lot. “Yeah. Yeah. Just give me the address.” 

“I can pick you up.” Stiles said quickly, stumbling over his words when everyone turned to him. “I mean. It’s kinda hard to get to that first time. It would be easier for someone to give you a ride.” His ears turned pink as Lydia and Malia shared a look. Scott was trying to hold his grin. But Liam was flat out laughing at him. 

Before you could respond a horn honked, followed by your mom calling your name. “Here.” You tore a piece of paper and quickly wrote your address and number down. “Just let me know when you get there.”

As you walked away you could hear the low voices talking at once followed by Stiles. “You guys suck I’m going home.” 

—

You shared everything with your mom on the way home. Even though she wasn’t a true seer, everyone in her family got trained in case it appeared later in life. 

“So this true alpha has a mixed pack?” She asked, dropping the box of books on the table. 

“Yes. There’s definitely a lot of stuff they have been through. I could feel how strong their connection was.” You started thumbing through the first book, your mom following suit with her own. 

“And this Stiles boy, he said he wasn’t supernatural?” 

“Yeah. I can’t even begin to explain the way the colors were around him. It was like someone spilled a bunch of paint. Very chaotic.” You closed the book, having no luck. “I don’t think the book is in here. I think it’s with Buffy.” 

Your mother examined the books, then nodded. “I think so. I’ll give her a call. But you should probably go get it tonight if she has it.”

“Can I take the car?” You asked, slightly excited about getting to go see someone who was pretty much your Aunt but you get to drive. 

Your mom nodded. But before you could say anything your phone vibrated 

  Maybe Stiles: Y/N? It’s Stiles. I’m outside. I think. 

  You: Okay, I'll be out in a sec. 

"Stiles is here." You told your mom as you slipped into your jacket. "Just have Buffy text me if she has the box." You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Love you."

She opened another book. "I will. I'll also keep looking and see if I can find anything. I know there was something in one of the books last time, I just have to remember which one. And I love you too. Be safe."

You slipped your bad over your shoulder and headed out where a blue jeep was waiting. Stiles was in the front seat tapping his fingers and singing to whatever was playing. He was wearing a maroon lacrosse hoodie and his hair looked more disheveled than it did at school. His tapping stopped when you opened the door and Should I Stay or Should I Go was playing. His voice died off as he looked at you standing in the door. 

"The Clash? Good choice." You said as the song came to an end, and a new one began. "Oh, and Fleetwood Mac?"

Stiles shrugged, taking your bag for you as you climbed in. "Can never go wrong with some classic rock." 

"That is very true. I think I might like you a bit now Stiles." His colors were dimmer than they had been at school, which was normal, the sun always made them brighter. They were much less distracting this way too. "So, is there anything I should know before we get to this mystery loft?"

"There's a lot you should know. But the drive isn't long enough for everything, so I'll give you the rundown." He pulled the jeep from the curb and started talking. 

He told you who Derek, Argent, and Parrish were and how Scott and Liam turned. But that was about as much as he could get in before pulling into the parking lot of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. So many questions were running through your mind as you looked up at the building. "Funny, a werewolf living in a warehouse."

Stiles laughed, then nodded to the door. "I swear the loft is so much better inside." 

He was right. When he pulled open the huge metal door it revealed a beautiful open space full of natural light and people. Four you had already met, three you had names for but not faces. 

Scott was quick to introduce you to the other three. Derek was obviously a werewolf with his baby blue coloring that matched his eyes. Jordan Parrish was the first human hellhound you've met, and his color was exactly like fire. 

Argent was the only one without a color. "A True Seer?" He asked, shaking your hand. "I've only met one other person with that ability. Welcome to Beacon. Scott said you knew something about these things?" 

"We fought a group of them when I lived in Sunnydale. I know we had some literature on them, my mom is looking through our books, but I think I think they might have gotten left at my Aunt's house. Once I know though I’m heading there to get them.”

Argent nodded, then pointed to the map. “We have a rough pattern. And based on the bodies I think we might be dealing with just one.” 

“What do you know about the people who have been killed?” You asked, noting the four red circles on the map that seemed to form a shape. 

“Not a lot.” Parrish spoke up, opening a file. “All different ages. Different builds. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern here. But we are still searching through their backgrounds. So far the only possibility is they knew each other or went to the local church.” 

You nodded. “They liked to go after people who knew each other. How often are bodies turning up?”

“Every two weeks or so. The last one was the day before yesterday.” Stiles answered, your phone buzzed. 

  Buffy: The books are here. Fill me in on what’s happening. 

  You: I’m coming to you. Be there soon. 

“My Aunt has the books. Is it okay if I take a picture of this? I think I can get some extra help.” You asked nodding to the map. 

"Yeah. The more help we can get the better." Argent said, stepping back as you angled your phone for a picture. 

"Is there anyone missing from the school?" Derek asked, looking at the others. 

Lydia shrugged. "Not sure yet. There were a few people out today, but they could have just been normal reasons. I'm keeping an eye on everything." 

"We couldn't get a scent from the body." Malia added, giving a shudder. "I think I might have nightmares for weeks."

“I didn’t see anyone there with the color for them. It’s kind of a deep grey color. Even when they switch skins the color is still there.” You looked at Stiles, his brows were pinched and he was working his thumb with his teeth as he looked at the map. "Hey," you whispered as the others discussed the body. "Could you drive me home. Buffy has the books so I need to get to Sunnydale." 

His brown eyes met yours, the concentration making him look adorable. "Huh? Oh, yeah." He looked up at the others. "Guys, I'm going to take Y/N home so she can go get the books." 

After some quick goodbyes the two of you made your way back to the jeep. 

"If you want, I can take you there?" Stiles said, his hand was rubbing at the back of his neck. 

You stopped and looked at him. "To Sunnydale?" 

"Yeah. It's late, and well, I'd feel safer away from here." He shrugged. "Plus it's late." 

"You said that." You laughed. "If you want to drive me that's alright." 

"Awesome." He jumped in the jeep, waited for you to get in and buckled, then looked over at you. "So, how do I get to Sunnydale?"

------

"Okay, wait. Like, a full, legit deadpool?" The two of you were almost there, and Stiles had started filling you in on everything they had experienced. 

"Yes. That's how we found out that Parrish was supernatural. He was on the list. Peter, is the one who put the list out. He used another banshee to set it all up."

"So, if I ever meet Peter can I punch him?" Even though you'd just met this group you felt oddly protective of them.

"He is kinda neutral right now, but honestly, go for it." He winked at you. "So is there anything I should know before we get there?"

"Well, yes. Buffy isn't really my aunt, but she feels like one. She's the slayer. Spike might be there, he's a vampire. Willow, she's like my other aunt, she's a witch." Excitement started building as you saw the sign for the exit.

He was silent for a moment, then he said slowly. "Vampire?"

"He won't try anything. He knows I can take him, but also he's fairly harmless." 

Stiles rubbed his lips. "Vampire." 

"Yes. Turn left up here." You said. He followed your directions, eventually pulling in front of the house you spent much of your childhood. "You okay?"

"Uh. Yeah. I'm still processing I think." 

You placed your hand on his arm. "I promise you it'll be fine. But if you want, you can stay in the car." 

He shook his head, removing the keys. "Lets go." 

All the lights were on as you made your way to the house, Spike was standing in the open door. 

"Hello, Little Bit." His British accent was familiar and a sudden wave of homesickness hit you. 

You ignored it though, rolling our eyes. "Shut it you loof. The skin crawlers are back, we don't have time for your shit." 

He placed a hand on his chest. "Your words wound, missy." His eyes traveled behind you. "Who's the bloke?"

"Spike, Stiles. Stiles, Spike.” You pointed at Spike. "Be nice."  You grabbed Stiles' hand and led him into the house, avoiding Spike's attempt to ruffle your hair. The others were already waiting in the dining room. 

You quickly introduced Stiles to everyone. Then jumped right into what you knew. 

“I went by the crypt.” Spike said after you’d told them the last of the information. “It didn’t look like anything escaped. Place is still rubble.”

“Wait.” Stiles leaned his elbows on the table.  “How exactly did you guys kill these things last time?”

“Blew them up.” Willow shrugged, flipping through a book. 

Stiles fell back into his chair and looked at you. “Blew them up?” 

“Buf has army connections so we were able to… acquire some top grade stuff.” You told him. You could tell he was trying to process all of this, he was really cute. 

“Argent might have some connections.” He nodded as if he was coming up with a plan. 

You let him be and flipped open a book, your heart immediately stopping. Before saying anything you looked back at one of the pictures you had taken. 

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” You dragged your finger down the page as you read. “This is bad.” Everyone was looking at you as you pointed to the diagram in the book. “A resurrection ritual.”

“Bloody hell.” Spike said, jumping from his chair, heading straight to the little bar table. 

Willow paled, pulling the book to her and muttered something under her breath. 

“Uh. That doesn’t seem like a good thing.” Stiles said. 

You turned to him, your heart was pounding. “The skincrawler is doing a resurrection ritual. Basically it’s trying to bring something back from the dead. Probably the ones we killed.” 

“Okay that sounds really bad.” 

“It says here it has to make five sacrifices around a power source.” Willow said. “But it’s not doing it over the Hellmouth so what’s in Beacon Hills?” She looked over at Stiles. You opened the picture of the map, examining it closer, trying to find the pattern. 

“The Nemeton.” He whispered, struggling to get his phone out of his pocket. After pressing around there was the trill of a call. 

“Stiles? It’s late.” Argents' gruff voice filled the room. 

“I know I know. Listen. I need you to go to that map. I need you to go to it and tell me what’s in the middle of those points.”

“A star!” You shouted. “They need five points. There are four on here. If you trace a star you can find the next dump site and the middle.” 

There was rustling on the phone, then, “Shit.” 

“It’s The Nemeton isn’t it?” 

“Yeah. It’s The Nemeton.” There was some more noise from the other side of the phone. “I’ve got a rough guess where the next dump site will be. I’ll tell the others.” 

“So The Nemeton is a real thing?” Willow asked, amazement all over her face. 

You raised your hand. “Excuse me, what is that?” 

“Short version? A supernatural ritual site created by Druids. It’s what makes Beacon Hills a beacon for the supernatural.” 

“I thought they were a myth.” Willows eyes were dazed as she zoned out. 

“So you’re telling me I moved from the demon hotspot Hellmouth to the literal beacon for the supernatural? Unbelievable.” 

"It's very real. Sometime I'll tell you the story of how it awoke and got so much power. But right now we need to get back." He looked incredibly worried. 

"It's late." Buffy said, she and Spike had been talking in the corner quietly. "You guys should stay here and sleep for a few hours before driving back."

Spike nodded. "I agree, Little Bit. There's still a few days till you should really worry. Sleep a bit and head out at sunrise."

As he spoke, you could feel the exhaustion suddenly weighing on your body. "He's right. Let the others scope out some stuff while we catch some shut eye." 

"Your room is still made up. Go sleep and I'll make you guys breakfast in the morning." 

You nodded, and silently led Stiles up the steps. He’d been quiet, worry was all over his face. He sat down in the desk chair, lip between his teeth. 

“They will be okay.” You said softly, moving the pillows off the bed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. We defeated them once, we can do it again. Really Argent is the only one to worry about there, he’s not a supernatural. Plus they are very time oriented. They stick to the same schedule when it comes to changing.” 

After a moment he spoke again. “Uh. Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” 

There wasn’t much space in the small room so you shook your head. “You can sleep in the bed. You’re driving so better rest is safer.”

The two of you were quiet as you took turns in the bathroom, then getting situated in the bed. 

“Ya know,” you said after a few minutes in the dark. “If you had told me that on my first day of another new school I’d meet more supernaturals, find out the skincrawlers are back, and share a bed with a guy I just met that morning. I’d think you were crazy.” 

“I’ve learned to just ride out the crazy. Trust me, it’s easier to do that than to try and fight it.” His head turned toward you, voice  just above a whisper. “Why did you seem so freaked about the skincrawlers?”

You were suddenly very thankful for the dark. “They got one of my best friends. It was how we found out about them actually. She went missing for a day or so and when she came back she had this Grey color around her that hadn’t been there before. And her eyes seemed empty. Like everything about her was still her. But her eyes.” A shudder ran through you. “It used the knowledge from her to taunt us, me. Things got ugly. The boom.” You wiped the tear off your cheek, turning to see his silhouette in the dark. “If it’s just one, and we get it before it completes the ritual, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. I have faith in us. With the information we take back, it’ll help. Let’s get some sleep though.” Even though you said it, you stayed awake long after Stiles' breath evened out. Images of your last run in with these nasty things running through your mind. There was no peaceful sleep. 

[written-prose-things]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Laura Hale, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Miscommunication, lil bit of angst Summary:

Laura Hale has been the alpha of a teenaged pack who's seen everything from draculas to faeries. How is she going to deal with Stiles getting her brother's name as his soul mark? Especially when said brother already has someone else's name.

(the fic’s under the cut as well)

Even if the pack’s a bit more grown-up now, they still act like the kids they were when she first met them. So as she’s sitting down on the couch with her noodle soup, to enjoy some reality tv, that one pack member or another is going to bust through the door and start clamouring for her attention. But she’s nothing if not headstrong.

The staple fight between the Kardashians is barely in its first act when Stiles rushes through the door, his sneakers squeaking and plaid shirt and jacket flapping around. He smells of anxiety and nervousness, exactly like he did the first day they met.

He whispers urgently, “Laura??!”.

She yells back from the den, “Here!!”

He walks towards her quickly, muttering, “Oh my god, be quiet!!”

When he finally turns the corner and enters the den, Laura puts her bowl aside and pats the seat next to her, “What’s wrong pup?”

He takes a deep breath, and she already expects a long-winded rant, “So, you know about soul marks, right? Obviously, you got yours, you’re still looking for the person with that name, so you know about this thing. Everyone gets it, right? But does everyone get that of the person that reciprocates? Not always. Sometimes people have different names.”

Laura frowns. Why’s he talking about soul marks suddenly? God knows it’s been a sour topic for him since his 17th birthday passed and he didn’t get-

“Oh my god!!! You got your mark??!! Stiles! You-” Stiles muffles her mouth quickly.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He whispers urgently, “Someone might hear!”    

Laura batted his hand away from her mouth, “No one else is here.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow, “Derek?”

Laura shrugs, “He said there was some work that needed to be done on the roof so he went to get supplies from the hardware store.”

Stiles smirks, “Wow, I always thought that nothing short of an apocalypse would make that homebody move from the mansion. But hey, in miracles we must believe.”

Laura smacks his thigh, “Shut up about Derek already, tell me about your mark, where is it?”

Stiles’ smirk becomes a little stilted as he replies, “I can’t really stop talking about Derek, he’s related to this whole mark thing that’s happened to me.”

Laura stutters, “You- Derek? You got Derek?”

Stiles’ smirk is now a full frown, “Yup.”

Laura knows she shouldn’t point it out, and that Stiles knows it already, “But he already has a-”

Stiles doesn’t let her complete, “Yup.”

Laura sighs. Everyone knows that Derek has a mark, he’s had one since they moved back to Beacon Hills, but he doesn’t like showing it or even talking about it, other than the one time he told her that he’d finally gotten his mark.

Laura sighs, “I’m so sorry, Stiles.”

He shrugs, “Yeah well, it is what it is. But that’s not why I came here.”

Laura barely stops her jaw from snapping open, one of the worst things on this planets happened to him and the boy wants to talk about something else. He’s either finally lost his mind or it’s a whack plan to set things straight.

“Oh? What did you want to talk about?”

Stiles shrugs, “I read this thing yesterday. when I got the mark, I couldn’t just wring my hands and cry about it right? So an older version of your uncle’s bestiary has mentions of a ritual that only werewolves can do to exchange marks.”

So whack plan it is. Laura interjects, “Stiles what the hell are you talking about? How can someone tempt fate like that? Also, why would I take my brother’s mark on my self? That’s so many levels of gross and weird.”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, I-”

The thing about the Hale mansion is that after years of use and the god awful fire, the house creaks and rattles with even the smallest wind. So Laura has trained herself to file little noises inside the house away. But she should know better by now. In giving Stiles her full attention, she didn’t keep an ear out for Derek.

And now her younger brother is standing at the door in front of them.

Stiles lets out a faint choking sound, “H-hey Derek, fancy seeing you here.”

Derek growls, “This is my house.”

Stiles laughs like he’s at a polite office party, “Just uh- How much of that did you here?”

Derek grits his jaw, “You don’t want my mark.”

Stiles bobbles his head, “Well, no- but. I- Look Derek, it’s been 3 years since my 20th birthday. I’ve made my peace with being alone and I don’t want to come in the way of you and whoever it is that you have. So it’s a spell that I’ve read. Any werewolf can do it and I then we can exchange names. So I was thinking that I could get the person with your soul mark to switch with me and the both of you can-”

Derek growls again, “No.”

Stiles stutter, “-get togethe- or no. right. Sure. Uh, What exactly, does that mean? No? Like I can’t give your name to your mark, or…?”

Derek sighs, “Give me my mark.”

“Huh?”, Laura knows better to get in the way of, what ever the hell this is, but Derek’s response is entirely unexpected.

 Stiles holds up a finger, “I’m sorry, but what now? You want your own name… as your mark? Isn’t that a bit vain?”

Derek growls and Stiles quickly amends, with his hands tucked inside the collar of his shirt, “Not that there’s anything wrong with being vain. Late-stage capitalism ya’ know, everyone’s on their own...”

Stiles’ voice peters out under Derek’s stern gaze.

Derek grumbles, “There’s nothing wrong with taking my name back. I’ll finally be able to do my own thing and you’ll be fine, the person with my name is some old polish dude. You’ll be rid of him sooner or later.”

Stiles nods jerkily, “Yeah, right. That- It makes sense.”

Laura gets up. She doesn’t want to do this at all. She trusts Stiles with her life and seeing Derek give that up, it breaks her heart. But it’s his life and his choice, she doesn’t want to come in his way.

“Right so what am I supposed to do?”

Stiles startles like he’d forgotten that she was even there, “You don’t need to be here for this lulu, we can manage on our own.”

She sighs and walks out of the den, she’s too tired to nag Stiles about the nickname.

oOo

Stiles holds his arm out to Derek, his sleeves fall back and Derek sees his name written in a neat freshly-dried inky script.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Stiles replies in a whisper and the gravity of the situation dawns on Derek, “Where do you have your mark?"

“On my leg.”

“Okay.” Stiles slides a chair towards him, “put your leg here and roll your pant up.”

Derek does as he’s told while the younger man busies himself with pulling out the photocopy of the tome his uncle had compiled.

“Now what?”

Stiles nods and looks up from his book, “It’s a little awkward, but we have to make our marks touch and-”

Stiles stops short of touching Derek’s leg with his forearm and Derek growls out, “What?”

He knows that the name is funny. He’s spent years on the internet looking for someone with that name and trying to understand the meaning of the name.

“I- That’s mine.”

Derek huffs, “Yes, that’s going to be yours when we switch. You seem to care much more about this then you let on.”

Derek can’t help but get irritated. Stiles wanted nothing more than to get rid of Derek’s name, he was willing to pawn it off to some stranger, but this god-awful key smash of a name is making his sappy?

Stiles looks up at him, “No, I- That’s me. I’m Mieczyslaw Stilinski.”

Derek huffs, “Oh.”

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 116: The Eye of the Snake

No one even had the chance to scream as they all landed in a very small room, but instead watched the transformation happen in reverse in rapid succession. Moony had barely gotten to his feet before Remus stood in place, and that only lasted long enough for his eyes to roll back into his head and he fell to the floor, unconscious and naked. The other two animals vanished with much less fanfare, a little pop and only one was left.

Peter rolled off the bed he hadn't even registered he'd been on, blanket in hand to cover him, while all eyes instead turned to the still whimpering dog splayed out on the floor in a puddle of black and red.

Not an ear had been saved from his cries in those echoing mountains, even Alice who hadn't dared turn on a light once she'd been able to go no further in the disturbingly small cave.

James was already knelt over him, speaking fervently the spells they usually used on Moony until his high-pitched keening finally subsided, eyes still half-lidded. Too in pain from the burning wounds to get comfortable to sleep, too exhausted to even take in this new place.

Prongs sat on the ground to pull and rearrange gently so that Padfoot's large head was cushioned on his thigh, sprawled out on his lap and still halfheartedly whimpering. "Everyone's okay, don't worry," he crooned as if to an infant, one hand kneading gently at the scruff of his neck, the other tucking away his wand and turning a gentle palm over his spine and down his legs to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Finally his heavy breathing evened out, but James still winced and held him tighter as his hand came away covered in so much blood.

He'd healed the gashes and mended the broken bones, even the internal damage should have sown itself back together, but he did not know the spell to help with blood loss or even if there was one other than a potion they had no hopes of getting the ingredients for. They'd only ever learned enough to help ease Remus of the worst of it until Madam Pomfrey arrived, and despite the dangers of running with a werewolf, only a few bites and scrapes ever came of it as he never had any interest in fighting them for dominance, let alone trying to eat them. Nothing ever this serious.

He snorted softly at his own train of thought, letting his hand rest gently against the beating heart. He'd be alright, he had to be. He'd sleep it off, they'd get some food into him and Alice, everyone would be fine, they just had to survive this.

"How long will he have to, be like that?" James looked up in surprise, his eyes finally taking in where exactly they were, and his heart thudding for a moment in shock as he realized it was just Regulus in front of him, wide-eyed and curious once more.

"Um, probably should be for a day or so," he answered, distracted as he looked around properly. A large queen-sized bed dominated the room, a thick, crochet blanket still clung to the foot of the bed that Peter was eyeing like he wanted to rip that off too, the quilt covering Moony also looked homespun. A pair of thin, wire-framed glasses sat on the table behind him, and the black book rested on the opposite nightstand, but otherwise there didn't seem much décor to speak of. "A lot of saliva got into the wounds-" he stopped and winced heavily, that was going to burn worse than the original wounds, not to mention scar. "Just, better safe than sorry, he'll work it out of his system and be back to normal in no time. So long as he stays Padfoot, there won't be any problems."

Regulus didn't seem to question any of this, but instead reached his hand out tentatively, brushing his fingers across the crown of his skull. The dog's thick fur felt surprisingly soft. Lupin had said they helped like he'd never believe, and damn if that didn't make more sense than ever right now... "Where did everyone else go?" Potter asked, his eyes on the open door behind him.

"Alice was hoping to find a bathroom, said something about a potions kit if they were lucky, but it leads into a scullery. I don't know more than that." Longbottom had been limping and she'd been anxious to mend that, werewolf in his vicinity or not. Evans had hovered and kept watching Potter, but she'd backed out of the room. He hadn't been able to do more than turn his head slightly to see it all, eyes still trained on his brother.

James sighed, they probably should check that out just to be safe. The last thing they needed was yet another surprise in some stranger's house. Gently nudging until Padfoot was off his lap and apologizing quietly as the soft whimpers started up again, he went over to Peter and grabbed Moony's feet in the burrito of blankets he was still in, the dried blood on it already covering Peter's own spells to heal the damage done to his leg. Peter supported under his arms as they got him onto the bed, and then the two repeated this on Padfoot. He did awaken, stirring and huffing, but a few gentle words calmed him and his bright gray eyes lit with understanding, as he went slack in their grip until the mattress was beneath him. They watched as he nuzzled up against Remus's legs and curled into a ball still trembling slightly, Peter finally taking the quilt and throwing it over him before joining the other two at the door, but leaving it open behind them, just in case.

The washroom at least didn't seem very threatening. There was a bathroom door ajar, but his eyes focused on the stack of freshly laundered wizard's robes sitting in a wicker basket, and James peeked into the cupboard above this to find several threadbare pants and shirts. He dug around for a moment before selecting one of each that should fit Remus, then shrugged and went through them again looking for some for himself. There seemed to be a bit of a variety to his surprise, and wondered how many people lived here. He set those aside for now to keep going though.

The answer came when he followed the two into a very familiar kitchen. He'd only been in it once, but it had been a memorable experience.

"Oh good, you stayed awake," Alice called from the stove. She didn't have the red hair, but she easily reminded him of Mrs. Weasley, the amount of times he'd pictured her here in her home turf.

"Was too keyed up," he admitted, but even to his own ears his voice dragged a bit. They'd only been awake two hours at best since their last lie down, but the night caused a bone-deep weariness in him like they'd just spent a whole twenty-four hours dealing with Moony again.

"Here then," Lily got up from the table and offered him a plate covered with sausages already half-drowned in syrup. "I'm sure they won't mind," she added with a smile.

A real, genuine, one could almost call it teasing smile. His brain shut down. His stomach sent a sizzling sensation tracing through every nerve ending in his body. "I, um," he took the offered plate on autopilot looking her dead in the eye, and she let the smile linger as she went back to the table, sitting back down next to Frank as she went back to her fried potatoes and tomatoes.

Silence hung in the kitchen for several long moments as he stood there like he'd been clubbed over the head. Peter and Regulus went forward and began helping themselves to the feast and had dug in for several moments and he still hadn't moved. Peter bit into his eggs with a little too much gusto to stop himself from laughing. Remus and Sirius were going to die they'd missed this. He cleared his throat and directed at anyone who would answer, "so, since when can we leave the room we landed?"

"We could back in the Divination classroom from Trelawney's office," Regulus kindly reminded, but they'd had a lot going on during that time, so he wasn't surprised this detail hadn't been acknowledged in a while. "Maybe we could even before that, but none of us tried to get back inside the Dursleys' home." He was personally glad nobody had tried in Grimmauld place either, someone probably would have died if they'd tried traversing that whole house at once.

"No one tried to leave the Gryffindor dorms to see if we could go into the common room," Alice added. She was kicking herself a bit she hadn't realized the Dursleys' one specifically, her foot had been hanging out of the cat-flap door to Harry's room and she hadn't thought of trying to get the rest of herself out by just opening it?

Frank's eyes glazed over in thought for a moment before saying, "maybe we even could have left the locker rooms to go onto the Quidditch pitch, but I wonder if we couldn't still go beyond that. We can go up the staircase here, but only into Percy's room, none of the others."

"I can't help but wonder if it's because Charlie's room was given to a sibling we haven't gotten tossed into yet," Lily sighed.

"We still can't even get into their living room or the yard, so we still seem pretty confined, it's just slowly getting better," Frank shrugged.

"I'll take that," Lily said in delight.

"Molly does have a potions kit by the way," Alice added in kindly, scraping the last of the bacon onto a plate and bringing that to the table before digging in herself. James still hadn't moved. "I'm not surprised really she'd keep something like that on hand, with all these boys here. There were quite a few things in there Lily and Frank seemed excited over."

"Ditany," Frank nodded seriously.

"Some bubotuber pus," Lily stated.

"A bit of Wiggenweld Potion," Frank added.

"And some blood restorative," Alice finished, taking a hearty bite of a bacon and egg sandwich she'd put together. Clearly she spoke of that one from experience.

"We'll probably just have to nick the lot," Frank winced in shame for admitting this, even as he patted the little white box and cast Alice a smile of no regrets.

"We'll definitely find some way to pay them back if, you know, if it's actually gone or something for real in their time, or whatever," Lily stated in no uncertain terms for the wonky sentence.

"Great," James finally snapped out of his reverie, but then set the plate on the counter even as he still hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "I should, probably give that to them now, they'll sleep even better."

She nodded without surprise, going back to eating her food with far more investment than should really be needed as she gave it a little push in his direction.

Peter stuffed one last bite of eggs into his mouth and followed him, stopping to pick up the clothes left out, James coming in with the tiny vial of blue potion, still full from someone having the forethought already to use a refill charm on it.

The four left in the kitchen didn't break the silence, not yet, as they all reflected how different things felt from the last time they'd been here.

It was hard to tell if the kitchen felt the same impact. Despite the fact that it was still night outside, it was blitheringly obvious this wasn't the same night they'd just left, let alone the day they'd been here last, yet nothing of consequence had changed that they could see. The clock with the Weasley's hands was still drifting aimlessly, the drawers were still overpacked with the same muggle paraphernalia. None of it yet answered the much less pressing question of how much they impacted each environment when they left it.

They weren't really surprised when the Marauders didn't come back, but none of them felt like trying to fall asleep either. Lily finally got up and snagged that deck of cards off the counter, the self-shuffling charm must have worn off, because she began shuffling them and asking if anyone wanted to play a game.

"I've never heard of it," Regulus whispered quietly.

"Neither have I," Frank shrugged, helping Alice to stack up some plates and lead them to the sink which began cleaning them at once.

"I can teach you, it's really simple," she promised, and nobody argued after that.

Lily was the only one who spoke as she explained the game to the three of them, but they were all smiling just a bit at the mostly luck-based structure after only one practice hand and three real rounds. It only took five though before Frank was trying to stifle a yawn, and Alice was quick to make an excuse.

"Neither of you are tired yet?" She still confirmed.

"Not even a little bit," Lily shrugged.

"Nah," Regulus frowned, all thumbs as he tried shuffling the deck again, but it scattered across the table as his bridge collapsed. He couldn't even blame it on an injury, they'd kindly dabbed Wiggenweld Potion onto his sore fingers. His face puckered, but he leaned forward and quickly began pulling them all back to him to try again.

"Well, we're going to borrow Percy's bed for a bit then," she only barely blushed at saying this so casually, but they'd been doing it for practically this whole trip so most of the embarrassment had subsided long before now.

"Alright then," Lily did look up at them with clear curiosity, Alice didn't sound even the least bit sleepy, but offered her hand to Regulus to show him how to do it again instead of saying anything.

He handed it over wordlessly and watched her every move as she shuffled in slow motion.

The two held hands up the narrow staircase up to the second floor, slipping into Percy's room properly now, when they'd only opened the door before just to check if it would.

Here, it seemed, finally was some sort of answer that their passing through didn't have an affect. The bed was still properly made, when she knew for a fact they'd left the blankets in disarray from their springing upon it, and the bottle of ink Sirius had knocked over looked untouched. There was even more thick dust upon every surface.

One could argue somebody had just straightened up and abandoned the place again, but it was hard to fathom a motive for any of the Weasleys' doing so. They both had to cast Tergeo several times to get the room any kind of bearable, let alone sleep in without sneezing their noses off, but as the two crawled under the covers, Frank whispered in her ear, "I was faking that yawning you know."

Alice laughed in surprise as she nestled against his chest. "No, I hadn't suspected you of that." She ran the tips of her fingers across his palm for a few moments before whispering, "that's the first thing you've really said since we landed here."

Frank kissed her temple as he mulled over how to answer her. "I suppose I'd never stopped to consider, why exactly, those guys went and did something so wildly dangerous and illegal themselves to hang around a werewolf. I was more stuck on the man-eating monster bit to, ah, see the other aspects."

He grasped her fingers to get her to stop, that was starting to tickle. "I saw it out there though," he breathed into her ear, "what you and Lily seemed to instantly get. They care for each other, they'd die for each other, Sirius Black really was going to die to stop Lupin from getting to me." It should have been obvious long before now, but he really would admit now his prejudices had kept him pretty narrow minded on this. It wasn't Lupin's fault, he didn't want to hurt any of them, and those three Marauders knew that, everyone had figured that out before him. "Remus," he corrected, deciding if going through all that hadn't put them on first-name terms he didn't know what could.

She shivered at the idea of how close that must have been for him to have had such a good picture. The story had been easy enough to piece together, why else but her boyfriend bleeding would Padfoot have to restrain him with such ferocity? She hadn't exactly wanted details though. "I thought he was dying out there," she hadn't wanted to admit this, afraid it would only make him hate Remus more telling how close she'd been to him as well in such a dangerous time, but now she admitted, "he just looked, so in pain, right before," she stopped with another shiver at just the idea of having to go through something like that once a month. Then the heart wrenching cry of the animal, she'd been convinced Sirius Black was dying on the other side of that log barrier keeping the werewolf away and she'd done nothing to help.

Frank shivered with her, but then instantly relaxed and just held her tighter. "I don't think Lily was kidding about trying to invent that Wolfsbane potion even earlier," he added on.

"No, I'd imagine she wasn't," she could hear the grin in his voice. She still held tight to him as guilt warred with practicality. She couldn't deny anymore Frank hadn't been all wrong either, they really could find themselves in 'Moony's' vicinity again at any time, but there must be some better option out there than his mates constantly taking a beating for them every time.

"Might help her with that," he muttered, thinking he definitely owed the guy more of an apology than that, but it was at least a start.

Lily and Regulus were both very much aware this was the most time they'd spent around each other period. There was no peril to avoid, no book to read, they were simply trapped in this room with only each other for company and a deck of cards.

The game simply gave their hands something to do, and they did have to concentrate on it a bit, but the awkward silence started to wane as Regulus really got the hang of it. By the tenth hand he was shuffling with moderate success and dealing out the cards like he'd done it countless times, and by the eleventh the two started to realize they may both have a bit of a competitive streak.

Regulus was finally the one to break the long stretch of silence as he managed to beat her for the first time, and her response was to sigh she shouldn't have taught him that move. "Who taught you how to play this?" He hoped his voice wasn't as stiff as it sounded to his own ears, and that she wouldn't realize same as him this was the first time he'd tried talking to a muggle-born.

Though technically, he had no idea what Peter's blood status was. He'd admitted once already he'd never met his father, and though he hadn't outright said it Regulus had sussed out from his home and a few lapses in knowledge of wizarding society over their talks his mother was a Muggle, so he was as good as a muggle-born in some people's eyes. He just didn't want to be one of those people anymore.

"My mum," she smiled at the memory, while doing several extra shuffles of the deck to make sure she didn't get that hand again. "My sister got very bored with it and didn't want to stay past the second time, so it became a thing with me and her, we'd play for hours," as she dealt out the next hand.

He found himself completely fascinated at nearly everything she'd just said. He wasn't unaware she had a sister, that Petunia Dursley deserved a far worse word than mudblood thrown at her, plus he still remembered that boggart they'd come across, but it was the way she spoke about her in past tense, like he kept thinking about Sirius.

There was also the fact that she'd done such a thing as play a game with her mum, did all parents do that, or was it a Muggle thing?

He thought over his words as he collected the new cards, but didn't think there was anything offensive in them. Still, he spoke cautiously as he arranged his hand, waiting for her to give him a dirty look any second so he would stop and not ruin this. "Me and Sirius used to play Three Brothers, but not since we were a lot younger, he hadn't even started being an arse yet if you can believe it."

The cheek had not been the part of that he was concerned with sharing, but to his disbelief she actually giggled.

He sat there just staring at her despite the fact that it was his turn. He kept waiting for something to happen, but even he wasn't quite sure what. He'd never asked why you shouldn't hang around muggle-borns.

"What's Three Brothers?" She asked.

"It's a kids' story," he paused and chewed on his cheek for only a moment, but it was ridiculous at this point to even let the thought flutter about her learning something to do with wizards as he finally went and the pattern continued. "There's these three objects these brothers won from death, and when you have them all, you'd be master of death. A stone that lets you see the dead, a wand that can't be beat, and a cloak that repels any spell. When Sirius read it to me, we went on a quest about the house, looking for them. In the attic, all the spare rooms, you name it."

Lily was baffled something so lighthearted could have taken place in that miserable home, but then she wasn't more sure if she was disappointed, or unsurprised when he finished, "we eventually nicked father's wand, and he grounded us for a week for doing something so silly. Sirius doesn't like playing games with me much since."

His smile was childishly delighted as he won the hand again, it was hard to believe this was the same lad simply sitting here chatting with her when he'd once laughed at the most degrading of insults right in front of her.

He'd never outright called her that though, never really bothered to speak to her at all anymore than she had him. It was not lost on her as he now shuffled for a new game with ease that they'd all been rather stuck in their ways.

Alice and Frank really had dozed off, but only for an hour or two for a nap, when they came back down they saw Regulus and Lily were still at it, and a scorecard had been produced at some point. They'd won a pretty equal amount of times, and both seemed convinced they were going to trump the other eventually, but they spoke to each other with casual ease as they recalled what had happened at Slughorn's last party.

"The boys still out?" Alice felt bad for interrupting, but she was starting to get worried. How long were they supposed to sleep that kind of thing off before someone checked on them?

"Yeah," Regulus said casually enough. His sharp eyes missed nothing as he played his next card but kept the door to the scullery in his periphery.

"I think this is a common thing though," Lily added, her voice trying for casual, and failing. "I mean, Lupin does miss classes quite a lot, we all knew that, and those guys make up excuses for him all the time, so they probably know better than us."

"Did you want back in the game?" Regulus asked, and Frank wondered if it was his imagination some of the stiffness had left his voice.

"Sure," they both agreed.

The four whittled away at least another hour at it, until Alice finally convinced the two with a mild insanity problem they could call it even, and went to make some more breakfast, as all the ingredients were ready about the kitchen instead of hoping she could get into the Weasleys' cellar. By then though they were all growing restless and obviously watching the door.

"I'll go try and wake them up," Regulus finally volunteered what they were all thinking. "If they try to kill me, just know, I would have won eventually," he finished with a leveled look at Evans, who just smirked and pocketed the deck.

He pushed the door open quietly to find them all piled onto the bed. Sirius, err, the dog, Padfoot?, was now stretched out almost comfortably with his head across Peter's chest and feet digging into Potter's back, his own furry behind right on Lupin's nose that was not causing him to miss a beat of snoring. He sucked on his cheek for a moment debating how to do this, before finally deciding Peter was the least likely to sock him in the face on any given occasion, let alone being woken up.

He eased up and gently tapped him on the shoulder, but it wasn't his voice who said, "going to take more than that to get them up."

He made a very undignified squeal of surprise that should have woken up the whole house as he watched Potter. His eyes hadn't opened, he didn't even seem to have moved, but when he frowned around at the others again he realized it was the truth. Peter had merely grumbled and twitched but kept on snoring, and Sirius and Lupin hadn't even done that.

When he looked at Potter again his eyes were blinking hazily open, rubbing his knuckles into them and finally shifting to get up. He grabbed Arthur's glasses by mistake, went cross-eyed, and then finally stretched as he eyed Regulus wearily fixing his own in place. "How long we been out?"

"Couple hours, five maybe," he shrugged, none of them had been wearing a watch when this happened, and they weren't even sure it would have worked regardless.

"That's it?" His face scrunched up with displeasure. "Oh we're doomed, Moony's been out for two or three days after a night like that." Then he paused and assessed the lot, and glanced out the window as he reconsidered, "but, he also wasn't changed for nearly as long as usual, so we might get lucky and not have to set the house on fire."

"I'm sure the Weasley's would appreciate that," he nodded, eyeing the giant black shape curiously once more.

"Any food?" James cut in, and Regulus dragged his eyes back away from his furry brother but merely shrugged. Then he seemed to take the hint, and finally left.

James rubbed his eyes for a few more moments, but thankfully the tempting sounds of sizzling meat already had Padfoot and Peter's nose twitching to life. Maybe this process would have been easier if they were all Hufflepuffs instead.

Regulus hadn't been all wrong going after Peter first, only a few pointed prods and shakes with the promise of breakfast and he was rolling out of bed with some unintelligible grumbling before stomping off. Padfoot was usually more difficult, but his tail was thumping in excitement as he stretched instead before James even had to say anything, the food probably smelt even better to him like that.

"Ahah," he quickly scolded when he recognized the other way he was stretching, about to change back. "You are not to change back for twenty-four hours mister."

The dog huffed, and Regulus couldn't help but agree. "How exactly are you going to enforce that?"

Potter whirled on the spot to scowl at him, clearly annoyed he was still hanging around, but he was just too curious to pass up seeing Sirius like this.

"Fine then," he turned back, "until we finish this book."

Sirius huffed again, and Regulus laughed to realize he still recognized that gleam of challenge in his brother's eye. "I imagine that won't be any easier to stop him talking that long."

Potter threw his hands in the air in frustration before turning to him and snapping, "can I help you?"

"No," Regulus shrugged, "just watching."

"Well I'm so glad you're enjoying the show," he grumbled, turning back to Padfoot with actual sternness in his voice that surprised him, he really hadn't thought Potter had it in him. "I mean it Padfoot, you do not change back until I say so, you got really messed up, and I want you to wait. Better safe than sorry."

His brother finally let out a huge bursting sigh, but nodded and hopped off the bed still on all fours. He reared up and snagged the book on his way out, tail held jauntily in the air with an odd bit of smugness Regulus couldn't guess at. Did he think he could read that while barking at them?

The two walked into the kitchen amongst several odd stares, but Peter explained before he could while making a plate, "James wants him to wait, better safe than sorry."

It wasn't so funny anymore hearing them both say the same thing back to back in the exact same weary tone.

"Okay," Alice drew the word out a bit, but finally set up a plate, hesitated a moment, and just put it on the floor. Padfoot pounced on it and was licking the plate clean in moments, but in fairness, he did that even when he didn't have that kind of tongue just to annoy people.

The bathroom in the scullery was only a toilet, sink, and medicine cabinet, so sadly nobody got a shower this time, but Remus considered that a good thing as he shuffled along, James probably would have followed him in there as he stayed right behind him. It was a miracle he didn't have his hand on his back like an invalid.

He'd blindly dumped half a jar of brown sugar onto his eggs and scarfed down those before finally some real life began to stir in him, and he blinked around in confusion muttering, "how are we back in the Weasleys' kitchen?"

"Magic Moony, keep up," Peter snickered as he dumped yet more ketchup across his eggs, the plate looked more like a bloody mess than the werewolf's.

James properly explained their new theory, and by then everyone had finally slowed in their eating, if not stopped altogether.

Remus had nothing to argue against any of that as he scraped his fork uneasily across his plate for a moment before finally putting his dishes away and going over to Padfoot to fetch the book. He figured people were going to be glaring at him regardless from now on, may as well pretend in his own head it was at that.

Padfoot had been waiting for just such a thing, and quickly snagged up the book he'd kept under him while eating, and took off to the opposite side of the kitchen. "Oh no, we are not doing this again!" His face was almost luminescent pale, despite the sleep and food he still seemed only passably functional, but there was a genuine smile on his face as he effed his own words and started after him.

The game didn't last long, no one was in doubt Padfoot was going easy on him and let himself be cornered after only one romp around the kitchen, but finally Remus bent down and grabbed the book. Even Sirius didn't dare play tug of war with such a precious thing as their escape, and he let the slightly soggy mess splat to the ground.

"You're disgusting," Remus told him pleasantly.

The dog barked a laugh, did a little spin on the spot, and then went over to plop down in front of the still hot stove. He was still smiling as he eased back to the table and almost forgot to tense up at putting all attention on him as he read, "The Eye of the Snake."

"Oh great, what does Malfoy do to annoy him now," Regulus huffed under his breath. He'd already gotten Harry kicked off the quidditch team, a grievous insult that even he would have decked his fellow student for. Malfoy had been a sore loser from the beginning and even this was still a new low.

"Erm," Frank surprised them all by clearing his throat, and almost meeting Lupin's eyes without flinching. "I'm ah, curious, but um, how do you, I mean, what do you remember, well, we can't read when we're not all awake, so-"

"Well, technically, he is awake," Potter stated, eyeing him oddly, his tone much more sarcastic than waspish, but Longbottom had sounded nothing but curious, so he was trying to restrain himself.

"I remember," Remus answered much more quietly but sincerely, eyes twitching to a few more bits of toast left, to Frank, to the book like he couldn't decide what to address. "Hagrid came back and told where he'd been, Umbridge was an arse. The details are fuzzy and vague, but," he shrugged and finally settled on telling the book he remembered what had transgressed, fighting back the urge to scream as the pain had been the most clear in his head, and Padfoot wouldn't have had to restrain him like that except for the worst of reasons. Something had nearly gone very wrong, he hadn't needed James to tell him that.

He decided against elaborating that he did remember things better when he'd eaten, he didn't think Longbottom would want to know that. It had only happened a few times anyways, he'd come across a few predators that met Moony's liking, like a blood-sucking bugbear or even an acromantula that was only human-sized, more for the challenge and then eating the kill for victory rather than actually having a taste for it. They all knew what Moony really had a craving for.

Nobody interrupted him again as he started, the trio worrying about Hagrid's coming lessons and the range of possibilities of how he'd get fired for basically anything he brought to class.

The lesson turned out to be fantastic though, as it went over Thestrals.

"I've heard of those!" Remus exclaimed with the most energy yet, though really it was a miracle that amount of sugar he'd ingested hadn't done that already. "My dad's mentioned them, you can only see them if you've seen death."

His grin slipped away though as he muttered, "oh," in surprise, now eyeing Peter and Longbottom.

"Guess your dad never actually described them as creepy, skeleton, horse-looking things," Peter sighed.

"Nope, he's just mentioned them in passing. Ah, sorry, again," he finished sheepishly.

Peter just shrugged and helped himself to more juice. He'd never held anything against his friends, he wasn't going to start with that. A part of him still remembered how resentful he'd been feeling right before his catastrophe of a future was spelled out, and he'd spent many an alone hour worrying how that had built up and turned him into someone who could do that to James.

"Who did you see die?" Regulus blurted in surprise.

James twitched like he wanted to reach across the table and slap the idiot on the neck, even Padfoot huffed and eyed the heel of his brother's shoe with temptation and they all suddenly realized what a bad idea having him run around with available sharp teeth was.

Peter didn't seem bothered by it though, answering casually enough, "my Uncle Pierce*. He'd been sickly for ages and bedridden for that week, Mum told me not to go in there, but I did, guess it was just bad timing I happened to be watching him when he, you know, wasn't sleeping anymore. I was ten," he finished with a casual shrug that he hoped hid well how he'd come blubbering into the living room to his mother about his Uncle starting to look funny.

His friends had heard this before, but Remus still felt like an idiot and was kicking himself as he kept going he'd never put that together as he eagerly read the descriptions of them again and all of Hagrid's fun facts.

Alice laid her hand on Frank's, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles with a silent question, but he merely answered by kissing hers in return and turning quietly to ask Lily if she wanted to play that card game again. He'd tell her, just maybe not now, she already had a dislike for his mum and this probably wouldn't make things better.

Lily had barely gotten the cards clear from her pocket though when everyone really was scowling at the book in Lupin's hands just like he'd wanted as Umbridge arrived, and made even more of an arse of herself than usual.

"That woman has no bounds," Lily seethed, nearly crumpling the queen of hearts up in her fist before correcting herself.

"Can hardly believe someone so bloody awful exists, treating him like that in his own class, and we've been living with You-Know-Who murdering people by the day in our Daily Prophet," Alice agreed with quiet ferocity.

Frank just winced, but not for the reason everyone but Alice assumed. He now thought himself being just as bad as her, the way he'd treated Lupin, but certainly wasn't sympathizing with her like Potter's glare insinuated. He wanted to correct him, but the words 'I don't think your friend wants to eat me anymore' sounded obtuse to his own ears.

Their terse mutters and grumbles weren't making this better though, so Lily offered offhand and absolutely casual if Pettigrew and Potter wanted to be dealt in.

Peter agreed, he'd even heard of the game they'd been playing, but James opted out and tipped the chair back, rocking it casually as he watched everyone, especially her, with open interest once more. He still didn't know what she meant by it, that plate of food from before his nap, nor just casually speaking in his direction at all! It's not like he expected her gratitude at protecting her out there, he'd do it for anyone for Moony's sake.

It killed something inside of him to even turn down this offer and enjoy her attention freely, surely they could even partner up on whatever this game was, but Remus was already shuffling uncomfortably at having put himself the center of attention like the idiot they knew he was, but he'd been as aware as Padfoot he was going to do this to himself just to prove how normal he was when he woke up. At least him not playing along didn't make Remus feel so singled out. That didn't mean he wasn't slightly tempted to push the idiot out of the chair and have him sit on the floor with Padfoot, all attention would be off him anyways, win win for everyone-

Regulus had eaten no less than half the loaf of bread with just butter and cinnamon, and soon began regretting it as his stomach swirled when the pleasant DA lesson ended and the book spiraled into territory he'd certainly never expected this to go in, and was clearly the only one. Everyone around him was laughing and tittering softly about Harry's first kiss with Cho, when Regulus had dropped half his hand in surprise.

The good mood wasn't meant to last in anyone as Harry went off to bed, and his thoughts weren't able to linger on girls much longer at the following nightmare.

Potter tipped his chair over in surprise, Padfoot jumped to his feet, hackles raised but no snakes to fight off in here, the rest of them stayed still as statues when Arthur Weasley was attacked, and in the deadly silence that followed as McGonagall arrived for Harry, Remus loathed finishing the last sentence as he looked one more time around the homey kitchen with dread, he wasn't the only one wondering if they'd ever come back here again.

HPHPHPHP

*Do I in fact imagine that Pierce Polkiss may be a Jr., and is some relative of Peter's, considering they're both described with a rat like face? Yes, yes I do.

[thecosmicsen]

🎂  happy belated birthday month to fellow ghosty boy,  aka the soft boy Jaewoo is stuck to in any AU,  the one and only @phantombs​  !  🎂

*  :  ✮ ┆   the one in which they both bond with the afterlife  .

call it the synchronisation of two backgrounds harmonising that cultivated this very moment of Jaewoo enthusiastically bursting through Cường’s front door.  the trust that Cường has in him to provide key access speaks volumes of unfathomable confidence despite the striking contrasts between what the two deem as amicable greetings.  typically,  Jaewoo is akin to a sudden blast of nippy wind that tends to slap someone across the face with its sharp stinging icy breeze whereas Cường is the type to snore through category five typhoons.  this indisputable fact about the elder male is what provides Jaewoo with the brazen guts to invade his home so unabashedly since he knows that nothing will stir the unconscious figure.  as according to plan.

detecting the lump in the midst of the blankets,  Jaewoo now enters stealth mode as he navigates his way around the bedroom.  setting down the canister of helium with a slightly louder thunk,  he sucks in his cheeks in horror as he tersely waits to see if it elicits a stir or two out of Cường.  it doesn’t.  with a smug sense of achievement,  he proceeds with the first step of filling up confetti-filled balloons so he can robustly tie them in batches of three with blue ribbons.  what the true finishing touch is the polaroids of the abundant pictures he has taken of Cường over the span of time they have spent together.  besides the absolutely candid shots varying from Cường overlooking the speckles of freshly budded cherry blossoms to him randomly snoozing in an upright position on the park bench,  the polaroids consist of vintage filtered memory snapshots ranging from . . . 

one.  tiny coffee puddles lingering at the bottom of almost emptied mugs.  licked up cupcake crumbs.  overcast cherry blossom shadows merging with the tabletop.  the lining of plush armchairs overlooking the open cafe balcony.  pink-tinged cheeks from the open breeze.  a slumped over snoozing figure,  his mouth slightly agape as he snugly fits in the width of his chair.  it’s ironic really,  sleeping right after a caffeine dose  ?  classic Cường.

two.  rain-streaked panels.  the lazy streaks of dusk filtering through clearing horizons.  idly bustling of Cường’s back faced to him as he gently rifles through his collection of mugs.  thick woolly covered socks perched up together.  a low hum of a cheery tune.  the cheeky grin he flashes when Cường turns around with the familiar scolding look.  “  you’re going to be chilled to the bone,  wrap up the blanket tighter around yourself.  ”  the elder male warns him and he obliges.  

three.  dusted piano keys.  a pair of hands gliding across the ivory.  the other pair patiently listening,  and listening,  and listening.  time stands still in the air,  the concept being sapped away between the gaps of the keys as Cường plays the tunes of a piece so bittersweet.  reminiscing curls his lips downwards until Cường gently grabs hold of his hand and gingerly swaps it with his own.  “  learn to play with me,  ”  he jerks Jaewoo out of his transfixed spiralling stance that threatens to plunge him into a nostalgic dimension. 

four.  flash.  flash.  flash.  another piercing flash.  it washes him out,  bringing out the sallow side of his physical manifestation.  he’s suddenly very self-conscious.  all he is doing is walking along the river,  breeze tickling through his hair.  the only person he notices is Cường with his mobile phone pointed in his direction.  “  wait,  I’m not ready for a picture.  ”  Jaewoo protests,  immediately raising his hand up into a peace sign with a chirpy grin.  Cường snaps a few more before shaking his head,  a fond smile taking over.  “  you silly boy,  does the sun ever need to prepare its shining brightness  ?  nor do you.  ”

five.  buzzing electric hums crackle.  indignant yells from preteens cause a crease between Cường’s brows.  blaring beeps and glowing neon signs cram up any leftover space in the arcade.  they promise many bountiful rewards.  get your hands dirty,  you might win an oversized stuffed narwhale.  Jaewoo rubs his hands gleefully,  akin to a persistent fly about to dig into a tasty feast.  “  I know just the thing you need on the days you sleep for fourteen hours.  ”  pivoting to the flashiest claw machine with Line characters packed like sardines,  he eagerly hunches over with his tongue sticking out in concentration.  he will win this.  inserting his leftover cash in enthusiastically,  he aims the metallic grip of death to the nearest stuffed bunny.  taking in a noisy deep inhale to quell his adrenaline,  he jabs at the pretentiously gaudy red button for the claws to suffocate the bunny to victory.  it works  !  he didn’t expect it to in full honesty but now he can smugly brandish it to the amused male.  “  let’s call him Lele.  now you will never be alone.  ”

. . .  a shrill whistle sounds from Jaewoo as he clambers towards Cường’s bedroom window.  a hoard of worn out older dogs struggle to float up to the window’s height.  but with the aid of Jaewoo’s awaiting palms,  they are safely directed into the warm haven of Cường’s birthday setup.  what’s left is the lighting of candles and the birthday.  the ghost had considered buying a massive rectangular cake to fit the few hundred candles on it but he reckoned that Cường wouldn’t be up for using all of his lung power on blowing out that many candles so he settled for placing fifty seven instead.  not a jibe to the other’s age at all.  

clapping his hands together,  Jaewoo motions at the expectant dogs to go huddle up against the sleeping figure in bed.  beyond eagerly,  they all contentedly clamber besides Cường as they are familiar with the man and his previous visits to the shelter.  the wholesome sight warms his heart and he hurriedly moves to snap a picture of the cosy sight before Cường can object.  by the looks of it,  he still hasn’t fully stirred from his slumber yet so Jaewoo takes the cue to finally begin the slow singing of the birthday cheer. 

“  happy birthday to you,  happy birthday Choi Cường,  happy birthday to you.  ”  the dogs happily grumble along to Jaewoo’s trilling voice in an unique harmonisation to celebrate the cheer of Cường entering another year of life yet again.  

Cường finally arises with groggy eyes,  hair sticking out in random tufts and incomprehesible noises that only those fully acquainted with deep sleep can fathom.  Jaewoo approaches him with his birthday cake,  eyes glazed with delight.  

“  make a wish !  ”  Jaewoo shoves the cake in front of him and Cường indulges him by huffing out the candles in three goes before tugging him onto the pile of puppies on the bed.  “  please don’t tell me you wished for more sleep.  ”  

alas,  Cường has already fallen back into a half-drowsy state but it’s okay.  the cake can wait.  

*  :  ✮ ┆   the one in which they both bear the weight of the crown  .

huff puff.  huff puff.  huff puff.  look at what lengths the young prince goes to.  it takes a lot of cautious scrambling on the ivy-clad bricks.  it surely would have been a call for an immediate plummet to death. had the prince not been thoroughly experienced with years and years of experience in exiting the castle grounds for invigorating quests for adventures,  he wouldn’t have made it beyond a single ledge.  as lithe as a cat,  he even managed to maintain his hold on a staggering wide window ledge that showcased an approaching candlelight,  presumably one of the many patrolling guards.  security had greatly intensified ever since that eye-opening hectic night of ultimate meetings of meetings.  the only leeway he was able to breakthrough and finally make through the fortress was through months and months of extensive study with the aid of prince Cường’s silent cues on illustrating ways on how the other may keep visiting him in his lonely desolate tower.  

evidently,  the legwork pays off since Jaewoo is able to navigate his way through the labyrinth of tenacious security personnel.  it’s extraordinarily exciting to be going through such leaps and bounds to visit your secret werewolf best friend,  son of the rival kingdom that your family swore an oath against  !  

entirely pleased with himself and his progress,  the young prince proceeds with his voyage to the grand tower window after ensuring with a peep that the patrolling guard has moved on.  he makes a quick mental note of how the fourth floor garrison seem to take around seventy five seconds for a quick sweep before moving on with his cat climb. 

it must have been a nasty shock for Cường to have his grand balcony doors thumped on frantically in the dead of the night.  Jaewoo can faintly make out the startled grunt followed by groggy scuffling towards the set of gold-plated doors.  the sight that Cường is faced with upon opening the doors with hesitance is one straight out of the many books that he’s read with Jaewoo in their more relaxed princely hang out sessions.  the moon crescent gently laminates Jaewoo’s tall and proud silhouette with its sheer pearly luminescence glimmering off the many encrusted jewels on his figure. 

“  prince Cường,  head of all mythical protection,  the defender of deep sleep and all other his realms,  you have officially lived to see and enter another blessed year  !  ”  Jaewoo enthuses,  his eyes dancing wild in delight with his self-perceived inspirational opening.  “  despite the beast inside,  quite literally if I may add,  you have persisted and floated through the face of adversity.  a very very joyful and happy birthday to you.  as my gift to you,  I must insist on you going out with me on this clear mid spring evening.  ”

to be expected,  Cường stares at him incredulously before opening his mouth to come up with a gurgle of excuses ranging from it being too late and the best birthday gift he can give is to have the longest nap.  this is all naturally dismissed by Jaewoo with a wave of hands although he switches up his tactic with pleading beseeching eyes. 

“  I swear in the name of all things that I love,  this will be a minimal effort journey for you,  your highness.  ”  Jaewoo holds his hand on his chest to declare his oath.  “  outside your grounds,  I have brought a sled with a comfortable makeshift that I specially made for you.  please please please.  I shall carry you along the entire time.  you only need to walk the distance to and from your bedroom to outside the grounds but even for that,  I can piggyback you for when we are out of sights from your garrison.  ”  

Cường sighs in defeat,  knowing that it takes far more energy to Jaewoo who doesn’t take no as an answer either way.  the duo had been continuously going out for either one of Jaewoo’s gutsy expeditions in his quest for seeking fantastical legends or heading for a cosy hangout in his secret shed hangout.  so it is a familiar cause-and-effect process that Cường has grudgingly gotten accustomed to.  

soon enough,  the two are bundled up warmly and exit their usual and lesser dangerous route from within the castle instead of dangling off precariously on tower walls.  as they veer near the edge of the perimetres of the castle grounds,  Jaewoo begins to piggyback him as promised.  with Cường’s thick plush cape enveloping his body too,  Jaewoo enthusiastically leaps towards the awaiting royal sled concealed underneath the moss of an oak.  

“  see,  I made it like almost exactly like your real bed which you love to lay in so much  !  “  Jaewoo gingerly lowers down Cường after ensuring every speck of leftover moss is flicked off.  almost immediately,  Cường nestles himself underneath the main heavyweight blanket with his eyes flitting shut which is a sure sign that Jaewoo must have accurately devised a mobile sleeping quarters for the lethargic prince.  with the toothiest grin,  Jaewoo leaves his nap to him in peace before securing the sled to his armour.  

as they traverse through the grounds,  a route that Jaewoo deliberately scoured for its even ground to avoid jilting Cường too much,  the night begins to sink in deeper.  an expert in creating handheld torches,  Jaewoo lights the way for himself and his drowsy reluctant companion through the sweeping grand grounds of eclipsing trees.  thankfully, the destination in mind for the birthday isn’t too far off so much of the night isn’t wasted on the journey time itself.  

they arrive to a clearing that opens up the dull moonlit night with a large lake in sight.  there is already a boat awaiting for them  (  a product of Jaewoo’s meticulous birthday planning  ).  the barely illuminated body of water does not do justice for the usual daytime blue-green depths as the night overcasts its murky shadow.  in fact,  it would have been totally understandable if Cường was to believe that Jaewoo dragged him out in the midst of the night to kill him in this open valley.  ironically,  the birthday boy does reflect similar sentiments as he questions Jaewoo as to why they have come here but he does thank Jaewoo for bringing him out in the open air.  

“  behold my dear friend,  you shall see why I brought you here.  ”  Jaewoo holds out a hand in plea before sticking the burning torch into the ground near the docked boat.  “  I’m going to transfer you to the boat now.  I made it extra comfy for you,  do not fear.  ”   admittedly,  the wooden boat does look slightly shabby from what the torch’s amber lighting shows up.  yet the confines of the boat are layered thick with nothing but fleece plush-lined winter blankets and opulent feather pine-stuffed pillows directly from Jaewoo’s palace.  

transferring Cường to the boat takes no more than a second,  the birthday prince not weighing more than mere grapes to Jaewoo who is amped up on adrenaline.  blowing the touch out,  must to Cường’s skepticism,  he hops into the boat eagerly before grabbing the oars to paddle them out and away from shore.  the atmosphere drastically dips to an eerie cloudless night with not a source of light to be found yet Jaewoo keeps on paddling and paddling and paddling.  

“  what do you bring me here for  ?  ”  Cường questions yet again,  sounding helplessly bewildered.  Jaewoo swats at him.  

“  ssshhh,  you’ll see in a moment.  don’t be too loud now  !  ”  Jaewoo playfully jibes despite being several pitches higher than Cường.  setting the oars now with definitive decisiveness,   he stops paddling as he opts to shoulder another blanket around himself.  “  any moment now . . .  ”

as if just to vehemently rebel against Jaewoo’s words,  the pair are left in the sweeping frigid silence in the enveloping darkness.  the lake is completely still.  the air almost stagnant from its lifelessness.  Jaewoo frets about Cường falling asleep again.  before he can reach out for Cường’s arm to harshly pinch.  it begins to appear.  

the fireflies begin to leisurely appear.  each warm glow emitting slowly one by one until it begins to reflect against the clear lake depths,  stark in its crystal clear glowing luminescence.  it starts off with ten good fireflies darting around until a few hundred more show up to entirely brighten up the entire body of water like one of the radiant lantern festivals celebrated in the kingdom.   some begin to glimmer near the boats which causes a cascading effects of pale yellow to light up all around them.  finally Jaewoo can glimpse the entirety of Cường’s face who looks utterly in awe.  he gently holds a finger out,  witnessing how a firefly immediately beckons to his fingertip.  it warms up the features of his face significantly.  

this once,  Jaewoo remains serenely silent as he soaks in the magical sight of the fireflies and their endless etched out glittery reflection on the still lake’s surface.  glancing back to Cường,  he brings out the hidden sack of pastries so he can gingerly stuff one in his mouth. 

“  happy birthday,  your highness  !  ” 

*  :  ✮ ┆   the one in which they are both reliant on coffee and stacks of books  .

yeah,  birthday,  it's your birthday.  if I die,  bury me inside the Louis store,  they ask me what I do and who I do it for and how I come up with this shit up in the studio.  all I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe  !

it is six in the crisp fresh early morning.  the scatter of April’s cherry blossoms softly breeze past the windows.  in the far off distance,  the blue buses agilely shuttle to their timely scheduled stops.  what is there to greet the overambitious joggers is the bountiful stretching of the clear blue skies and its cheery sunshine companion.  what a landscape of utmost urban tranquility. 

skrr,  skrr,  wrists movin,  cookin',  gettin' to it cookin', I'm in the kitchen,  yams everywhere  !

this lyric accurately reveals where the culprit of the booming bass music is located.  what should be another college boy routine of panicked last minute waking up,  rolling out of bed,  brushing teeth and forgetting to comb before running out of the house is not happening.  it’s pulverised along with the vibrating bass that resonates through the tight budgeted walls. 

ah,  Yeezy,  Yeezy,  how you do it,  huh  ?  it's my birthday,  I deserve to be greedy,  huh  ?

whether the actual birthday boy is begging for the chance to be greedy or the chaotic sound source in the kitchen is debatable.  the April birthday boy is was soundly fast asleep in his bedroom underneath the newly gifted weighted blanket and he must be too groggy with early morning drowsiness.  he groans as the bass violently shakes his bed before waiting a few moments to see if the music will miraculously switch off.  perhaps this spring day will bless him with a power shut off to banish the ruckus.  

I show up with a check to your work place then hand the valet the keys to the merces.  tell the DJ play your song,  this shit come on.  what I'm seeing from the back I can't front on.  they ask me what I do and who I do it for  !

as fast as Cường’s lethargic feet will transport him to the kitchen despite it being a mere few steps in their apartment,  it feels like eternity to him.  as he languidly inches towards the kitchen,  the deafening birthday song begins to ring his ears.  it elicits a slight grimace out of him.  his only plan is to lower the music volume to five before noiselessly dragging himself back to bed to flop down to prolong his sixteen hour nap. 

however,  his plans are rapidly crushed to itty bitty microscopic bits the moment he stumbles across the sight of Jaewoo haphazardly dancing along with ardent strong passionate strokes in the midst of the glammed up kitchen.  stray confetti and metallic balloons litter the countertops and corners.  a stack of presents line up on the island as a standout centrepiece on the counter set up for two.  the warm scent of fresh souffle pancakes fill up the air and berry compote compete to overwhelm senses along with the brewing green tea.  when Cường is set to open his presents after breakfast,  he will come to find out that Jaewoo has purchased a drawstring hoodie pillow,  an interesting choice of a pillow,  another ostrich pillow for classes,  an aromatherapy eye pillow,  microwaveable slippers,  a book light for philosophical bedtime reading,  a golden ratio notebook,  a poster,  and a self-heating coffee mug. 

“  finally,  I was beginning to wonder how long it would take to bait you out of bed  !  ”  Jaewoo chirpily waves at the dopy figure in the middle of his twirling hands up motion,  who is seemingly flabbergasted.  it’s an overload of various stimuli to all take in at once at six in the morning.  but to his credit,  Jaewoo begins to lower the volume to a decent level that won’t burst eardrums.  

“  who are those presents for  ?  they better be for you.  I told you,  you didn’t have to do anything for me.  silly boy.  ”  Cường finally remembers how to vocalise after awakening slightly.  

wiggling his finger at him,  Jaewoo jubilantly shakes his head with a smug smile before grabbing hold of the other’s shoulders to steer him to sit down on the island stool.  “  so you are allowed to do whatever you want for my birthday but I can’t do the same  ?   if you do not accept these presents then I will have no choice but to start playing Tinashe at full volume.  you know how her songs get me going.  ”

it appears to be that Cường receives the message so he expectantly grabs his chopsticks.  with a triumphant grin,  Jaewoo pours out a cup of green tea to him before pouring out a bowl of seaweed soup for him.  “  eat up birthday boy,  live a very long healthy prosperous life.  who else will I take to astronomy club  !  I need you alive  !  ”  with his eyes sparkling mischievously,  he then whispers out one final.  “  happy birthday Cường.  ”

[swimyghost]

Be Careful

Sup bros, this is the first fanfic in what I’m calling the Shared Universe between my friends @wickedhellagoodtime @holyfandomsnazz @self-insert-nonsense

I hope you all enjoy.

College was boring. That wasn't an opinion but a fact to many. Although college was newly free humans and nonhumans’ first taste of freedom, the long lectures and the even longer list of assignments wore many down.

All except for one.

??????, or simply Six-Q to their three friends, was an odd student, to say the least. They were nonbinary, a target for simple teasing and major bigots alike, but they never fought back. No, they left the fighting to their 6'1 werewolf friend who wasn't afraid to use her natural strength again childish older teens. Six-Q also suffered from the fact that no one could identify if they were human or not. Their eyes were a bright neon purple, a color that matched the tips of their black hair. Their body was slender and tall, but not a giant compared to the real giants that occupied the campus. Six-Q was also quiet, very quiet, but it wasn't due to shyness or being anti-social. It was because their mouth was sewn shut with ebony thread.

"Why do you have that stupid thread anyway?" asked Six-Q's first-ever college friend, Riley.

Six-Q let an exhale out of their nose. Riley Stormcross was a stubborn, high-class woman who didn't take a simple 'no' for an answer. More simply, Riley was a well-off daddy's girl who hated simple explanations and wanted to pry into everyone's life. That wasn't to say she was completely full of negative traits, Riley was fiercely loyal to her friends but downright venomous to her enemies. Six-Q once saw her drunkenly fight off two frat boys because started calling them a queer. They were rather impressed after she won that battle while completely intoxicated and could walk stably enough to get more drinks.

"I told you, it’s complicated," Six-Q said, flashing signs underneath the rounded lecture hall table so the teacher won't notice.

"Yeah, well, I've been your friend for like, two years now? You have to tell me why." Riley huffed, crossing her arms over her teal crop top. Six-Q could vaguely make out a worn cartoon storm cloud with an angry face printed in the middle of her crop top.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it." Six-Q attempted to weasel their way out of the conversation. Their literally sealed lips were a sensitive topic they'd rather not think about. 

"C'mon, it can't be that bad! Besides, I told you my secret technique on how to get neckbeards to tip more when-"

"Ms. Stormcross! Leave Mr. Q alone. Just because I seated you next to him to translate doesn't mean you have the right to speak with him whenever."

Oh, no was they only thought Six-Q had. All the rest of the students thought the same because nervous looks they had when they peered over at the electric blue-haired girl. Riley's left eye twitch. "They."

"Pardon?" the teacher said, sounding tired as if he had this conversation before. 

"Six-Q uses they/them pronouns. We've been over this, like, what, six times, old man." Riley snapped.

"That's Professor Walker to you, young lady, and I don't appreciate your tone." Professor Walker's eyes narrowed into slits.

Riley's own sky blue eyes followed suit. "I'd be a lot happier if you actually tried to use the correct pronouns for once. Have you forgotten who my father is? One call to the dean and he'll have your teaching license suspended."

Barrett Stormcross was a meteorologist to the rest of the world. But to the nonhuman and human communities who knew about the world of witches, he was a powerful storm witch with the ability to predict and create most, if not all, storms. Six-Q hadn't met the man, but judging by the quiet gasps and the reddening face of the teacher, he was a big deal.

"I will not tolerate threats in my classroom, Ms. Stormcross! Leave, now!"

"Fine!" Riley shouted back. She began shoveling her textbooks and notebooks into her tote bag and stormed out of the classroom while giving Professor Walker a death glare. The hard slam of the wooden door shook the whole room. Six-Q swore another crack had been added to the list of cracks and missing wood fragments on the door. The lecture hall wasn't big, so Six-Q couldn't easily hide under the desk in shame, away from the stares that all the students, from the students sitting on the same level as Six-Q to those in the higher level desks.

"Uh, Mr. Wa-"

"Professor!" the teacher snapped. Six-Q could see that he was frantically trying to compose himself by brushing his white hair and beard and flicking off invisible pieces of dirt from his vest.

"Yeah, right. Professor Walker, what do we do about the deaf kid?"

Mute! Six-Q thought tartly. Professor Walker glared at them, causing the older teen to shrink into their seat.

"Well, guess he won't be able to participate, will he?"

No one dared corrected his misgendering, choosing to listen to the professor ramble on about psychology and the human mind once more. Six-Q could barely focus on Walker's words. A wave of anger was building in their chest. One that wasn't entirely their own.

Calm down, please! Six-Q silently panicked.

"And that concludes the topic on social cognition. Now, we have a test next week on Wednesday so study, all of you!"

Six-Q blinked back to the present noticing their classmates passing them without even looking in their direction. The only thing a student did that got any sort of reaction from Six-Q was one of their Fae classmates had flown directly over them, nearly hitting them in the back of the head. Six-Q quickly stuffed their books into their backpack and tried to race out of the classroom.

"Mr. Q."

Six-Q froze in the middle of the doorway. Classmates shoved them aside so they could leave the room. Six-Q slowly turned and nodded towards the Professor. The Professor took his glasses off his forehead and rested them on his podium.

"I understand you kids like forging new genders and titles to make yourselves feel special, but try to tell your friend to not have tantrums in class if her feelings get hurt." 

Six-Q flashed a sideways okay hand underneath their chin. Professor Walker took that as a sign that Six-Q understood and waved his hand like he was waving away a stray dog. "You're dismissed."

Six-Q bowed their head then shuffled out into the crowded white tiled hall. They couldn't help but smile. That sideways okay was the sign for "asshole". Six-Q didn't like to swear, but Riley's and their roommate Rei's unfiltered mouths had rubbed off on them. Speaking of Riley, Six-Q knew they had to find the hot-headed girl or else a fight would ensue. They trudged through the slow-moving crowd then managed to stumble onto the campus grounds.

Despite it nearly being the middle of fall, the trees still held onto their bright green leaves. A peaceful atmosphere hung over the grounds as students and teachers alike walked around on the freshly cut grass. Six-Q could see two centaurs playing frisbee with each other, laughing as it spun in the air like a dancer. Harpies, Fae, Sylphs, and other winged nonhumans happily flew through the sky, laughing as a harsh, yet warm breeze blew over them and ruined one Fae girl's hair. Six-Q could see a study group taking place as well as a picnic date. They took a deep breath and let out a content sigh. This was what college was about, not transphobic old men.

It didn't take Six-Q to find Riley. She was sitting under a tree with one leg folded close to her chest and another laid straight on the grass. She had some wireless earbuds in listening to some type of loud music, so it wasn't a surprise when Six-Q didn't try to get her attention it failed. She was also hypnotized by something on her phone so it lessened Six-Q chances of gaining her attention. Finally, what got Riley to notice them was Six-Q lightly kicking her checkered slip-on shoes. At first, Riley furrowed her brows and glared up at the disturber of her peace. When she realized who had bothered her, her expression turned positive and she pulled the earbuds out.

"Hey, is class over? What did old man Walker say about me?"

"Nothing. But he didn't call one of the translators from the head office or anything so I had to sit in silence." Six-Q explained.

"That bastard!" Riley snarled. For once, Six-Q didn't feel like calming her down. In fact, they wanted to match her rage. Sadly, they had to be the reasonable one in the relationship or else Riley would've been put in jail for life already.

"But I did call him something on the way out." Six-Q continued, hoping Riley noticed their devious smile.

"What?" 

Six-Q showed her the sign and she immediately burst into high-pitched laughter.

"Please tell me this isn't a joke! Please tell me you actually did that!" Riley asked through her laughs. Six-Q proudly nodded, causing her to laugh more. It took a while, but the witch finally stopped and caught her breath.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, Q." Riley declared.

"Yep!" Six-Q replied.

Riley chuckled, then stood up, dusting some dirt off her shorts. "Hey, you don't have any classes after psychology, right?"

Six-Q, worried about where this was going, nodded. Without warning, Riley wrapped her arm around their's and set off towards the campus's exit. 

"C'mon, let's go shopping!"

"Shopping?!" exclaimed Six-Q, being forced to spell it out on one hand due to the other being stuck in Riley's tight grip.

"Yeah! My monthly Patreon money just came in and I need some new clothes," Riley looked them up and down, "I think you need some too."

Six-Q just glared at Riley as they continued to be dragged away from campus. The guards watching the campus's gates barely batted an eye at them, sealing Six-Q's fate. They were stuck with Riley for the rest of the afternoon. They let the upper part of their body go slack and let their legs do all the hard work. 

The town wasn't small per se, there was a considerable amount of people and even a large almost urban distract twenty minutes away from the college, but the main street in town gave off the coziest feeling. The old brick buildings had seen plenty of young, dumb students and they'd probably see many more. Children raced through the groups of adults to get into the nearby candy shop all while squealing in delight. Adults either sat on benches, happily chatting about the day, or popping out of stores carrying several bags full to the brim with clothes, jewelry, and other fancy new trinkets. Six-Q was so enamored by the bustling town life they didn't notice the looks people were giving both them and Riley. But Riley certainly did, as she death glared in the direction of anyone who dared look at the pair.

"C'mon, it's just down this block," Riley said, finally loosening her grip on Six-Q.

"But I need to get home, I have homework!" Six-Q pleaded.

It was a fruitless effort since Riley just shook her head. "You only live once, Q. You can't let things like homework and responsibility drag you down all the time."

"Is that why you needed to copy off all my notes and tests?"

"Silence those hands, mutey."

Six-Q silently celebrated their victory as the two turned the corner, nearly bumping into both a streetlamp and a couple. The man glared at them only to get flustered as Riley batted her eyelashes sweetly. As the couple disappeared around the corner, Six-Q heard the man's girlfriend chide him in a shrill voice. Riley seemed to get a kick out of that as she snorted loudly.

The sun was lazily setting behind a cluster of wispy clouds. Its glowing oranges and reds were shifting into blue and purple hues. Stores were having to turn on their lights to let passerby’s know they were still open. Six-Q felt a chilly breeze pass over them. They were left to wonder how Riley managed to stay warm while wearing only a crop top that showed her middle (which proudly held a shiny belly button ring) and jean shorts with tights under them. She wasn't even wearing socks.

Note to self: ask her if it's magic or simply not giving a darn!

"We're here!" Riley announced, jolting Six-Q back to their senses.

It was some type of shop dedicated to various popular clothing brands. Nike, Adidas, Levi's, Prada, and Lululemon were just some of the few brands that dressed the mannequins and shoe racks in the front window. Six-Q didn't even get a chance to look at the name before they were dragged into the store. A bell rang as the glass metal-framed door swung open.

"Oooh, Miranda~!" Riley called out in a singsong voice. "Guess who it is!"

A brunette woman wearing a black turtleneck stepped out into the open, hidden behind a rack of pants. She squealed in delight and rushed over to hug the equally excited Riley.

"Oh my stars, Riley, I haven't seen you in, like, forever!" the girl, Miranda said, after letting Riley go from their shared bear-hug. "What's happening in the life of the coolest witch I know."

"Ah, nothing much. Got kicked out of class today and my boyfriend fucking cheated on me." Riley said. Their voice was bitter at the end. Miranda gasped in surprise.

"Really? With who?"

"Sarah."

"Sarah McLaughlin?! Isn't she-"

"One of my exes, yep."

Miranda's eye grew to the size of dinner plates. "I can't believe it. And she was just in my store yesterday! I swear, if she comes back I'm going to give her a piece of my mind."

Riley casually waved her right hand, as if the brush away the idea. "Don't. A hussy like her doesn't deserve your time. Besides, it happened over a week ago. I'm over it."

Six-Q blinked. It was only two days ago Six-Q had to walk to Riley's duplex to comfort the drunken witch, who was having a complete emotional breakdown over the breakup. They didn't question how an underage girl like her even got two bottles of tequila (probably from one of her sketchy drinking buddies), just sat there in her bathroom rubbing circles on her back and holding her hair as Riley both sobbed and vomited into the toilet. They decided that they weren't going to embarrass her by sharing such a personal experience. Miranda's eyes trailed up to Six-Q. She ogled him for a few seconds before breaking out into a grin. 

"Oh my, hello~. Are you the new boyfriend?"

Six-Q cringed. But because the idea of being romantically involved with Riley was a terrible thing, but the fact the clearly oblivious woman used the term "boyfriend". 

Can I be gendered correctly for once?

Riley instantly came to their defense. "Actually, Six-Q uses they/them pronouns and they're nonbinary. Also, not my partner. They're too much of a softy to actually deal with my way of flirting."

Six-Q decided they also wouldn't mention the first time Riley and they met it was in Psychology 101 and Riley was trying to seduce them and get their notes. How they managed to become friends after that series of awkward events still confused them to this day.

Miranda's expression from joy to panic. "Oh my Gosh, I'm so so SO sorry! Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable? I'm the store owner so I can gift you some coupons or-"

Six-Q held up their hand and flashed a couple of signs at Riley.

"They said they're fine and that there is no need to worry." Riley noticed the confusion on Miranda's face. "They're mute so they communicate through ASL. They are actually the reason why I learned the language and why I continue to take psychology even though the professor is a piece of shit."

"Mute? Oh, what happen-" Miranda noticed the thread sewn through Six-Q's lips and immediately went quiet. An awkward silence filled the store until Riley spoke up.

"I actually got paid recently and wanted to get some cute new clothes. Got any recommendations?"

Miranda instantly brightened up. "Oh, yes. Here, I know a pair of jeans that would just look amazing on you!"

The store owner pulled the witch away, leaving Six-Q to explore the building on their own. It was a mix of rustic charm and contemporary with the front count and walls being made from real wood while the shelves, racks, and other exhibiting items were something akin to an IKEA display. The lights the dangled from the ceiling were rectangle, adding to the modern feel. The mannequins were posed in ways that felt almost too real for Six-Q. Instead of focusing on the lifeless figurines, Six-Q decided to browse the clearance aisle. They were light on cash so they were hoping to find something in their price range.

You'd have more money if you weren't a coward. A voice hissed in their head. Six-Q frowned but kept searching.

It wasn't their fault that they struggled to hold a job. When all the misgendering, stares, lack of translators, and just judgmental people got to them, Six-Q's automatic next move was to flee. Were they a coward? Yeah, probably. But they suffered through worse so if they were in desperate need of cash, Six-Q could probably ask their friends Rei and Trixie for a position at their job.

Would Marty even want someone like me as one of his... Dancers? Six-Q thought, shivering as he remembered the merman club owner's sharp gaze.

"Hey, Q! Find anything good?"

Six-Q found a pair of pants that were reasonably priced and held them up from Riley to see. She nodded her head, "Nice, dude."

The enby craned their neck to see what their friend had bought. It was several brightly colored shirts, hoodies, and pants, and shorts. If Six-Q could, they would've whistled in both amazement and the fact they were thoroughly impressed. 

The Patreon gig must be seriously well.

"Will that be all for today?" Miranda asked in her friendliest customer service voice.

"Yep!" Riley said. Her friend nodded with a smile.

The two paid for their own clothing then stepped outside after saying their goodbyes. The sun had sunk a little lower, but there was still enough daylight where it couldn't be considered night yet. Riley pouted at Six-Q's single bag.

"You only got one thing?"

"I have to save money and I don't have that much anyway," Six-Q said.

"Well, I know some places you can get some nice and cheap clothes!" Riley had all the enthusiasm back in her voice.

"Wait, I-"

Riley silenced them by covering their hands with her own. She started to pull them down the street with an adventurous smile.

"C'mon, Q! While the sun still shines!"

Six-Q had a bad feeling growing in their gut that this would be a long night

-----

Six-Q stumbled out of what was hopefully the last store. Although several bags were in their grasp, most of them were not theirs. They had only purchased two other sets of pants and three graphic t-shirts plus a new makeup pallet, lip gloss, and eyeliner. Riley, however, acted like the old British Empire and sought to claim everything she had touched. From lipstick to perfume to clothes from the latest clothing trend, Riley decided to snatch up everything. Six-Q was worried that her card was going to get declined at some point, but that fear never came to fruition.

The pair started to make their way down the streetlight lit street. The sun had completely set and was replaced with an ethereal half-moon and twinkling stars. Six-Q gazed up worryingly at the sky. They stomped their feet on the ground to get Riley's attention. She looked up from her phone and Six-Q could see she was editing a selfie of herself. 

"Yeah?" she said.

Six-Q tried to sign but the bags got in the way. Riley noticed and swiftly took some from them. The enby then asked. "It's late, Riley."

Riley shrugged. "It’s only 8:45. Don't tell me it's past your bedtime."

Six-Q frowned. "I need to finish some homework."

"You can do that later. Besides, aren't you hungry?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "I don't need to eat, remem-"

Riley grinned. "Great, because I'm starving! I know a cafe not too far from here! They have the best eclairs!"

Once again, the pair rushed off down the street. Six-Q's feet were beginning to hurt from all this running.

It can't possibly get anyway worse than this.

The cafe, as Riley promised, was not far at all as it was just around the corner. It was an unassuming little shop with it literally being a corner store. Riley was the first one inside leaving Six-Q to scramble behind her. The interior design wasn't something to rave home about. Common fake wood circular tables and chairs were stationed on one side of the cafe with the display case filled with all types of wonderful desserts and the cashier on the other. The cashier clearly was a young girl, probably sixteen at the most, and looked incredibly bored in her green apron and white shirt. It was the customers in front of the counter that got Six-Q concerned.

One was a brown-haired young man with brown hair and eyes who was digging through his wallet not paying attention to the people around him. He wore a dress shirt and pants along with a tie, clearly showing he was someone vaguely important. The man next to him worried Six-Q the most. It was a curly-haired ginger man whose hair basically covered his barely visible emerald green eyes. He wore a gaudy black shirt and black pants. A star with neon stripes coming off it was placed in the center of the shirt and had several multi-colored sparkles coming off it. Six-Q wanted to leave but Riley was the one to get the first words out. "Jesus fucking Christ why are you here?"

Both men turned around. The first one seemed surprised to see the blue-haired witch while the ginger one was both excited and mesmerized.

"Really? Is that the magnificent Riley and-" he screamed and pointed at Six-Q, "THE DEMON!"

Six-Q winced at the sudden noise while the well-dressed man groaned. "Tobias, please. We're in public."

"It’s Tobi and he's gonna hurt Riley!" Tobi whined, trying to put up a tough demeanor.

Six-Q wanted to snap. Can't someone gender me just this once?!

Riley was quick to snap back. "Please, don't even try that Alpha Male shit at me, Tobi. I've seen you cry for hours over that stupid robot show."

Tobi gasped loudly. "Star Pilots of Galactia is not stupid!"

"Also, the 80s called? They want their fucking rancid shit back." Riley continued.

"I'm on break from work, casually getting a donut with my cousin who just got off a shift from his lame job, and now I'm stuck between a seductress and a demon! Riley, you need to get away from him! He's dangerous!" Tobi cried, pointing at Six-Q. They could feel hot rage bubbling in their chest.

"It’s they, you waste of oxygen and witch talent!" Riley snarled, taking a step forward.

"You're a powerful and beautiful witch, my dear! Can't you feel his negativity?"

"I swear upon ALL the Gods if you compliment me or insult my friend again I'll snap your fucking neck."

"Oh yeah! Well, why don't I just summon some plants and-"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" a feminine voice shouted.

Six-Q, Riley, and Tobi turned to the cashier who nervously shook her head. Then they turned to the only other person in the room. The cousin looked completely stunned with his head hung low. His hand was clutched around his throat. Six-Q noticed his entire body was quivering. Tobi took a few steps forward, clearly considered. "Hey, Rowan, are you."

"Tobias, get in the car." He responded. His voice was ice cold.

"But-"

"Now!" 

Tobi stammered for a bit then rushed out of the building. Rowan pulled out a twenty and slammed it on the table. "Keep the change." He didn't even look at Six-Q or Riley as he stepped out into the night. Six-Q felt a shiver run down his spine.

"C-Can I he-help you?" the cashier nervously asked.

"Yeah... Yeah, you can." Riley finally answered.

Riley ordered her Caffe mocha and some type of cake and éclair. Six-Q just followed them out of the store without saying anything. The two walked in silence for a long time. The streets were almost completely empty except for a few stragglers who were hanging around bars and small diners. Six-Q pulled out their phone pocket to check the time. 9:01. They exhaled out of their nose then tapped Riley on the shoulder. She must have been deep in thought because she jumped at the touch.

"Sorry." Six-Q apologized.

"I-Its fine just..." she sighed. "Look, I know Rowan more than you do. He's sensitive about his voice because he's... You know... Transitioning. Just, don't mention it to people, okay?"

Six-Q frowned. "Do you think that lowly of me?"

"Of course not!" Riley countered. "I just know how people are and... Listen, my relationship with Tobi and Tobi himself fucking sucks but I don't want Rowan to get in the crossfire, okay?"

The enby college student just nodded. They didn't want to get into Riley's messy relationship history any more than they had to.

"Listen, I think it's time I head home," Six-Q said, just wanting this night to end.

"Sure, sure. Hey, I'll walk with you to-" Riley then remembered who Six-Q shared an apartment with and scowled. "Never mind, I need to get home too."

Six-Q wasn't going to argue. They just handed over Riley's shopping bags, waved goodbye, then set out on their own.

The walk home took twenty minutes but Six-Q wasn't too concerned. The neighborhood they lived in was relatively safe with only a few minor incidents. They also weren't scared about being mugged. If they learned anything from growing up around people like Tobi they all feared Six-Q's unnatural eye color. They liked to imagine a scenario where someone tried to threaten them or their friends and all they had to do to become the hero is to flash their eyes like Medusa. They let out a happy snort. They barely had any muscle mass so fantasies like that one were the only way they could be strong.

You know that's not true, kid.

Quiet, you.

Six-Q finally made it to their old brick apartment and entered. They noticed the landlord was not tending to the front lobby area. They figured the elderly woman had to be asleep so just went over to the mail slots to see if they had mail. They opened their compartment and only a letter from a company they never heard of was there. Slowly, Six-Q crept up the creaky stairs while tearing open the letter. They climbed another flight then finally made it to their apartment. The moment they stepped in, Six-Q tossed the letter. It was talking about they owned money after the recent car wreck they got in. Six-Q didn't even own a car.

The décor in the apartment would've scared most people away. There was a giant picture of a naked woman that Six-Q’s roommate took plus several punk art pieces that showed violence and people flipping each other off. The skull of a deer hung over the blood-red couch. The flat-screen TV'S stand had chokers, knives, rings, gemstones, and other oddities scattered on the top and on the shelves. The item Six-Q was most proud of was the red rug with black skulls that laid beneath the coffee table was sewn by Six-Q themselves. Six-Q passed through the living room and ignored the mostly brown and white kitchen. Although most people would've been turned away by the vulgarity and creepiness, Six-Q and their roommate embraced it. Six-Q thought it was better than most scarcely decorated modern buildings. 

Speaking of scarcely decorated, Six-Q entered their small, barely decorated bedroom. The twin-sized bed only had standard black sheets with a nearby bedside table only containing a lamp and a clock. The nearby desk in the corner only held notebooks, textbooks, a sewing machine, and a laptop; also a lamp rested on the top of the desk along with a box Six-Q knew that contained makeup. Six-Q got to work put their new clothes into their antique wardrobe and setting their backpack beside their bed. The rational part of the student knew they should start working on homework, but after all the running around and high emotions, Six-Q just wanted to nap.

They leapt onto their bed, only kicking off their shoes after they landed. They nestled under the covers and quickly fell asleep. However, it only felt like a few minutes before they heard muffled swearing and someone struggling to open the door. Six-Q knew it wasn't an intruder, just their roommate. Judging by how hard they were struggling, they must be had a bad night at the club.

I must tell them how much I wish I could have their patience. 

After stretching and cracking their neck, Six-Q slid out of bed. They winced at how cold the floor was and left the room. They got excited when they heard the door finally open. They speed-walked down the hall, ready to greet one of their closest friends on roommates. Before they could, they immediately stop dead in their tracks.

Rei de la Mora, Six-Q's roommate, was wearing nothing but a red and gold sea-themed bikini that was twice below her size and a pair of red stilettos. As they hung up her coat, Six-Q watched in horror as one of the cups holding up her rather large breasts started to slip. Before anything else could happen, Six-Q started to slam their hand against the wall. Rei jumped, causing her chest to bounce but, luckily, the bikini continued to do its job. Six-Q was sweating uncontrollably. This entire situation felt wrong.

Rei, meanwhile, simply adjust the bikini top and bottom. Then, they casually raised up a hand. "Sup. How was your day."

That sent Six-Q throwing themselves back against the wall. Their spine painfully was the body part that first made contact, leading them to fall on their hands and knees. They heard Rei shout something, but they half scrambled, half crawled their way back to their room, and locked the door. Six-Q was panting heavily. While Six-Q respected Rei's work, it still felt wrong to see her like that. Then the knocking started.

"Goddamn it, Six, not again! You've seen me in much worse!"

Six-Q backed away from the door. Rei has both the power of a werewolf and natural body strength on her side. If she wanted, she could kick that door down. 

Six-Q rushed over to their desk, ripped open a notebook, quickly wrote something down, then tore out the piece of paper. They slid it under the door and awaited Rei's response.

They heard Rei sigh. "For Christ's sake, Six, it's just a bikini. Besides, you're not a perv like all those other weirdos."

Once again, Six-Q wrote a note and slid it under the door. Once again, Rei sighed, "Fine, alright, I'll change. Happy?"

The enby student happily slid another piece of paper on the door. Six-Q listened the Rei's footsteps grow farther and farther away and sighed in relief. They remembered their homework needed to be completed. Six-Q went to work while they waited for their friend to change. It didn't take long as Rei didn't hesitate to start banging on their door.

"Come on out, purist. I'm decent."

Six-Q slipped their work back into the bag then slung it over their shoulder. They opened the door and saw Rei wearing a tight-fitting punk band t-shirt and black sweatpants.

"Better, Lord of Woman's Purity," Rei smirked.

"It's not like that," Six-Q explained. "I just feel like… We shouldn't be that open with each other yet."

"You act like we're dating and, I should remind you, I'm a lesbian." Rei ruffled Six-Q's hair. "Hey, you promised we'd watch To Catch A Killer together. And don't use homework as an excuse, you can do it while we watch."

Rei didn't drag Six-Q into the living room but had the authoritative aura to make Six-Q follow anyway. The two sat on the couch, Six-Q sitting cross-legged while answering the question of how the brain's thoughts influence feelings and how do people interpret other feelings and emotions and the social cues that follow and Rei with her feet on the coffee table. The pair were quiet for the most part, only the TV and Six-Q's light pencil scratching. It was Rei who finally spoke up.

"So, you didn't come back after school. What happened?"

Six-Q set their pencil down. Riley and Rei were the definitions of bitter exes, they needed to be careful not to mention her name. "I decided to go shopping. Got some new pants and shirts plus some new makeup. You can help me practice eyeliner like we've been talking about.".

Rei didn't stop the TV, just gave their roommate a sideways glance. "You went shopping?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "Is that a problem?"

"Six, I was the one that had to convince you to buy new clothes. Twice. You suddenly decided to go on an hours-long shopping trip by yourself is… Weird."

"Well, I finally took your words to heart and-"

"It was Riley, wasn't it?" Rei interrupted.

Six-Q flinched as if they were just slapped. Rei's voice was cold, just like Rowan's was. Oh God, they were going to have to explain what happened at the café. Six-Q started to explain but Rei raised their hand.

"No, it's fine. It's alright. I don't care," Rei said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself then talk to Six-Q. "So, anything… Big happen."

Six-Q explained to Rei what happened at the café, excluding the part about Rowan. She ground her teeth together in a snarl. "Goddamn it, Six, why don't you let me kick that stoner's ass."

"Because you'll get arrested and fired," Six-Q replied.

"Nah, Marty and Hydna would bail me out and Marty can't fire me. I'm his dancer because of these-" she flexed her muscles, "-and these." She lifted her breasts with her hands. Six-Q nearly fell off the couch in shock. Rei grabbed them just before they fell. "Will you calm down, you big baby."

The two shared a smile before Rei frowned. "Can I share something with you, Six?"

Six-Q nodded, giving Rei the okay to speak. "I know you like Riley and that she is one of your closest friends, but you saw how she treated me and you see how she treats others." Rei rested a hand on their friend's shoulder. "Just… Be careful, okay?"

Six-Q nodded once again. Rei held her gaze for a few moments then let her hand fall to their side. "Finish your homework. I don't want you failing college."

The two sat in silence, watching Mike Arntfield solve cold cases and catch the bad guy, all while Rei's words rang through Six-Q's head.

I'm always careful

Yeah, right

I wasn't talking to you and I don't want to talk to you.

Six-Q's head was silent and that worried them.

[trexrambling]

Hair Twists

Dean finds a hidden talent that he's embarrassed about bc it isn't "macho" or hunting related. Orrr one of the boys (up to you) has to help reader get monster guts out of her hair after her first hunt. [ I’m combing both of these into one drabble ;) ]

Requested by @indecisive20something​

“You guys didn’t mention this part in the ‘Hunter’s Handbook’ seminar,” you grumble, holding up a strand of your hair with the tiniest of fingertips. You let it go, and it flops back against your cheek with a wet slap, the noise and the spews of slime it splatters causing your gag reflex to kick in with sudden tenacity.

“Oh god,” you groan, trying to stop yourself from dry heaving. “I’m getting in the shower.”

“Hold on, not just yet, kid.”

Dean pushes his arms through the sleeves of his t-shirt and moves closer to study your hair of horrors. You make a face, reaching up to run your fingers through his damp hair. “What do you mean, ‘not yet’? That’s not fair; you’re freshly clean.”

“True.” He brushes your hand away and picks at the end of what may or may not be a piece of entrails entangled into your locks. “But I also didn’t have half a werewolf fused to my head. You’ll clog up the drain with that stuff.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ll clog up the drain?”

“Don’t give me that look. I’m the one who’ll have to snake it out later.”

“Sam’s hair clogs the drain at last once a week, and I don’t see him having to wait to take a shower.”

“Oh shut it and sit down.” Dean motions to the toilet, and you plop down on the closed lid with a sigh.

He drags a trashcan over and then his fingers start picking, unwinding slimy, stringy bits and hair that definitely isn’t yours along with the random twigs and leaves.

“It’s like you head-butted it to death,” he mutters, “and then rubbed your head in the dirt.”

“I mean-” you shrug- “that’s not too far off from what happened.”

He chuckles. “You were definitely... original.”

“I don’t appreciate the connotation you gave that word.”

He ignores you, going to search through the drawer of the bathroom cabinet for a brush. He finds what he wants and walks back over, raising it to your head and then pausing when you flinch away.

“What? Someone who rams their head into a werewolf without a second thought is afraid of a hairbrush?”

You frown and let out a mournful sigh. “I’m going to have to soak it in bleach when you’re done.”

He laughs again, low and even, making your own lips curl up in a small smile. His hand goes on your shoulder to steady you with a small squeeze, and then he begins the tedious task of working the bristles through your matted hair. 

Only a few hundred flinches of pain later, Dean finally gets to the point where the brush goes all the way through your blood stiffened tresses, and you sigh in relief. He sets the brush on the counter and steps back to admire his handiwork.

“You should really cut your hair shorter, or wear it pulled all the way back.”

You shrug. “Yeah, I know. But all of my ponytails and braids look like ratted horsetails when I’m done with them.”

Dean turns on the sink water and starts to scrub your hair grime off of his hands. “Well get your shower, and then I can show you.”

Your eyes narrow. “You can... show me? Show me what, exactly?”

He shuts the faucet off and dries his hands, purposely avoiding eye contact with you, but you don’t miss the sudden blush that’s risen to his cheeks. “Just get your shower.”

You do, and quickly at that, emerging from the water’s steam feeling like a new person. You scramble into your pajamas and wander out of the bathroom, joining him on the bed with a squeak of the mattress springs as you plop down.

“Nope, chair.” He points to the stool he’s pulled up beside the bed, and you resituate yourself. 

His hands settle into your hair, fingertips against your scalp as he combs them through. You can’t help but lean into his touch, a hum of appreciation vibrating in your throat. A comb soon replaces his fingers, separating out different strands, and then he’s tugging them lightly into place, twisting and turning with practiced focus.

“Are you... Are you braiding my hair?”

“Yep.”

“That feels like a french braid. Is that a french braid?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a braid.”

Your hand goes up to gently trace what he’s done so far. “That’s definitely a french braid. Where in the world did you learn to braid hair? I can’t even braid my own hair.”

His fingers hesitate, holding the next piece instead of adding it in with the others. “I don’t... I’m not...” Air huffs out of his nose, and his grip on the braid loosens. “I shouldn’t have-”

“Oh my god, please don’t stop,” you interject. “This is amazing.” He still hasn’t moved, and you tilt your head back so you can catch his eyes. “Please?”

A small smile turns up the corner of his lip, and the hand holding the braid in place presses your neck back down.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, I made a comment to Sam about braiding each other’s hair once. Figured I’d do it while he was sleeping, you know, as a prank or something. So I watched a few videos on how to twist hair.” 

His motions stop, and a hand slides down your arm, leaving a small trail of goose bumps in its wake. He snags the hair-tie that’s a permanent part of your being off of your wrist and uses it to secure the end of the braid. “Turns out, it’s not that much different than tying knots in rope.”

You turn around to face him, a smile spread wide across your face. “You know that I’m going to make you-” your fingers form quotation marks- “twist my hair into this wondrous perfection every time we have a hunt, right?”

He frowns.

Your smile grows bigger.

He sighs. “Fine. But Sam can never know.”

"You have yourself a deal.”

[mhdiaries]

Classroom Cleo de Nile & Ghoulia Yelps Mad Science Class Journal

Today was the dreaded “Choosing of Partners for Group Projects” although it could just be me that dreads it. I guess it is because there always seems to be a fight to see who gets to be my partner. I suppose that is an arrogant thing to write but it is true. In some ways it is flattering in other ways, not so much. Even Manny Taur goes out of his way to be nice to me. He is not exactly good at it, but he does try. Mr. Hackington decided this year to try and mitigate the chaos by putting all our names into a skull and drawing them out two at a time. There was some complaining about this new development until he finally said, “You get what you gets and you don’t pitch a fit!” My parents used to tell me that when I was a little ghoul, well probably not the way Mr. Hackington said it but he got his point across. Regardless, at least it keeps me from having to say “yes” to one classmate and “no” to the rest. 

Cleo complained the loudest about the new system until our names got pulled as partners... sigh... I love Cleo and she is my beast friend ever but I was really hoping for... well it does not matter. He got paired up with Frankie and I am sure they will do just fine. Normally having Cleo as a partner means... it means the extra credit work I usually do when I am working on a project by myself seems to be enough for both of us to an “A”. Cleo’s main functions include reminding me to do things I have already done and calling Deuce to bring us lunch or lattes. Not that I complain too much about that, and Deuce does have a way of keeping Cleo focused. She also insists on giving the final presentation, which usually goes well since she does command attention. This time though our assignment is to research the Science of Perfume, and then our final project will be to create our very own fragrance. I must say that I was completely surprised by Cleo’s enthusiasm for the project. I am not sure whether to be excited or frightened by this development. 

Finally a project worthy of my royal attention! I must say on past projects I have allowed Ghoulia to do the dragon’s share of the work but this is something I can really get my bandages wrapped around. When we still lived in Egypt, before “the difficulties”, one of my jobs was to oversee the royal perfumers. Nefera used to tell me that it was a job reserved for “a princess who would never become queen” but I didn’t care. While Nefera was in some dreadfully boring meeting about how much grain would be harvested for the year or where to build the next royal monument, I would go down and meet the trade caravans. They would be loaded with spices, oils and exotic flowers from the South and East, and the air was always filled with their fragrance. The royal perfumers and I would choose the best of everything to be had, then they would take the ingredients back to their perfumery and work their magic. I always wanted to join them as they cooked, ground and mixed the different ingredients to make perfume and scented oils, but this was looked upon as a task beneath a princess, so I could only watch. Now that I have a chance to get my hands dirty, so to speak, I can’t wait to get started. 

I have been pleasantly surprised by Cleo’s contributions to our project. She has really taken the dragon by the horns and unlike past projects together, I have had to “run” to keep up with her. Her enthusiasm and deadication to the project are quite refreshing and she has filled my in box with recipes and suggestions. So for the first time in, well, ever, I am feeling like the “weak link” in an academic setting. I find myself not entirely liking it, which makes me feel just a tiny bit selfish and unneeded. Yes, I know that this is completely illogical, but what if it becomes a habit? Will I lose my place in the group if my brainpower is no longer needed?... #DepressingThought

Ghoulia seems to be off her game lately. Usually she’s the zombie equivalent to a ball of energy when it comes to these projects, but lately she’s gone completely passive on me. It’s starting to scare me, and not in a good way. I admit to being more than a bit self-absorbed, but I can always tell when something is really wrong with one of my friends. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was fine. I know better than to press her on it, or she’ll just retreat into her brain’s fortress of solitude and not come out for days. I suppose I’ll just wait until she’s ready to talk, but I really want her input. She’s my beast friend, and I want us to have fun together on this project. 

I told my mom I did not feel well today and stayed home from school. It was not a lie, but it was not because of a physical ailment, either. Cleo called me several times, but I chose not to answer my iCoffin. I mostly stayed in bed and then I thought maybe I really was getting sick since I did not feel like eating and could not generate enough excitement to read the newest issue of Dead Fast. Apparently my absence was noted, and the cavalry descended on my house after school. I heard the doorbell ring and then I heard the front door open. The voices of Cleo, Frankie, Lagoona, Draculaura and Clawdeen all called out to my mother, “We’re here!” I could smell the aroma of baking cookies drifting out of the kitchen - I thought she gave in to my request to stay home a little too easily. They all headed to the kitchen except for Cleo. I heard her heading down the hall toward my room - I knew it was Cleo because she has a very distinctive gait. She got to my door, knocked once and walked in. “All right, ghoul friend, what, in the name of Bast’s cats is going on with you?” I said nothing was wrong with me but Cleo was in one of her “royal moods”, and I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was going to pester me until I gave her an answer, so I did. I told her how I felt about my role on the project and how I was afraid that my intellectual abilities were the only reason that she and the rest of the ghouls wanted me around. Cleo just stood there staring at me with the strangest look in her eyes.

For a moment I could not decide if she was on the verge of being angry or sad. Then she simply spun on a heel, stepped to my door and yelled down the hall, “Ghoulia’s room - NOW!” The ghouls got to my room in a blink albeit with mouths full of freshly baked cookies. Cleo pointed at Frankie whose mouth seemed to be less full of cookie than the others, “Quickly, when you think of Ghoulia what’s the first thing that comes to mind?” Frankie sparked and said, “She’s kind and helpful!” Then Lagoona said I was “trustworthy and sincere”, Draculaura said I was “funny and sweet” and Clawdeen said I was “brave and determined.” Finally Cleo looked at me and said, “Notice anything in those descriptions that was missing?” I hung my head, a little embarrassed and a lot encouraged. “Now we are going back to the kitchen to eat more cookies, you could join us if you’re feeling up to it... oh and you better be in class tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do.” It turns out that my mother’s cookies are a miracle cure. Who knew? 

Now that Ghoulia is out of her funk, we’ve been able to make some progress. I found several trunks at home filled with jars of oils, extracts and spices. Nearly all of them are still labeled. Probably should be careful with the ones that are not... I seem to remember some were rather volatile when mixed with certain other ingredients. Unfortunately, I could not find any of my old recipes, so this will truly require real experimentation. 

Experiment Notes

Batch #1

Top notes of leather - old gym shoe leather - with a sweaty angst-like finish. It is a smell reminiscent of the odor that emanates from the boys’ locker room after summer football practices. FAIL

Batch #2

Complex floral notes of troll cabbage and broccoli with none too subtle undertones on burnt microwave popcorn. It was quite... breathtaking and also Mr. Hackington’s favorite. FAIL

Batch #3

It smelled like cheese at first then spoiled milk. Disgusting. FAIL

Batch #4 

A frightfully woodsy scent, mysterious yet approachable and our favorite by far. It also hardened in the beaker like cement. We may have discovered a way to create scented construction material but as a perfume - FAIL

Batch #5

Eau de Pit of Goblin Arm. FAIL

Batch #6

Two words - wet werewolf. FAIL

Batch #8

We used an unmarked bottle from Cleo’s collection. It was an odorless black elixir but when we mixed it with vanilla, juniper berry and patchouli oil it opened a portal to another dimension that sucked in half of our experiments before we could put a stopper in the beaker. Cleo blamed the patchouli. FAIL

BATCH #13

Lovely top, middle and base notes - check.

Accentuates rather than overopowers - check, check

Would we wear it ourselves? - check, check, check

Perfection!

Final Grade - A+

Best. Lab project. Ever.

[440mxs-wife]

Just Friends (Part 1)

You had first met the Winchester boys when they were working on a werewolf case near your town. They had come into the library to research their case.

At the time, you were living with your best friend in a small apartment at the edge of town. One night, she was out walking in the woods with her boyfriend. That was the last night you ever saw her, because she and her boyfriend were captured and killed in those woods by the werewolf.

She was wearing your sweater that night, so the werewolf had also caught your scent. It would've made you its next victim if Sam and Dean hadn't shown up in town and killed it. After your best friend's death, you really didn't feel like staying in your shared apartment alone anymore. So, the Winchesters let you move in.

This was not without a loud protest from Dean, though. He didn't want to have to take responsibility for yet another person, especially someone not yet experienced in hunting monsters.

It wasn't just the responsibility factor, either. Dean just didn't seem to like you. He frowned when there were no eggs to go with breakfast, even though you'd already made pancakes and bacon. Instead of blueberry muffins, he wanted banana nut muffins. If you wanted Chinese food, he wanted pizza, and on it went.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were determined to win Dean over. You knew he had an obsession with pie, and your mother was an expert baker. One day, you were slicing apples to make the best damn apple pie Dean had ever tasted. When you had enough apples for the pie, you added the rest of the ingredients to the filling and set it aside. You then turned your attention to making the crust, measuring the flour, adding the eggs and other items.

Sam walked into the kitchen for a bottle of water and looked around for a snack. "What happened to all of the apples?" he asked.

You gave him a sheepish grin and confessed that you had sliced them all for the pie. Sam shook his head and grinned. "Is that for Dean?" he gestured towards the bowl.

"Yep, I don't know what his obsession with pie is, but I'm learning to just go with it," you replied.

"Is there another reason you're doing this?" Sam asked gently.

You stopped what you were doing and looked Sam in the eye. "I'm trying to get Dean to like me, because I don't think he does. All we ever do is disagree on just about everything. If I say movie, he wants to listen to music," you finished.

"He does like you. Dean sometimes takes a while to warm up to people," Sam explained. "Give him a chance, he'll come around. That pie is a step in the right direction, though. Can't wait to taste it," he winked as he headed back to the library.

An hour and a half later, you pulled a perfectly baked apple pie out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. You went back to your room to gather your dirty clothes so you could start a load of laundry. Then you planned on getting lost in a book for a while until the pie had a chance to completely cool.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean followed the scent of cinnamon to the kitchen, where his eyes beheld the glorious sight of a freshly baked apple pie sitting on the counter. He wondered where it had come from, and decided to have a slice. He cut himself a generous piece and slid it onto a plate. He took the first bite and was in heaven. "Hey Sam?" he hollered.

Sam came over to see what Dean was shouting about, and you followed close behind. "What, Dean?" he asked.

"Where did this pie come from? It's phenomenal!" he raved.

"I made it this afternoon," you answered, a shy smile gracing your face.

"Oh. Maybe you could put in a little more sugar and cinnamon next time, hmm?" he said.

Your smile fell at hearing one more thing you couldn't seem to do right for Dean to like you. "Sorry, I'll try to remember that next time. Excuse me," you murmured, hurrying off to your room.

Sam angrily turned on his older brother. "What the hell, Dean? She worked really hard on that pie FOR YOU. She's convinced herself that you don't like her, which you clearly don't if you can't see how much you hurt her just now. She made that pie to try and get you to like her. So for once, you'd have one damn piece of common ground where you're not disagreeing on everything."

"She went to all that trouble just to make this for me?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, and judging by how you criticized her efforts, I would say you can probably count on her never doing it again. If I were her, I sure as hell wouldn't," Sam retorted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean walked over to your door and he could swear he heard crying. He softly knocked and waited to see if you would answer.

"I'm sleeping, Dean," you answered, your voice still thick with emotion.

"No you're not, and I'm coming in," he replied, not waiting for your response. When he opened the door, he wasn't prepared to see your usually bright hazel eyes full of tears.

"Dean, I told you I was sleeping. I don't want to fight with you anymore. I know you don't like me, so I'll just stay out of your way from now on. Okay? Good talk, then. Goodnight," you said, trying to push him out of your room.

He braced his arms on either side of the doorway, preventing you from pushing him away. "Wait. I want--no, I need--you to know something," he started.

"What, Dean? Please tell me so I can go back to sleep," you pleaded.

"I'm sorry for what I said about the pie. It really was the best I've ever had. I didn't know you could bake like that," Dean remarked.

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me. Like you should know I was taught how to bake by the best, my mom, who was taught by her mom, and so on," you explained. "I'm glad you liked the pie. I hope you're not apologizing just so I won't stop baking them for you," you replied warily.

Dean chuckled. "No, I was really apologizing. For that, and for the way I've been treating you since you got here. So, this may be a little late, but welcome to the team," he said, holding his hand out for you to shake.

"Friends, then. Or at least want-to-get-to-know-you-better people," you teased, drawing a smile from the elder Winchester. "Goodnight, Dean," you said softly and closed the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next few months, you asked to be trained to become a hunter. You had self-defense sessions with both Sam and Dean, research with Sam and weapons practice with Dean. In between training sessions, you spent time getting to know the boys a little better, and they got to learn more about you.

As time went on, you found yourself having certain thoughts about Dean that weren't there before. At first, you tried to push those thoughts down, talk yourself out of it, that what you were feeling wasn't what you thought it was. However, the longer it went on, the harder and harder it was to deny it: you were in love with Dean Winchester.

What made matters complicated is when you went to the bar after finishing a hunt. You knew how the night was going to end. Dean would be cozied up to some bar chick that had the hair, eyes, legs and a butt to die for, and you were just....you.

It did little to change your feelings towards Dean, though, because you valued his friendship and his happiness above all else. However, it still stung, because you were hoping Dean would see that these women didn't appreciate him the way you did.

You saw past his mossy green eyes that seemed to look directly into your soul. His well-defined chest with the anti-possession tattoo on it. His strong but gentle hands that gave you goosebumps each time they touched yours in passing. Past his tough-guy outside to the kind, thoughtful and honorable man he was underneath.

One night after coming home from a wendigo hunt, you, Sam and Dean were at the bar in town, as usual. Dean had brought back to the table a beer for each of you and excused himself to the restroom. Sam watched you as you absently twirled your beer bottle without drinking it.

"So, when are you going to tell him?" he asked.

"Tell who, what Sam?" you responded cautiously.

"Tell Dean that you are in love with him," Sam replied.

"That's ridic--" you started.

"Oh come on, I'm not blind. Neither is Cas, and he said something first," Sam explained.

"Castiel knows?" you whispered. "I'm just fooling myself anyway, Sam. Dean doesn't see me as anything but a friend. Doesn't change the way I feel about him, though," you said softly.

"Listen, any man would be lucky to have you look at him the way you look at Dean. He's just too hard-headed to notice. I know I would be lucky, but you love Dean, not me. You should tell him," Sam advised.

"Maybe, Sam. Maybe," you said as you gave him a quick smile and excused yourself to the restroom. As you rounded a corner, you nearly stumbled into a couple with their arms wrapped around each other. You noticed the man was smiling and making serious eye contact with a gorgeous blonde. Then you realized who "he" was. A look of hurt crossed your face as Dean called out your name.

You threw open the restroom door and gripped the sink, trying to steady your nerves. You decided that you'd had enough fun for one night, and that you were going home. As you walked out of the restroom, you overheard Dean's conversation with the blonde.

"Well, who is she? How do you know her? Is she your girlfriend?" the blonde demanded.

"She's someone I work with, I guess you could say we're friends. She's not my girlfriend, we're not involved or anything. It's not like that between us," Dean explained.

Dean did not see you as you walked past him and the blonde, then over to your table. You told Sam you were going home because you were tired. He said he understood and offered to drive you home, but you declined. Sam suspected it was something else that made you want to leave but he didn't say anything. You walked back to the bunker, silently cursing because you'd forgotten your jacket and a cold wind was blowing.

You changed out of your cold clothes, took a shower to warm up and got into your pajamas. Then you locked your bedroom door and crawled in under the covers. You didn't want to talk to anyone about anything that happened in the bar tonight, especially with either Sam or Dean. Silent sobs wracked your body as you lay in bed. Unfortunately, you now had confirmation that Dean wasn't and probably never would be in love with you.

Over the next few weeks, you mostly kept to yourself in your room. When you ate, you took your meals mostly in your room, while doing a lot of reading and watching Netflix. After that night in the bar, you just couldn't face what you felt was pity in Sam's eyes or Dean's indifference. In fact, you realized that it hurt too much to see the boys day after day. You decided that you couldn't stay in the bunker anymore. As soon as you had the place to yourself, you would be packing up and leaving.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the way home from a hunt, Dean shared some of his observations about you with Sam.

"I'm telling you, Sam, something isn't right with her," Dean said. "In the past few weeks, she's hardly come out of her room much, if at all. Even when she does, she hardly says two words to either of us, and that's only when we speak to her first. Plus, I don't think she's eating on a regular basis either. That and....I miss her."

"Really? I had no idea you felt this way, Dean," Sam remarked.

"I've gotten to know her, through her hunter training, and in between sessions. Let me tell you, she's something else. Picks up on new skills after being shown only a couple of times, she's an excellent shot. AND she can almost kick my ass," he chuckled.

"Is that all, Dean? What about off-the-job? How do you feel about her?" Sam asked.

Dean paused for a few moments before answering. "Ah, Sam, she's amazing. Her eyes are so expressive. You can almost tell what she's thinking just by looking in her eyes. Her smile is so genuine and it lights up her whole face. She has a kind heart, she always looks for the best in people, and she definitely doesn't give up on anyone or anything. That much is obvious after the way things started out between us. Most women wouldn't have put up with me or my crap for that long," Dean finished.

"Well, when did you first start noticing that something was ‘off’ with her?" Sam asked.

"There was that night we all went to the bar after that wendigo hunt. I was hanging around with that blonde chick, and....Oh Chuck," Dean said as the color drained from his face.

"What?" said Sam.

"When she walked by me on her way to the restroom, that blonde asked me if she was my girlfriend. I said it wasn't like that between us, that she was someone I worked with, a friend," Dean replied.

"Hmm. She came back to the table and told me she was leaving, that she was tired. I offered to drive her back to the bunker, but she decided to walk. I went to her door to try and talk to her when we got back, but her door was locked and the lights were off," Sam explained.

"She must have overheard what I said to that blonde. Dammit. Try her cell, will you? I've got a bad feeling about this," Dean said grimly.

Sam tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. "Nothing, no answer," Sam replied, as Dean mashed down the accelerator.

"Dean, what do you think is going on?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, Sam. I just have a bad feeling that for some reason or another, she won't be there when we get home," Dean explained.