#werewolves in schools are dangerous things

[bibliophilicstranger]

What if Snape was killed by Lupin when he transformed after Sirius sent Snape there/James was too late?

There's definitely enough for a long fic here and I think there are a few different ways it could go (this is not exhaustive, there are so many domino consequences of this).

The implication from the books is that if Snape had been killed by Lupin, that Sirius would be sent to Azkaban and Lupin killed. James and Peter would have been the only Marauders left and they'd probably have been devastated. It well could have brought them closer together, or it could have driven them apart. Either option could have thwarted Peter's betrayal, either by making him more willing to stand up for James or by eliminating him from James' trusted circle.

I had always assumed (as many fans did) that the werewolf prank was in the Marauders' sixth year, but apparently there's something in DH (the book I'm least familiar with) that suggests it happens in fifth year, before O.W.L.s. This could mean fans were wrong, or it could be that Rowling messed up her own timeline.

If it did happen before Snape called Lily a "Mudblood" then she was still friends with him, and she might well refuse to ever talk to James again, especially if he ever tried to defend Sirius. This would certainly derail the whole series and maybe Neville would have been the Chosen One instead. Conversely, their grief over the death of their friends could bring them closer together if she knew James tried to intervene or he was sufficiently remorseful and they might end up closer earlier.

If it took place in sixth year, Snape's death would be less impactful on Lily. They wouldn't actively be friends and while she might not think Sirius was in the right (absolutely she would not), I think Remus' death would hit harder than Snape's at that time. Any ire against James for supporting Sirius might be less (especially if she knows of Sirius' struggles and separation from his family) but there's still the same possibilities as above.

Dumbledore would have taken a massive political hit. There would have been huge backlash to having allowed a werewolf to attend Hogwarts and he may well have lost his job. He might not have lost the confidence of the Order, but it would have hampered his ability to recruit. Even if Dumbledore kept his job, no werewolf would ever have been allowed to attend Hogwarts again, even secretly.

Now for the more interesting variations.

If Eileen Prince was dead by the time that the werewolf prank happened, then it's possible that Severus' death could have been covered up by Dumbledore. Tobias, as a muggle and one not fond of magic, probably had no idea of how to contact Hogwarts and probably wouldn't have cared much if Snape went missing. He could have assumed Snape was staying with friends, or had left school to get a job (the school leaving age being 16 in the muggle world in the 70s). Snape's friends' families could have been more of a problem but it's possible Dumbledore could have explained Snape's disappearance by his father pulling him out and moving to another country, his father calling him home for a family illness and/or even his father killing him while he was home visiting. It wouldn't have been difficult to take one muggle and change their name, move them, and make them forget they had a son. Unethical, certainly, but not undoable. Tobias also could have been dead by this time. If so, there would be no one to miss him in the muggle world and estranged relatives who'd assumed his guardianship taking him to live elsewhere could be the excuse. If it's fifth year and Snape was still friends with Lily it would be harder to handle, but as long as Tobias was gone before her parents could check, then Dumbledore could probably pull it off.

Remus killing a student would have been bad for Dumbledore politically, as explained above. Dumbledore could have decided that instead of exposing Remus to punishment, the whole matter should be hushed up. Remus was 'chronically ill'; it couldn't have been difficult to fake a worse illness that required him to leave school. Alternatively, if it was being hushed up, Remus could have stuck around, but with even more indebtedness to Dumbledore and stricter regulations. I also wouldn't put severe mental health consequences out of the question to desolate ends.

In this case, dealing with Sirius could have taken several forms. Dumbledore could have used guilt and the threat of having him arrested to push Sirius to leave Hogwarts on his own, having him run away. He could have punished him for a false reason, such as being out at night or a prank that he was caught in the midst of setting up, something that would lead to massive points loss and detentions, even expulsion if a suitable excuse could be found (though it seems very hard to expel students, considering what characters have gotten away with in the series without such an occurence). Alternatively, Sirius could have escaped punishment entirely, were it too suspicious to punish him.

The interpersonal relationship changes however, would be immense. Even if hushed up so that only, say, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Sirius, Remus, and James knew what had happened, there would still be outward signs of the aftermath. Sirius and Remus' friendship would likely be permanently broken. James and Peter would be caught in the middle between them if Sirius remained at school. James wouldn't approve of what Sirius did, but if Sirius was significantly contrite, I find it possible that overtime their friendship could mend. Would Sirius still be allowed to stay with James the next summer? If James doesn't tell his parents, they'd probably still welcome him home.

Although she and the rest of the school would know that something happened from the way the Marauders were behaving, Lily probably wouldn't know what happened unless someone involved told her. She might never find out, or might only find out much later. James would probably sober up and mature quite a bit because of the incident. An estrangement from Sirius might pull James and/or Remus closer to Lily. One of them might tell her out of guilt, but if they were admitting it freely and they were at odds with Sirius, she probably wouldn't take it out on them (though she might well take it out on Sirius, even without being able to say why).

Beyond all this, it does have interesting implications for the prophecy. If there is no Snape, it's possible the first half is never given to Voldemort. If it's never given to Voldemort, he never has reason to target Neville and Harry specifically, they never go into hiding and they die or don't die/are attacked and vanquish him depending on if he attacks their families for the other reasons he already had to go after them.

If it's heard by another spy, perhaps they hear all of it because they're sneakier, or less of it, or exactly the same amount. If all, then Voldemort knows not to attack them, or attacks the parents and steals the children to raise as his own. If less, maybe he has more options and chooses a different family to attack.

Another spy likely wouldn't have turned double agent over the decision made by Voldy, so Dumbledore wouldn't have had a spy in his ranks. He would have operated with less information, though as he knew the contents of the prophecy, he could have figured out who the likely targets were and worked to draw the conclusion he wanted out.

Snape has a large impact on the later events and putting a hole in the narrative where he is would have fascinating consequences. You'd have to fill the gaps in some how, with different characters, different relationships, different series of events. Beyond setting up the Voldemort-Harry conflict, the life of every Hogwarts student from 1981(?) onward would be changed as Snape wouldn't be the potions professor.

Feel free to tag me or send an ask if you have a story that addresses this!

[cheriecelestial]

Jacob Black's Self Saving System Pt.1

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ crack.swearing.not proofread

synopsis *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Jason, a self-proclaimed no. 1 Stephenie Meyer hater, finds himself unexpectedly transmigrated into the very novel he disdained. Following this ironic twist of fate, he is now tasked with the challenge of creating a better version of the story himself.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Inspired from @duckysprouts ’s series. It’s so good ⁉️‼️. If you haven’t seen it already, PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT. Like finally svsss content that isn’t shizun sphinx cats or binghe skin creature abomination. Art and concept so fresh it made my heart cry with joy and pulled me out of my three-month long writing slump. So, I humbly present this as an offering to our lord and savior, Ducky. Comment, Reblog and Like (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Pt 2

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer was a modern classic in its renaissance era with a large cult that loved to hate it. Set in a place with relentless rain, mist shrouded forest and an ethereal light piercing the gloom — the light being the one of only Edward Cullen. Though the statement is subject to fan bias — he was a man, rather sparkly vampire, who somehow managed to be both irresistible and perpetually constipated. 

Nonetheless, his charms never overshadowed the stellar performance of our female lead, Isabella Marie Swan— better known as Bella — a teenager who gained worldwide fame for having a personality less vibrant than a wet cabbage. Together, they navigated the perilous world of teenage angst, vampire baseball, millenia old racist italian politicians and werewolves with a curious t-shirt allergy, all in an impressively monotone palette.

It was a heartwarming tale that began with awkward stares, cryptic yet nauseatingly clichéd conversations and Bella’s inexplicable attraction to danger, making the romance as thrilling as it was perplexing. Meanwhile, the supporting cast of her high school friends, each with their own irrelevant quirks and subplots, served as convenient plot devices — appearing and disappearing at the whim of the author.

And as if her love life wasn’t tumultuous enough, Bella befriended Jacob Black. A werewolf who, unsurprisingly, hated all things vampire and Edward Cullen in particular. Between Edward’s brooding, Jacob’s abs and Bella’s classic damsel-in-distress antics that made poor Elena Gilbert seem unremarkable by comparison — the story unfolded with the subtlety of a glitter bomb and reached unprecedented heights of melodrama. Something that helped the tale become a global phenomenon, demonstrating that improbable love stories can indeed shine in their own sparkly “skin-of-a-killer” fashion.

“This has to be the worst piece of literature I’ve ever read in my life.” Those were strong words from a man who spent years and at least six hundred dollars collecting softbacks and hardbacks in every special and limited edition the series offered. Jason Black was an anti-fan who lived to scoff at the literary mediocrities of authors who, after taking one look at their drafts, believed they deserved to be released into the world as actual literature. Such people, often inspired by similar works, spawned their own deranged narratives, subsequently contaminating the sanctity of literature. 

In layman’s terms, Jason was a fervent hater of the highest order. He had a long list of things he despised about the series, yet curiously, re-watching the movies and re-reading the books always found its way to the top of his to-do list every other weekend. But do not get him wrong, not once did he say anything in favour of the series. Jason simply considered it one of those brain-rotting pieces that needed to be experienced to truly appreciate the beauty of classics like Emily Brontë and Jane Austen.

_username_1 : Bruh stfu. You’re probably an unemployed loner with nothing better to do in life than to be a keyboard warrior.  

_username_2 : then idk buddy don’t read it ? It’s not that hard. 

Jason huffed at the screen crossily, his fingers dancing over the keyboard unsure of what to type next. With a sigh, he stretched his arms as if preparing for battle. And a battle it was — being an anti-fan required more dedication, practice and patience than being a regular fan. What he didn’t realize was that he had knocked a water bottle off the table onto the frayed cord of his PC.

He couldn't fathom why people defended it as if their lives depended on it. If he ever met Stephenie Meyer, Jason would have a long talk with her about the plot—or rather, the lack thereof. With the number of plot holes in the books, they could qualify as swiss cheese. The inconsistencies were glaring: if sunlight made them sparkle, wouldn't they still sparkle during the day, just less brilliantly ? How did Jasper and Alice not overhear the phone call despite having super-hearing ? Why did Jasper go ballistic over a papercut when he attended a school where students would get paper cuts and scrapes all the time ? Why were vampires and werewolves the only species to exist ? And why was Bella, or more specifically her blood, so exceptional ? Did she perhaps descend from a line of flavourful blood havers or was it due to her mother's partial albinism ?

Was she special because she was the female lead, or was she the female lead because she was special ? There were so many unanswered questions and half-assed excuses for the events in the story that most explanations came from clever fans trying to make sense of things the author clearly put no effort into planning or thinking through. These questions had plagued him since he first read the series, and the lack of satisfying answers only fueled his irritation. So much so that Jason was embarrassed for the author. Regardless, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was going so he did what any intelligent person would do, i.e., spew hate comments and log off. 

edward_my_bbg : Dumbfuck novel, Dumbfuck author 

And as if on cue, a new notification popped up, dragging him back into the fray. It was another comment, this time mocking his apparent obsession with the series he claimed to hate. Jason’s face flushed with irritation as he furiously typed a retort, but before he could hit send, his screen flickered and went black. 

He looked down and realized the water bottle he had knocked over had short-circuited his PC. With a groan, Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark screen. It seemed the universe had decided to give him a break from his self-imposed battle. His hand fumbled in the dark for the plug only to feel water on the surface. The sharp pain and crackle of electricity were the last things he knew before he plunged headfirst into endless darkness.

[Activation Code:「Dumbfuck Author, Dumbfuck Novel」 ]

[System activated] 

[Pairing command successful]

“What system ?” Jason asked out loud into the void even though he knew that it was most likely a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t expected to receive a reply however he did receive one much to his surprise. 

[Welcome to the system. During the opening of the 「you can you up」system currently in its development phase, we wish to provide you with the best experience. It is our sincere hope that during the process, you will achieve what you have stated: to transform a piece of stupid writing in accordance with your wishes into a high-end, expansive, and classic work. We wish you happiness.]

Jason blinked, trying to make sense of the message. He glanced around the dim room, half-expecting to see some kind of holographic interface or futuristic display but there was nothing. Just the voice in his head and the darkness. “What the hell is this ?” he muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.

[You have been selected to participate in the beta phase of the 「you can you up」 system. Your task is to improve the story you despise, turning it into a masterpiece. All resources and guidance will be provided to you. Do you accept this challenge ?]

Jason hesitated, the situation seemed absurd, yet a part of him was intrigued. As he sat in silence, a thought occurred to him—what if he could actually fix all the plot holes that drove him up a wall ? Maybe this was his chance to prove he could do better. But then, the possibility of all of this being real seemed too slim. How did he get here ? What happened to him after the electric shock? Was he dying, or was he already dead ? "And if I don't accept ?" he asked, uncertainty and fear bleeding into his voice despite his attempt at maintaining his composure. The system responded quickly in the same mechanical tone as before.

[Your connection between your former body and soul was severed before the initiation of the program. If you choose not to accept, you will be returned to your previous reality with no changes made. This opportunity is unique and will not be offered again.]

“Severed from my body ? Wait— doesn’t that mean I’ll die if I don’t accept ?” Jason's question hung in the air, met with nothing but silence from the system. The lack of response only confirmed his fear.

The system's silence was deafening, seemingly pressing him to make a decision. Realizing he had little choice, Jason took a deep breath. “Fine, I accept,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. How bad could it possibly be ? 

[Command acknowledged. Initializing story rewrite mode.]

The void around him began to shift and wrap. Till now he felt as though he was floating with no sensation except the system’s sound. His reality dissolved into swirling colours and Jason felt himself being pulled into a vortex. When the chaos settled, he heard a man’s voice call out to him. Unlike the clinical tone of system, this voice felt comforting and personal. He could feel tender warmth run through him however he couldn’t quite figure out what the voice was saying. 

“Son ? Can you hear me ?” 

“Dad ?” Jason murmured involuntarily, his voice hoarse as if he had just woken up from a long sleep. The gravel in the voice reminded him of the joys of his childhood when his dad was still — wait a second. Who the hell is that ?

His eyes struggled to focus as his eyelids fluttered a few times. Eventually, he was able to make out his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. Unlike the damp ceiling of his old apartment with its peeling plaster and harsh lighting, this one had old glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers. It wasn’t familiar, but it seemed oddly comforting, like he had known it all his life. He slowly turned his head and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a wheelchair beside him with concern clouding his face. The man's russet complexion was lined with wrinkles yet his hair was long and lustrous.

“Where am I ?” 

“You’re at home. You’ve been asleep for so long, it’s alright if you’re confused. Take your time son.” The man he called ‘dad’ answered sincerely.

Jason’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. The familiarity of the room and the comforting presence of the man didn’t align with the reality he remembered. In that moment, everything came back to him—his death, the void, the system, everything. Jason went into what could only be described as psychological shock. His brain went on autopilot.

The man reached out to grab Jason’s hand, but Jason flinched and pulled away. Slivers of hurt flashed in the old man’s eyes as he slowly withdrew his hand. Jason hadn’t meant to react so harshly, but the information dump combined with the influx of sensory input, he was simply too overwhelmed to cope.

“I-I think i need some space. Do you mind ?” Jason spoke each word carefully, then added, “...dad,” feeling strangely guilty for hurting his feelings. The old man nodded slowly and wheeled himself out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Jason jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. "Who the FUCK is this?"

Staring back at him was a boy, fifteen or sixteen, with the same russet skin as the old man and glossy black hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. Recognizing the features, Jason knew this could only be one person.

 [System activation successful ! Binding your role as : Jacob Black]

[System : Booting Up]

Jason, now Jacob Black, stared at his reflection in disbelief. The reality of his situation hit him like a shit ton of bricks. He brought his fist to his mouth and sobbed into it, and here he thought college was devastating. “But I’m Team Edward,” he choked out between sobs. “That’s so fucked up.”

[Thank you for initiating the execution of the system. You are not bound with the account ‘Jacob Black’. All resources and guidance will be provided to you in due time. Initial B points : 100]

Jason—Jacob—felt a rush of confusion and frustration. “Now what the hell are B points ?!” he yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the unfamiliar room. The loudness of his own voice startled him, making him realize just how different everything felt in this new body.

[As the plot progresses, a number of opportunities to gain more points will be available. Please make sure your B points are not lower than 0. Otherwise, the system will automatically impose penalties.]

He stumbled back from the mirror, running a hand through his hair, which was definitely longer and thicker than he remembered. He could feel the strength in his limbs, the vitality of youth coursing through him. Yet, despite the physical vigor, his mind was in turmoil. He had transmigrated into the very novel he hated; the universe always seemed to have a field day when it came to ruining his life. Jacob looked around the room that was littered with the relics of a life he had to now live — a cozy bed with rumpled sheets, a desk cluttered with schoolbooks and posters of motorcycles, bands and scenic landscapes on the walls.

“Um, so is Bella here ?” Jacob asked, scarfing down the bacon his dad made for him. Despite stressing over the role he was supposed to play in the story, he quickly adapted to his new life. He had a family, a house to live in, no worries about finding employment, no bills or taxes, a social life—or at least he assumed he had one—and, most importantly, no backaches. In hindsight, this might not be all that bad.

“Oh, you remember that ? Charlie said she’s arriving in a couple of days,” his dad, Billy, replied. Jacob felt a strange mix of anticipation and relief. Unlike most unfortunate transmigratees, he had no death flags to worry about, so he could sit back and watch Bella and Edward fall in love without “Jacob” interrupting them. Maybe he could even make things easier for Bella by acting like the perfect wingman. Who cared about making a better story anyway ? And once he had seen his OTP together, he could take his ticket out of town after the wedding and never return so that he could avoid the whole Renesmee business because some fates are worse than death.

[WARNING: Your plan is extremely dangerous and constitutes a violation. Please do not attempt it, or the system will impose strict penalties.]

Jacob choked on his water as the sudden warning window popped up in front of him. For a moment, he was so immersed in the domestic comfort of his new life that he almost forgot about the cursed system. His father looked at him with concern.

“Water went down the wrong pipe, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Jacob said awkwardly, trying to reassure his father. So you can read minds now ? He internally taunted the system.

[It is a feature designed to ensure maximum support for the user.]

“That’s bullshit. Also, what do you mean by violation ?” Jacob asked. Does this system really have no respect for privacy ? If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was some kind of Zuckerberg’s meta gimmick.

[You are currently at the beginning stage. OOC function freeze is activated. You must complete the beginning stage before any functions can be unlocked. If you perform any actions against the original ‘Jacob Black’ role before the functions are unfrozen, a certain number of B points will be deducted.]

Given his extensive time spent on the internet, Jacob was well aware of what OOC meant, and he knew it wasn’t a good sign. OOC stood for Out Of Character, referring to actions taken by a role that deviated from how the character was originally written.

“FUCK OFF. I’m an adult. I already finished my degree and Bella is like, a baby. And you can forget the whole Renesmee shit too. Bella belongs with Edward and and I have no intention of pursuing either her or her future daughter. So back off, you creep of a system.”

[WARNING: The system is issuing another alert. If your B points fall below 0, you will incur a penalty, which involves being automatically transported back to your original world.]

“You know, threatening me with death is really getting old,” Jacob stared at the warning message with his anger mounting. It felt like the system was encroaching on every aspect of his new life, imposing rules and restrictions without offering any clarity or real support.

He took a deep breath, trying to push past his irritation. There was no point in arguing with an automated system, especially one that clearly had its own agenda. Jacob decided to focus on what he could control. He needed to immerse himself in his role as Jacob Black and complete the introductory stage without attracting undue attention. The system’s warnings might be annoying, but he couldn’t let them derail his efforts to adapt to his new life.

As he finished his breakfast, Jacob glanced around the house. It was warm and welcoming, albeit a little messy, which was understandable. He and his dad were the only ones living there and according to his dad, he had been inexplicably unconscious for almost a week. Keeping the house tidy wasn't exactly a priority for a man worried sick about his son.

“Thanks for breakfast… Dad,” Jacob said, still not used to the idea of having a father again. There was the whole issue of stealing the real “Jacob” ’s life, dealing with imposter syndrome, and the guilt of replacing the memory of his own father by calling this old man his dad. But that was an existential crisis he chose not to mull over at the moment, especially on the precipice of the story's start. Call him selfish, but he preferred to focus on his blessings.

“I’ll go take a walk. I’ve been asleep for a while, so I need to… uh, stretch my legs,” Jacob said awkwardly, hoping Billy wouldn’t notice anything strange about his behavior.

“Sure thing, son. Also grab some red meat from the store for dinner. A growing kid like you needs that protein. And buy yourself something nice with the leftover money,” Billy replied, taking out his wallet and handing him some cash.

Jacob stared at the man in awe. As a kid who had bounced around the foster system after his dad died, he was used to being scorned and neglected. This might be part of the reason why he had become a social recluse, spending his time bashing bad literature and authors online. To him, Billy Black was the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel.

Jacob took the money, still feeling a bit dazed. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to say, pocketing the cash. The air filling his lungs was much fresher than the pollution-riddled air of the city he used to live in. Nature seemed a lot nicer than he remembered. So, here's a lesson for the kids—don’t wait until you die and get transmigrated into a novel you hate to understand the importance of getting outside and appreciating nature. In short, go touch some fucking grass before it’s too late.

Almost as if by instinct he found himself at La Push beach. He wandered through the familiar yet new surroundings, trying to piece together his plan. If he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the best of it. He thought about the story and mentally reviewed his plan. He would stay under the radar, be friendly but unobtrusive and focus on blending in with the locals. If he played his cards right, he might just manage to navigate this strange new life without getting points deducted by the system’s restrictions.

After strolling along the shore for a while, Jacob found a rock to sit on and watch the ocean. It was a stark contrast to the urban jungle he was accustomed to, this place was serene and almost idyllic.

“Ayo, is that Jacob ? Hey, Jake !” he heard someone call out. A moment later, a boy close to his age ran up to him, followed by one more. “Um, hey guys. How’s it... going ?” Socializing wasn’t one of Jacob’s strong suits; in fact, it was the exact opposite of the skill he had meticulously avoided developing over the years.

“Man, the whole crew was freaking out about you. You were out cold for a week and for no reason !” One thing Jacob appreciated about the system was the introduction tags above each character’s head. The boy speaking was named Quil, his cousin from the Quileute tribe. He knew these interactions were unavoidable, given their significance to his new role in the plot.

“Well, I got better ?” Jacob attempted a witty quip but cringed at how poorly it landed. To his surprise, the two boys just laughed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Stop by Sam’s sometime; he’s been asking about you,” Embry said, giving Jacob a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Wait Sam ? Right of course. Duh. Sam’s place. Got it.” Jacob replied, blinking in confusion for a moment. Sam Uley was the Alpha—or at least the to-be Alpha—of the pack Jacob was supposed to join during New Moon.

[Mild OOC warning]

“Ay man, you feeling okay ?” Embry asked again, noticing Jacob’s hesitation. Jacob froze, Embry Call was the real Jacob’s best friend and if he figured out that Jason wasn’t really Jacob, it would spell massive trouble for him.

Jacob forced a smile. “Uh, yeah. I just—” He quickly tried to think of something. What would Jacob Black say in this situation ? What does he do to feel better ? He racked his brain for answers, knowing he needed to play the part convincingly, at least till he found a way to unfreeze the OOC function.

Go bother Bella ? a small voice suggested. Bella’s not here yet dumbass, another voice countered sharply. After years of social isolation, Jason’s inner dialogue had evolved to the point where he could have entire discussions with himself. No, he wasn’t schizophrenic.

“—I was just going to grab some red meat to chow on and uh y’know, work on my bike,” he finished, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.

Embry and Quil exchanged a knowing look, which made Jacob's anxiety spike only to burst into laughter. “Classic Jake. At this rate, you might end up marrying your bike,” Quil teased and Jacob laughed along, though he desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“Just take it easy, yeah ? We don’t want you passing out on us again. By the way, there's a sale at the store on the other side of town,” Embry squeezed Jacob’s shoulder reassuringly again. The familiarity they seemed to share with him was comforting, even if he felt like an imposter. He knew he had to get up to speed quickly if he wanted to maintain this facade. They soon parted ways and Jacob headed towards the store.

The store lady was overly enthusiastic upon seeing Jacob. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his face or the fact that he was a regular. As Jason, he had always been below average in looks and physique. Whereas, by the virtue of being the second male lead of a popular teenage romance novel, Jacob Black was undeniably attractive. With his deep-set dark eyes, prominent cheekbones, and beautiful long hair, he looked like someone Jason would have envied. Maybe he could try his hand at modeling once the story ended, because there was no way he was putting himself through college again.

And as unpredictable as the weather of Forks was, it began to rain. Normally, Jason would wait it out and then go but now that he as in Jacob’s body, he thought to test his body’s limits. Like c’mon a little drizzle isn’t going to hurt a big strong werewolf alpha-to-be. He stepped out into the rain, feeling the cool droplets on his skin. It was refreshing, almost invigorating. Jacob’s body seemed to handle the cold and wet far better than Jason’s ever did. As he made his way back the store, he noticed people giving him friendly nods and waves. It felt strange to be acknowledged so warmly, a stark contrast to the anonymity he was used to.

At the red light he stopped, waiting for it to turn green. Sure, there were no cars around and he could have just walked, but road rules were no joke. He liked this life too much to risk having it taken away by truck-kun. “Hey system, is double isekai a thing?” he asked. The system didn’t reply, so that was probably a no.

Jacob glanced to his side and saw a person standing under a large black umbrella. A strong sweet scent pricked his nose. How strong does this guy’s cologne have to be to reach me even with the rain ? There was a name tag hovering above the person’s head, but it was obscured by the umbrella, as was his face. One thing he had learned was that only people relevant to the story had name tags over their heads, which meant this person was a character in the story. He looked down at the stranger’s hand—it looked like porcelain.

Jacob felt a sense of foreboding, creeping up his veins. His instincts were on high alert, telling him that this stranger was no ordinary person. The rain began to pour harder, each drop bouncing off the asphalt with increasing intensity.

The person probably noticed Jacob staring and as he did, the umbrella tilted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a pale, almost ethereal face with piercing golden eyes. The moment their gazes met, Jacob was momentarily blinded by a brilliant golden aura radiating from the name tag above the person’s head.

[Edward Cullen]

Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, it had to be Edward. What were the odds of encountering your favorite character on the very first day of your new life ? He felt his knees weaken. Despite the dim lighting and gloomy setting, Edward was undeniably striking. The rain seemed to fall more slowly around him, as if even the weather was reluctant to mar his flawlessness . His tousled bronze hair framed his face perfectly and Jacob felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it. Despite all his criticisms of the novel, Edward had always held a special place in his heart for reasons Jacob couldn’t quite explain.

Damn, this mf looks anemic as hell. Maybe I should feed him. It was a half-serious thought, borne from both concern and his internal struggle to reconcile his feelings towards the character with the reality of his situation.

[OOC WARNING! OOC WARNING!]

[Edward Cullen is your enemy.]

“Fuck off, he’s my babygirl,”Jacob shot a mental retort at the system in exasperation and a streak of protectiveness. The system’s declaration that Edward was an enemy wasn’t misplaced given Jacob’s role in the novel but that didn’t mean it wasn’t at odds with his feelings.

Edward had always been his favorite character, a source of fascination and admiration. This was supposed to be his chance to explore and perhaps even improve upon the narrative, not to be embroiled in conflict with a character he held dear.

Jacob didn't even notice when the light turned green and Edward started walking away, his steps soundless on the wet pavement. Acting on impulse or perhaps some hidden desire, Jacob found himself walking towards Edward and grabbing his elbow, accidentally knocking his umbrella aside. Edward stopped and turned to him as the rain continued to soak them both. His gaze was like a sharp, unyielding beam of light, cutting through the rain. His eyes, an unusual shade of golden amber, held a depth that seemed to pierce directly into Jacob's soul, scrutinizing every hidden corner of his being.

[OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC!]

[EDWARD CULLEN IS YOUR ENEMY]

I’m so stupid — I forgot completely. Jacob and Edward haven’t met yet. Maybe… maybe I can salvage this ? Be a dick and still be nice ? He definitely didn’t want to end up on Edward’s bad side, nor did he want to break the system’s rules. Annoying as it was, the system was what kept him alive. Though he’d never say it out loud, he was terrified at the thought of dying, again. The system’s constant reminders of their supposed enmity were starting to grate on him, but he couldn’t afford to make more mistakes. What was a man to do when every choice seemed fraught with peril ?

Ack — he’s staring. Can he hear my thoughts ? I hope not. He and Bella meet soon, if I remember correctly so— Jacob’s anxiety skyrocketed under the weight of that gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat drumming in his ears. A tight knot of dread twisted in his stomach and whether it was the rain or not, he could feel cold sweat forming on his palms. He needed to say something—anything—that wouldn’t completely derail the plot but also wouldn’t make Edward hate him from the start, even if it was inevitable.

“Oh uh — my bad, dude. I just thought you looked kinda sick so I thought — I mean,” Jacob scrambled for an explanation, forcing a nonchalant tone as he released Edward’s elbow. He felt like a small animal trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, desperately searching for a way to escape unscathed.

“—Uh, here.” He shoved the raw steak he had just bought into Edward’s arms. The system fell silent for a moment, as stunned by his actions as Jacob was. The sound of the rain was almost deafening as awkward silence stretched between them. Edward looked down at the raw steak in his hands, confusion and surprise painting his features.

Without waiting for a reply, Jacob quickly turned on his heel and hurried away, his footsteps splashing through the rain-soaked pavement. “Later ! Get that iron up and be the lady killer you were born to be !” he called over his shoulder. After walking a few metres, he paused briefly and added,“ And seriously lay off the sauvage man !”

As he put more distance between them, Jacob’s thoughts began to spiral. What had he just done ? Did Edward think he was completely nuts ? Or worse, could Edward have read his thoughts and seen through his facade ? Jacob shuddered at the possibility.

[Why did you do that ?]

“I don’t know okay !? I thought it’d help with looking y’know less dead when he meets Bella.” He shrugged. Explaining himself to the system felt pointless considering it was neither his parent nor his babysitter. The system remained silent, as if considering his response, Jacob rolled his eyes.

[OOC ! -20 B points ↓ ↓ ↓]

“Oh come on !”

“Still staring at that bag of steak, Ed ?” The pixie-haired woman leaned over her brother’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Go away, Alice,” Edward muttered, his gaze still locked on the steak as if it held some profound answers of the universe. His fingers occasionally running over the plastic, making the blood inside to squelch against the surface.

“Seriously what’s up with you ?” Alice frowned, dropping the banter. Ever since Edward had returned, he’d been fixated on this bag of steak that suspiciously smelled like wet dog. What was even more peculiar was the fact that she hadn’t had any visions of this event. Normally, Alice caught glimpses of all the interesting things happening with her family throughout the day but she had no clue how Edward had ended up with that steak. And from the look on his face, Edward didn’t look like he was divulging anything either.

“Nothing just… trying to figure someone out.” Edward sighed. Alice was his favorite family member, and he seldom told her off but this was something he couldn’t even make sense of himself. If he told Alice, she’d likely blow the whole thing out of proportion. But despite everything, one question kept lingering in his mind.

Who was that man ?

A.n - should I make this into a series ? If yes please lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist.

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: You catch the eyes of the last person you would expect

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: Working on Doctor´s treatment part 2, if you have any ideas, requests, questions message me!

Nevermore academy, education soil for creatures of kinds you would never even dream of. But preferred by many, you could hear about them as Outcasts. No human with a healthy mind would ever think about walking by their land or the woods. Vampires, werewolves, sirens, gorgons,... you name it. They guarantee you don´t want to mess with them.

Clearly, that´s from a human´s perspective.

As for Outcasts themselves, they don´t feel that way about them. Of course, the dirty looks that are shot their way everytime they step into the Jericho make them a little cheerless, but that wasn´t their image. That is what people created in their heads based on actions and incidents where they weren´t even present.

Wednesday was skeptical about this school, her parents used to go there for a couple of years but she isn´t like them. Or at least that is what she felt and she was sure of it. Breaking rules and always be right is like her second name and looking just at the gate of the Nevermore she knew, this school wouldn´t be any different than others. It won´t hold her inside for too long. And her roommate already persuaded her about her plants as soon as she stepped into the dorm.

The werewolf girl showed her around and explained the system of the school. The girl must admit, it was catching her attention, being around outcasts was indeed more enjoyable than around people, even though sometimes outcasts were more predictable than humans. But still, this reason wasn´t big enough to make her stay.

She wanted to escape and the girl had it planned to the last dot. Packing her things, going to the festival, and meeting up with Tyler. He would then drive her far far away. And it would have gone like this if Rowan didn´t touch her. The vision made her follow him, Wednesday went to warn him about the danger that waits on him in the trees. It turned out that he was the danger waiting for her.

And the thing she witnessed... Wednesday was sure what she saw was real, that it wasn´t just a figment of the imagination. He said that she would destroy the school and everyone in it. But the strange part was that everyone kept declining that as if she didn´t see him all bloody yelling in agony. And that made her stay.

Wednesday was now sitting in Botanical Science class. Unfortunately, she needed to sit next to Xavier who was trying to impress her with his ability. She wasn´t scared of the spiders, otherwise, she was drawn to creatures like this. The spider was slowly coming her way and now everyone was watching the interaction, waiting for the girl´s response.

On the millisecond the annoyed face appeared on Wednesday´s face as she went to slam the fake eight-legged animal but was stopped by a blue flame that was shot straight to the spider. Everyone knew who’s the fire was. You were just sitting there a couple of tables from them looking at the Xavier with an unimpressed look on your face as you held up one finger with the blue fire above. Then the fire suddenly disappeared and you went back to doing your work.

The students around the school knew you, you were unique and a lot of them wished they could do what you can. You hated that, everyone only wanted the power but nobody saw the background of it. Even though they were used to your power, it didn´t stop them from being in awe every time.

The goth girl saw you a couple of times around, she didn´t know under what category of outcasts you belong. Enid only said that you weren´t what most of them were, nothing more. And her roommate wanted but even the biggest gossip girl around the school knew barely minimum about you.

Wednesday shot her eyes at you without moving her head, slowly scanning you. She must say she didn´t expect that. This was the first time she had ever seen something like that. You shot the ball of fire straight at the fake spider and burned it into the ash in seconds, the spider stood zero chance against the fire. It didn´t touch Wednesday but she sure could feel the hotness of the flame.

„Thank you Y/N. Well it looks like Wednesday wasn´t really mesmerized by your skills Xavier.“ Mrs. Thornhill commented and went back to teaching. The boy only put his eyebrows together as he looked at you and then faced the other side of his seatmate in embarrassment. The class laughed under their breaths at the sight of Xavier’s sulking after failing to impress their new classmate.

After the class, Y/N took her books and started to walk away. She isn´t much social person and she doesn´t care about it. The girl likes it better on her own, it feels calmer that way. Y/N only talks when it´s needed, so with her teachers, parents, or her only friend in the school. She doesn´t even have a roommate which is like a win to her.

„Next time your rescue isn´t needed.“

Y/N turned around to the voice and saw a girl who sat with Xavier. She knew of course who she was, she was the talk of the week of course. This was the first time she had seen her from this close, or almost close. It was clear Wednesday doesn´t like crossing the personal barrier between two bodies. But even from this apart Y/N could notice her deep brown eyes which were staring straight into hers and barely seen freckles across her face.

The taller girl only nodded, breaking the eye contact, and walked away from the girl. Wednesday kept looking at your fading figure in the hallway till she could hear tough steps approaching her.

„She caught your eye, huh?“ Enid smirked at her new roommate as she leaned carefully so as not to touch her. „I can´t blame you, she´s really something.“ Enid sighed dreamely at the thought of you and Wednesday now looked at the girl with a slightly disgusted face before turning around to leave.

„Leave these comments to yourself.“ Enid only laughed at her as she started to follow her to their next class.

Wednesday kept thinking about you almost the whole day. More like about your ability. Hate to admit it but it was interesting. Enid said you aren’t wich or some magician that you can just control fire, or more like it´s just coming out of you.

When Y/N is not around they call her a Dragon of Nevermore or just a Dragon, they know better not to call her that when she is near, the girl doesn´t like that. And when she´s somewhere around they don´t talk about her so she wouldn´t hear, for their own safety.

Now was Wednesday´s writing time and she just kept sitting there staring blankly at the empty page. She wanted to continue with her new book but her mind went back to the blue flame every time. She sighed in frustration and went to her bed. Thing saw her thinking hard, she had something in her mind and he was glad that something ripped the thoughts of leaving this school away.

Students were now sitting outside, enjoying food and chatting with each other. Wednesday saw her roommate eating and talking loudly with her vampire friend and a couple of others. She wasn´t a fan of a lot of people but she also couldn´t care less if the attention wasn´t placed on her. She was scanning the pentagon looking for a place to sit. Preferably alone. The girl felt a soft tap on her black boot, there was a Thing facing her.

„What are you doing? You want to be seen by somebody?“ Wednesday hissed at him, trying not to look suspicious. Thing only pointed his finger somewhere. She looked up from him in the direction and found you sitting by the table on your own, quietly eating while looking down at your plate.

Wednesday sighed and made her way to you. She didn´t know why, her mind started to recalculate her options of where to sit. And understandably you were the safest option, she knew you wouldn’t try to talk to her.

And so it was like that. You barely looked at who sat beside you, Wednesday somehow felt like you could feel that it was her, that´s why you didn´t need to look at the new intruder. Students looked their way, now silently watching the invisible interaction between the two of you, looking for any change of behavior they were used to seeing from both of you. But nothing. You just sat there next to each other eating food, minding your business. The girl felt a soft tap on her boot again, this time only to tease her, Wednesday kicked him away not showing any emotion on her face.

The werewolf girl saw you both sitting next to each other, smiling softly at the image. She liked the idea of both of you together, you would look good. It was clear that you nor she were good at social interaction, and this? This was definitely unexpected. Most of the time when someone wanted to sit with you, you looked at them, not saying anything because it wasn´t even needed. They understand very fast what you meant.

You didn´t shoot Wednesday one look.

„How does your ability work?“ Wednesday asked without looking at your side profile as you chew on your food. You kept your stoic face without any unnecessary muscle work not understanding her question. The girl was slowly getting annoyed by you, it seemed like you ignored her.

Wednesday was getting used to people asking her useless questions or pleasing her attention which she ignored. Sometimes she made savage comments to shut them down. This was the other way around, now she tasted her medicine.

Y/N looked at her scanning her facial expression, why would she want to know about her? Of course, not a single muscle moved but her mind was the opposite, jumping from one thought to another not understanding the girl right now.

The young Addams was getting frustrated at the girl beside her. She wasn´t getting a single thing from her.

„Uhm... I don´t understand.“ Y/N finally said looking around to find something to take her mind off of the conversation and the look she was giving her. She didn´t like talking about that.

„Why is it blue?“ Wednesday of course knew why sometimes flame was a different colour than red. But she wanted to know if you could control it to that part when it changed it’s shade or if it was always like this.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and went to eat again, that action completely thorn off the new girl. Wednesday saw that this was getting nowhere so she let it be, but she will get her answers.

Unconsciously, you just become her new prey.

A couple of days went by since the joining of the new student, and everyone slowly started to come back to their things, forgetting about it. There were still students that liked to get on her nerves but most of them now didn´t mind her. They were quite afraid of the goth girl and she obviously had not a bad word for it.

„Y/N! Hey!“ the cheerful voice greeted you as you slowly approached the construction. This was one of your favorite places to go to. Not a lot of people went to this place so it was always so calm in there. The boy had a beekeeper´s suit on holding some equipment in his hands.

„Hey Eugene, how are the bees?“ The girl asked looking at the thing her friends currently work on. He was the only person who made her comfortable to talk with.

They knew themselves since the boy came. He was shy, he still is but back then it was much more, always looking at the ground, not looking at anyone, minding his business. At first, it was like a nightmare to him, he didn´t want to tell his moms that he had no friends, wanted to save them from being worried so it was better to keep that information to himself.

Minding on his own of course didn´t stop the bullies. Why would it, be right? He had never understood why they acted like that to him, it kept bugging him for a long and to the point when he was afraid to go out of his dorm room.

It was like this until it was Outreach Day, it was his first time to go here and he didn´t know what to expect. Eugene was set to work at Pilgrim World and he found him again. It was much worse this time because no one was around to interrupt them from what they were going to do. Unexpectedly someone came, at first the person was trying to talk them out of it but as the boys started to treat that person too, they got beat up. It was Y/N that came to save him. It was like a dream, the boy saw the tall girl a couple of times at school, he always thought that she looked savage, not caring about things that weren´t important. And he wanted to be like her but his mind wasn´t strong enough to believe in himself.

From that day the girl would keep him company wherever he wanted and like a sibling, you had each other's backs. Y/N was Eugene´s role model, someone he looked up to, his moms were so happy to hear that he had someone like her.

„They are good but they missed you!“ Y/N smiled softly at the short boy´s words. It was true, recently they weren´t spending much time together, but it was nothing serious, they just had separate things to do.

„I missed them too.“ She whispered and looked at the bee´s hive outside the window.

Wednesday was walking in the forest. She had to think about this dreadful place, her dead classmate and her loud roommate made it impossible. She enjoyed walking alone through the dense tree foam. It created a dark atmosphere. A lot of people were afraid of woods, but on Wednesday there was nothing to be scared of, she would walk there even in the darkness. She came by the lake as her boots were taking steps along the stones around. There was an old, wooden dock jutted into the water and the waves were dancing along the gentle wind.

Suddenly she heard something from the other side of the lake. She turned her head to the noise, her hunting instinct was now on looking into the center of the sounds. The girl could see a person standing there, hands together in a praying-like position with their head down. It looked more like they were praying or meditating. Wednesday could see slow breaths based on the small shoulder movements along with the person´s chest.

She took a small step to the front to have a better look at the scene. Suddenly the person turned their face in front of them, one leg moved back making them lean a little. One arm was moving up above their head and the other one was stretched in front of their body. Both hands were slowly turned into fists. And what happened next made Wednesday stand in awe.

The fire splutters out of one of the hands into the wind. The person took a step and jumped up turning their body high in the air kicking with their leg along with the hot flame. When they came down they turned their back around now jumping backward landing on their hands as they bounced back into the feet before doing a backflip layout. The blue fire was spewing all around, changing directions like it was listening to your body.

It was absolutely known who it was. You were the only one with the ability to control a blue fire. Wednesday couldn´t tear her gaze away from you. In situations like this, it was hard not to show an interest. The young Addams wasn´t someone who pretends.

The waves of water were lazily moving like a rhythmic melody along with your movements. As she was now standing there from the other side of the water, looking at you almost without blinking, it created the feeling of a border. As if the lake was a boundary separating her and you, separating her body from the unknown, from things that she wanted to know about but didn´t know how to move, how to make the step. So desperate to explore the untouched land.

It has now been a couple of days, the case was moving painfully slowly. Wednesday shared some evidence with the sheriff´s son and Enid. The girl didn´t like getting a lot of people into her soup but at the same time, she wanted others thoughts, even if it didn´t matter to her.

Thing has been quite a handful even with his remarks on someone. The young Addams have been sitting with you every lunch break, without a single word or glance. Just sitting there, quietly eating not bothering each other. Enid and Thing were great at getting on her nerves by teasing her about it.

Why they were like that? Wednesday didn´t know, she was only sitting with you at lunch, without any interaction at all.

Since that time in the forest, she didn´t see you use your fire. You barely use it. A lot of students were shocked when you burned that spider-like they weren´t used to seeing that, and now Wednesday knew.

They are currently having a class, she and Enid were sitting together paying attention, or at least one of them.

„Hey.“ Enid whispered leaning her head slowly into her classmate's direction. „Do you know where is Y/N?“

„How am I supposed to know the answer?“ Wednesday answered with a low voice, taking notes on the paper.

„Well, you are pretty close so I thought you would know.“ Enid shot her a quick glance before facing the teacher again as if she was listening this whole time.

Wednesday stopped her writing and turned to her roommate. „We aren´t close one bit. Just because we are sitting together doesn´t mean we are close.“ Her gaze was sharp looking straight at the side profile of the girl next to her. Enid didn´t mind her, she was now used to Wednesday´s behaviour so she only smirked.

After the class, she went to Eugene. Now as a member of hummers, she needed to spend some time also in the hives. She owned him for having her back at times when she went to investigate. He was exactly like her brother Pugsley, defenseless against the pitfalls in the world. Somewhere inside of her, she grew a soft spot for him but she didn´t want to accept it. Like always.

„Hey Wednesday, would you mind if we left earlier today? My friend is sick and I need to bring her some medicine.“

Her eyes were enough for her to see that her only friend of him was Y/N. Eugene didn´t talk about you a lot, only sometimes, like that you are also a member of hummers but nothing more. She could see the two of you sometimes in Jericho, walking around or after classes, like two siblings.

But now she knew the reason for your absence.

Y/N was lying on her stomach with a pillow over her head. Even though her room was already dark because of the covered windows, it still felt like there was a lot of light. The bed under the girl was like lying on tough ground. The thought of lying on the ground crossed Y/N´s mind a lot of times. Her body was on fire.

It has been like this for a couple of days, only in her room, without any light or social interaction. The only one she could see this awful day was Eugene, he was so sweet. Where would she be without him, only God knows. He brings her food and all the needed medicine. Even though he was trying so hard to help you nothing worked. And it wasn´t his fault.

Because of your ability your body gets too heated up sometimes, most of the time when you use flames too much. That´s why it´s better to train more so you can control it better and at the same time your body heat. But these were the consequences of the success.

No medicine could help, or at least you thought there was nothing. When this happens you are dealing with it just like this, waiting till it stops.

The knocking on the door tore you away from thinking about this uncomfortable position your body was put into. You just wanted to ignore it, even if it was Eugene but another knocking was heard, this time more louder than the first time. It was too much and your head started to spin around the room as soon as you got up.

Slowly opening the door, leaning against the door frame. You were waiting for Eugene with the food in his hands, you were waiting for Principal Weems with her questions about your absence, and you were waiting for Thornhill with the class work you missed.

What you weren´t waiting for was Wednesday Addams standing right in front of you with a bag around her shoulder.

She was looking at you with her signature stare, staring right at your face. She noticed your fallen eyes, bags under them, and lowered shoulders.

„You look horrible.“ That was her first word as soon as she saw her classmate. It was nothing like compared to the first day she saw you.

„Appreciate it.“ Y/N whispered back at her, not moving a single muscle in her body. The taller girl thought that maybe Wednesday made a mistake and she didn´t want to go into your room. But the Addams never makes a mistake.

She slightly pushed you into the room as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She could feel the heat of your body as she touched your chest in that millisecond. It was too hot and of course, the dark-eyed girl's body was most of the time under the normal temperature of a human body so everything compared to her felt warm. But this was too much, it was like touching a fire with a bare hand.

„What are you-“

„Sit down.“ Wednesday commanded to you, cutting you from sentence and you like a good dog listened to her. You kept your eyes on her the whole time, she went to your table by the wall, pulling up her bag with some things, and she started to do something. You didn´t see what she was doing because the only thing you could see was her back.

Wednesday then turned around to you, holding something like a small cup with some strange liquid in it. You wanted to gag at the smell of it, it didn´t look drinkable.

„Drink it.“ She pushed it even further to your mouth as you only pushed your head back away from it. Was she trying to poison you? You wouldn’t be so surprised, it was Wednesday after all. She was getting frustrated by your childish actions so she took the back of your head and brought you closer to the cup. The taste of it was awful, you just wanted to throw up.

„Swallow it.“ And you did. You could feel it as it went down your throat it was cold but so refreshing after your high temperature.

„Now lay down, you will feel better. Believe me.“

And you did. Lying in that uncomfortable bed, praying to fall asleep quickly.

„It´s because it´s hotter than red. I can’t control it.“ You said with your eyes barely opened. Wednesday kept looking for you to continue. „Blue fire is hotter than red. That´s why it´s like that.“

„I know.“ She whispered back. You don´t remember much of how you fell asleep but before the Hypnos took you away you could see her sitting on your chair looking at you. 

The next day Wednesday was sitting eating her lunch at your table, again without you. She must admit it felt strange but nothing she couldn´t manage to get over.

Suddenly she felt a presence next to her, and the dark-eyed girl slowly turned to the person who dared to sit next to her. Her eyes were met with the person she helped yesterday. She didn´t expect you to recover that quickly, she was guessing you would be fine by tomorrow, but here you are the next day.

„I see you feel better.“ She commented looking at your figure, as if yesterday you weren´t dying from high temperature.

„Yes, thanks to you.“ You still kept looking at her, your eyes were wide staring at her silently thanking her. Wednesday looked at her plate, not giving you another glace, her plate with food was now the most interesting thing.

„You don´t have to thank me.“ You only smiled at her actions, it was cute like she was embarrassed for helping you. You need to pay her back.

A couple of days went by and a lot of things changed. The two girls started to talk more, it was most of the time on the lunch break or sometimes when they caught themselves in hives. They weren´t friends yet but this was a great road to start the friendship between them. Wednesday even told Y/N about her case and her progress from the start.

Y/N was an intelligent, really open-minded person. It was good to have someone like her nearby if the shorter girl needed some opinions. Y/N was always available, she never turned Wednesday down. They spend more and more time together, the young Addams sometimes sits with her in class, or goes to her dorm just to talk or for help, you even told her about your ability more. Wednesday didn´t want to accept it but somewhere deep inside of her she knew, she had grown a soft spot your you

Now it was soon to be Rave´N Dance and you were thinking about it. Going there didn´t even cross your mind in the past, you had no one to go with so every time it came you and Eugene went out and did something. But now it was a little different. Maybe she wouldn´t even go, this didn´t seem like her cup of tea and why would she even go with you? There were a lot of other candidates who would have a bigger chance than you. Or maybe she would say yes, why are you doubting yourself if she didn´t enjoy your presence you wouldn´t be spending so much time together. You need to at least try. And that´s exactly why you were now standing in front of her dorm.

After a soft knock was heard on the door Wednesday did not expect to see you. You were standing before the door a couple of steps back as if you were afraid to disturb the dorm of the two girls. You were wearing your casual clothes, a black oversized hoodie and some big sweatpants, hands behind your back.

„Hey...uhm... I-I´m sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to ask you if...“ you didn´t even look at her, your head was down looking at your shoes. Your voice was low and Wednesday barely caught the sentence that left your lips.

„Y/N you need to talk louder than that, I can´t hear you.“ She just kept looking at you, trying to find the answer by your body language. You were nervous, because of what?

You sighed and turned your head in her direction, looking straight at her face. „I wanted to ask if you would go with me on Rave´N Dance.“

The young Addams for the first time in her life felt like she didn´t know what to say. It was unexpected. Sure it wasn´t like she would decline your offer. She liked you, as a person. You were currently number one closest to her, beside her roommate of course but with Enid it was different.

„Y/N… I already have someone to go with.“

Ouch. Well, it was something you were prepared for but it still hurts a little. Yeah, like she would go with someone like you. God, it was embarrassing.

The taller girl only nodded her head looking everywhere but at Wednesday. She pushed air out of her lungs and slowly pushed her hands from her back. „Y-Yeah okay... don´t need to worry I just thought I would ask.“ You smiled awkwardly and gave her the black rose that was hidden behind your back.

„Here... This is for you.“ You looked into her black eyes, this was the first time you saw her like this, so vulnerable, but only her eyes showed that. „Well I´ll go, you don´t have to feel sorry, I get it.“

She took the flower from your hand as you turned around and started to walk away down the hallway. Her eyes kept watching you till she didn´t see you anymore, her eyes went to the black rose in her hands. It was beautiful.

Wednesday could tell that you were the only person who she ever felt so much emotions because of. And now she felt miserable.

Today was the day of the Rave´N Dance and you were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You wanted to spend some time with Eugene but he had some plans which he didn´t say what it was about so you were just by yourself.

Wednesday wanted to talk to you about it but every time she mentioned it you said it was okay, so she stopped. You didn´t want to know who she went with and if your ego would take it.

The small paper slid under your door, you stood up and took it into your hands. You didn´t know who´s writing was it.

Meet me by the entrance at 9 pm.

-WA

It was sure it wasn´t Wednesday's handwriting. You saw it a couple of times when she was giving you class work which you missed the days of your sickness. But it was her initials because you didn´t know anyone with the WA.

That´s why you came to her dorm looking for answers. You knocked on the door and waited. The note is still in your hands. The dark-eyed girl opened the door, looking at you with a questionable look in her eyes.

„Hey, what brings you here?“

You showed her the note in your hand. „I saw this note, I didn´t know i it was from you or not. You are the only one I know with a name that starts with these initials.“

Wednesday studied the note. It looked like a cheap version of her writing. As if someone was trying to copy her handwriting. It was sure who it was. She´s going to kill him.

Shouldn´t she be preparing? You just noticed her and how she still was wearing casual clothes. The dance started in a couple of hours and she still hadn´t even started.

Wednesday saw in her peripheral vision Thing, he was behind the door giving her thumb up. If he had a face she was sure he would be smiling from ear to ear.

„Yes, it´s from me. I wanted to ask if you would go with me to the Rave´N.“

What?! You were shocked, she wanted to go with you? But, but...

„But you said you are already going with someone?“ Wednesday leaned her head a little to the side, not meeting your eyes.

„Yes but something changed.“ She was still facing the other way but it took you too long to answer to she looked back at you with raising an eyebrow. „Well? Would you go with me?“ You nodded with your head.

„Great, meet me down at nine.“

And after that, you ran as fast as you could.

Wednesday closed the door and looked at Thing with dark eyes, he ran under the bed to hide from her. She just sighed and looked at the rose standing in the jar with a water on her table. She wasn’t really mad.

Your hands were shaking and your body felt hot. What were the main two things you could sense at that moment? You were standing exactly where Wednesday told you to, coming a bit earlier because it´s better than late and you could only imagine what would Wednesday do if you came late.

Looking around the passing by students somewhere double looking to make sure it was you. It was the first time they saw you in formal clothes like this. You didn´t feel very comfortable with all the glares and on top of that those tight clothes.

These things were forgotten at the same time as Wednesday came down. She was wearing a dark black dress and her hair was done perfectly. She looked beautiful, like always. You were glad that you were matching even though you didn´t talk about your clothes. You were also wearing all black.

„Hey.“ She gently greeted you as she came to you. „Are you ready?“

You nodded at her smiling softly, you offered her your arm, didn´t know if she would take it but to your surprise she did. And just like just like that you walked to the ball room. As soon as you stepped in everyone´s eyes were on both of you. It was shocking, sure a lot of people saw you these days together, but you were almost the same. But they didn´t expect to see either of you on Nevermore ball.

Enid was smirking at the two of you, glad it was you instead of Xavier. It was her plan after all and with a little help from Thing it became real.

The two of you decided to drink something and as you were standing there chatting a little with Enid, you saw Xavier´s glarings. Why is he staring at you like that? You didn´t break the eye contact, not letting him win. The dark-eyed girl saw you and took you by your hand.

„Come.“ She was really gentle that night, like a whole new person. But only you could catch that, she didn´t let anyone else see but you.

And you were having fun dancing around, chatting, and drinking. It was so refreshing, you didn´t have this much fun in a long time.

„Thank you for going with me.“ You said as she had her hands around your neck slowly dancing to the song. She kept looking at you with wide eyes. This was the second time you saw her eyes like this, the first time was a couple of days ago when you came to ask her to the dance.

This was the first time you were close like this, your hands around her slim waist and her around your neck. Looking at each other, to others around it looked like you were talking with your eyes. Your body was too hot compated to hers.

Wednesday’s heart was cold, that’s was people around her said and they weren’t far from the truth. But now as she stands infront of you and you are looking at her and holding her like she’s the only one in the world… her heart warmed.

„No need for that. I would do it twice.“ Wednesday said before she smiled gently at you.

[midnightwinterhawk]

I found this unfinished fic rec list in my google docs and I have no idea what the theme was supposed to be so I'm setting it free into the world. I've read all of these more than once but that's the only common thread I can see. 😂

Since @outtoshatter told me to publish it (many, many months ago) this is dedicated to her.

The One You Choose by @asterekmess

13k | Mature

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Sex Therapy by Asterekmess

51k | Explict

Stiles wanders into a club named Eclipse, looking for a one night stand to help him get over his breakup, only to realize that he has no idea what he's doing. Luckily for him, Derek is happy to be his Yoda.

The only problem comes when neither of them are able to keep it to just one night.

In One Kiss You'll Know All I Haven't Said by @aussiebee

1.7k | Teen

Derek accidentally kisses Stiles goodbye. They aren't dating.

It becomes... a thing.

we are the resistance by @callunavulgari

7k | Mature | (Pacific Rim au!!)

“So,” Stiles says after a moment. “Werewolves.”

“It’s a thing,” Derek murmurs sleepily.

Stiles chokes on a laugh. “Yeah, I realize that now. I just, I don’t know why I expected anything different. We live in a world where giant aliens attack every few weeks through a trans-dimensional portal at the bottom of the Pacific, why wouldn’t werewolves exist?”

[Hilary Duff Lyric Redacted] by calrissian18 (@wellhalesbells)

40k | Explicit

Stiles hadn’t been in Beacon Hills in five years, hadn’t seen Derek in nearly as long, when he got the text:

New number: (+530) 365-2421

or

An abundance of overeating and geekery, dangerous caffeine/sugar cereal addictions, surprise werewolves, bird insults, purple-eyed shrimp, reincarnated serial killers (it's cool, he has a leash), poorly played professional baseball, and a love story. In that order.

stuck in reverse by @crazyassmurdererwall

65k | Explict

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, no one deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Step into the daylight (and let it go) by dearericbittle

14k | Mature

Stiles is a grad student with serious insomnia. So when he sees a stranger in need of help, he thinks it’ll be a good way to allevbore the boredom. How the hell was he supposed to know that the weird guy with the baseball cap was a famous actor (and a fucking werewolf)? He just keeps running into the guy. Coincidence? Stiles thinks not.

Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile by @devildoll

40k | Explicit

"Stiles shouldn't accept rides from werewolves he meets behind abandoned convenience stores." In which the zombie apocalypse is just one of their worries.

of gods & monsters by @dexterous-sinistrous

6k | Mature

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Painted Wooden Letters by @discontentedwinter

10k | Teen | (Stiles & John with a tiny side of Sterek)

All he ever wanted to be was Stiles Stilinski.

Smoke & Mirrors by doodle

69k | Explicit

"Mirror twin, actually,” Stiles corrected automatically. “It’s a subset of identical, but we’re not identical in the normal way. I'm the mirror image of him, or him me, whichever way you want to look at it."

Stiles has spent his entire life in the shadow of JJ, his popular, captain of the lacrosse team, jackass twin brother. Now he only has to make it through the summer until JJ goes to college.

Easier said than done when JJ starts hooking up with Stiles' crush, Derek Hale, and there's a dead body in the preserve.

Windows by @drgrlfriend

83k | Explicit

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

Watch as the waves, fall back into place. by DropsOfAddiction

32k | Explicit

Derek rakes his eyes over Stiles’ exposed arms and his gaze lingers on the lithe muscle there. The evidence of years of staying in shape, working as an FBI field agent is blatant and was he always that hairy?

Derek’s mesmerised by the dark hair running up his arms and it’s only when Stiles clears his throat and flails his hands at him that Derek manages to bring his eyes to his face.

Stiles’ brown hair is longer and he looks taller somehow, fitting his body in a way Derek’s never quite seen on him. He looks totally comfortable in himself, propped there against the jeep like he does this every day, like he’s not making Derek readjust his entire world view, just by being there.

Derek scents the air blatantly and he steps closer to him, pleased with the way Stiles’ heartbeat spikes a little, despite his cool demeanour.

“Hey Hale. Looking good,” Stiles grins, still not moving an inch, even when Derek’s only about a metre away.

lovely, dark, deep by @elisela

3k | General

Stiles floats.

That’s all there is to do; the day is sunny and warm, like every other day he’s been in this pond, though he’s not sure how long that’s been. Sometimes he thinks it hasn’t been long, but whenever he tries to think about it, he … forgets. He told Kate once, when she came out to the garden late one night and let a fox tumble from her hands onto the ground, and she’d patted his cheek and told him that merpeople weren’t known for anything but looking pretty, so she wasn’t surprised to hear he didn’t have many thoughts in his head.

Sometimes it bothers him, that he can remember every day he’s been in the pond but nothing before, but if he thinks about it for too long he forgets that, too.

By Any Other Name by @entanglednow

33k | Explicit

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Hide Of A Life War by @etharei

26k | Explicit

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...”

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

One Dollar Yoda by exclamation @adventures-in-a-world-of-fiction

11k | Mature

Stiles is an unbonded spark, so he's been dealing with courting alphas since he was ten. It's gotten a lot worse since he turned sixteen. Some are assholes, some are nice, but Stiles hasn't wanted to spend the rest of his life bound to any of them.

When Derek Hale shows up at his school, Stiles expects him to be just another asshole alpha attempting to buy him with expensive gifts. But Derek Hale puts no effort whatsoever into his courtship gifts. Stiles ought to be offended but instead he finds it refreshing.

On my Way by Gia279 (@outtoshatter)

18k | NR

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

Forward Motion by Gia279

9k | Teen

Stiles and Claudia have just opened their magic shop, finally moving to a brick and mortar store instead of selling potions and amulets from their kitchen.

Derek is having strange dreams, and Peter keeps asking him to go pick up some weird herbs from the new shop while the rest of the Hale pack is in an uproar preparing for their chaotic winter celebration.

Stiles has not one but two embarrassing run-ins with Derek before he manages a conversation with him, and Claudia gets the last laugh.

Shifted by Gia279

48k | NR

What the fuck? Stiles’s eyes snapped open. He leaped back.

A semi-truck blew by, horn blaring in annoyance.

Stiles looked around. His heart quickened at the unfamiliar shadows. His phone rang again, startling him. He fumbled it out of his pocket to answer, fingers sliding awkwardly over the screen.

“Where are you?” Talia’s voice snapped with urgency.

Stiles looked down. His feet were bare and dirty, but he’d still been wearing jeans when he fell asleep. “I’m not sure.”

flint & tinder by grimm

43k | Explicit

Casting spells, chasing monsters, wooing your coworkers and fucking them in their offices - it's all in a day's work for Stiles Stilinski.

North of Salem by @halehathnofury-blog

85k | Explicit

The world is ending in a fight between the supernatural and human worlds. On the front line there are packs that keep the threat at bay and one of them is run by an Alpha wolf and a Spark.

Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That) by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

16k | Teen

“Stiles, I’m serious, I need a favour.”

“That sounds like a trap,” Stiles Stilinski muttered sleepily into both his pillows. “You know,” he continued when the man in his room made no move to leave, “you’d think I’d be used to this. My dad, coming into my room, smacking my ass to get me out of bed, waking me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“It’s almost one.”

“—waking me up at the ass crack of one,” Stiles continued without missing a beat, “and asking for a favour. Given my life growing up with you, you’d think I’d be used to this by now. I think the reason this hits so hard now is that I specifically bought my own apartment so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“Stiles, it’s almost one.”

“—so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of one.”

Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt

68k | Teen

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

Puppy Love by @jerakeenc

7k | Teen

"You stole half the dogs in town," his dad says, hands on his hips. "I should arrest you."

"They're in protective custody," Stiles corrects him. He's trying to sound serious, but it's almost impossible when you have a Pomeranian eating your hair.

Waiting Games Jerakeen

6k | Explicit

Being an only child and heir to the throne, Stiles had always known he may not have the luxury of marrying for love. When he’d realized he was an omega to boot, things had taken an even more uncomfortable turn for him.

Omegas are rare. An omega as the heir apparent is almost unheard of.

Which is why there is no wiggle room when it comes to the tournament.

Don't Worry Baby by @kalpurna

20k | Explicit

"You know you're allowed to ask for vanilla sex, right?" he says, afterwards. "We can do whatever you want. That's kind of the point."

Derek doesn't respond.

The (un)Usual? by @rhysiana

28k | Teen

Stiles works nights at the local college-town diner. Derek is the weird, taciturn new regular who apparently needs huge quantities of food in the middle of the night. Stiles is determined to figure out why.

[magical-reid]

A Little Bit of Normal

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K

Summary: In the midst of Beacon Hills' chaos, you find solace in Stiles Stilinski's playful distractions and heartfelt words, gradually realizing that your friendship is evolving into something deeper. As he confesses his feelings for you, you both share a tender moment that marks the beginning of something real and meaningful.

It was another quiet afternoon at the library. The hum of pages turning and the faint chatter of a few students were the only sounds filling the room. You sat at your usual spot by the window, attempting to study for your next exam, but your mind kept wandering. The books in front of you blurred into a mess of letters and formulas.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your grades—it was just hard to concentrate with everything going on in Beacon Hills. Between supernatural chaos, werewolves, and endless mysteries, school was the last thing on your mind. But you couldn’t just ignore it, not when your GPA was on the line.

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up to find Stiles Stilinski standing at the table, his trademark goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, Stiles,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. He had that effect on you, always able to make even the most stressful days feel lighter.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the table.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m trying. It’s just... hard to focus, you know?”

Stiles gave you a sympathetic look, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I do. But I have a solution.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Do you now?”

He flashed his signature mischievous grin. “Of course. It’s simple, really. All you need is a little Stiles distraction.”

You laughed. “A distraction? I’m supposed to focus on my studies, not get sidetracked by your endless supply of weirdness.”

Stiles smirked, sliding into the chair across from you. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second of all, weirdness is an understatement. And third, who says you can’t do both? You study, I distract. We’ll call it a study session.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable,” he corrected, leaning forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. “And I’m about to prove it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he launched into one of his usual rambling monologues, jumping from one bizarre idea to another. He told you all about a “brilliant” theory he had about why every fast food chain’s fries tasted exactly the same and how he was convinced there was a conspiracy behind it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and before long, you found yourself laughing at his absurd theories and forgetting about the stress of school.

When he saw you laughing, Stiles seemed to glow with a certain pride, as if he had just accomplished the greatest feat. His smile softened as his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you in that little corner of the library.

“So, I have to ask,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly quieter, more serious. “Why do you always look so stressed, (Y/N)? I mean, I know Beacon Hills is... a lot, but you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes.”

You hesitated. The weight of his question hit you harder than you expected. You’d gotten used to the chaos, to the constant danger, but there was always that undercurrent of worry that never seemed to leave you. You pushed it away as best as you could, but it wasn’t always easy.

“I guess... I don’t really know how to stop worrying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much going on. I have to keep everything together, and sometimes, it feels like I’m barely holding it all in.”

Stiles’ expression softened even more. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You know that, right?”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. Stiles was always the jokester, the one who made everyone laugh and took everything in stride, but in this moment, he was serious—genuine.

“I know,” you said quietly. “It’s just... I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. Especially you.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch warm and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N),” he said softly, his voice thick with sincerity. “And if you ever feel like you are, I’ll be the first one to remind you that you’re not. We’re friends, right?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. You felt something stir in your chest, a warmth spreading through you as Stiles’ gaze never wavered.

“More than friends, though,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said the words until they were out in the open. You felt your cheeks flush, but when you looked up at him, you saw the surprise in his eyes.

“You mean...?” he trailed off, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “Yeah. More than friends.”

There was a long beat of silence between you, a breathless pause where everything seemed to hang in the balance. You watched as Stiles’ expression shifted, the playful grin replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your skin in a way that sent a flutter of nerves through you.

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. But... I really like you, (Y/N). More than I should, probably. And I’ve been kind of terrified to tell you that, because... well, it’s you. You’re amazing. And I’m just... well, me.”

You felt your heart race as his words sank in, your chest tightening with emotion. You had no idea that Stiles felt the same way, and hearing it out loud made everything seem more real, more intense.

“You’re not just you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re Stiles. And that’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, the same goofy grin that you loved, but this time it was softer, more genuine. Slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he moved too fast, he leaned in and kissed you. It was brief, but the moment his lips touched yours, a wave of relief washed over you. Like everything was falling into place, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his hand still holding yours, his eyes were full of that familiar mischief, but there was something deeper there, too—something raw.

“See?” he said, teasing once more. “Told you I was the best distraction.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “I think you might be right about that.”

Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair, but this time, he didn’t let go of your hand. It felt different now, more intimate, and you both knew that this was the beginning of something more than just a friendship.

In the middle of all the chaos, all the supernatural madness, you had found something simple, something real. And for once, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

[cryptgrrrl]

So one thing that lives rent free in my head from The Twilight Illustrated Guide and is the wild detail about vampires: they have their own unique scent. Yup, all thanks to their venom. It’s described as a sweet, almost hypnotic aroma that lures in humans (and even other vampires). Think of it like their personal “vampire essence” leaking out, and the venom is what makes that smell so irresistible. 🤯

But here's the kicker: this scent isn’t just a physical thing. It's basically a psychological weapon. 😈 Edward, in particular, uses his intoxicating scent to mess with Bella’s head, making her trust him more and fear him less. And yeah, he's fully aware of what he's doing. His scent acts like this weird form of conditioning, easing her into this false sense of security. So even though vampires are dangerous predators, Bella’s starting to see them as... not so bad. Her attraction to Edward, partly because of his scent, makes it harder for her to really see what he is. 🤷‍♀️

And get this: every vampire has their own scent. Some might smell sweet like honey 🍯, while others could be more intoxicating. It all depends on the human’s chemistry with them, which is kinda mind-blowing. 😳

Vampires’ heightened senses also make their scent super powerful, which is why it’s so addictive to humans. Edward, for example, totally messes with people in Forks (like the poor high school secretary 😬), getting them to do whatever he wants without even trying.

Now, I know they don’t sweat, but... we do know they can produce semen. 👀 Hello, creepy half-human, half-vampire hybrid babies. But anyway, back to the scent. It’s mostly concentrated in their breath, which makes it extra addictive for humans. 😵

But here’s where it gets REALLY interesting: the scents of vampires and werewolves? Polar opposites. Vampires’ scents are like this irresistible, addictive force, while werewolves? They describe the scent of vampires as sickly sweet or like rotten flesh 🤢, and it’s the same for vampires—they can’t stand werewolf scents either. It’s like their chemistry is designed to keep them at odds, which only makes their rivalry more intense.

Oh, and just because vampires don’t sweat doesn’t mean they’re always fresh and shiny. 😆 Remember in New Moon when Edward was living in that rundown, rat-infested mess? His clothes were literally disgusting. And when they go hunting, they sometimes end up covered in blood (which, like, doesn’t scream "fresh," right?). So yeah, even though they don’t sweat, they still have to clean up sometimes. Gotta look presentable, right? Even if that’s not their top priority. 😅

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 9✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Fuff, Angst

Word Count: 8800

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

He met your gaze, a mixture of regret and understanding in his eyes. “Guess I left you with more than a few bruises that didn’t heal so easy”. His voice was quiet, and for once, he wasn’t hiding behind his usual bravado. “I know I… wasn’t around to help pick up the pieces”.

You looked down, tracing the edge of your wine glass with your finger, the years of hurt and healing flashing through your mind. “I tried to let it go, you know? Tried to be… okay”. You took a breath, steadying yourself. “But it’s hard when you can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing. Like you’re trying to move on, but there’s always this empty space that just… doesn’t go away”.

Dean opened his mouth, the words forming on his lips, but you gently raised a hand, stopping him before he could speak. “It’s not your fault, Dean”, you said softly, your voice steady but threaded with the honesty you’d held back for so long. “Eight years ago, you were upfront with me. You never promised me forever; I knew what I was getting into with you”.

You looked down again. “I just… I guess I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d feel enough to come back. That one day, you’d walk back through that door on your own”.

Dean’s face fell, the weight of your words pressing down on him, and he took a shaky breath, the flicker of guilt and sorrow unmistakable in his eyes. “I thought about it… about coming back”, he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “More times than you could imagine. But every time, I told myself you deserved better than a guy who could only give you bits and pieces. I didn’t want to hold you back from having… everything”.

You looked up, meeting his gaze, a mixture of tenderness and hurt in your expression. “Everything, Dean?”, You let out a soft, sad chuckle. “What’s everything without the person you can’t stop thinking about?”.

The vulnerability in your voice broke something in him, and he reached across the table, his hand finding yours, his touch warm and grounding. His thumb traced gentle circles on your hand, grounding you both. “I was scared”, he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Scared I couldn’t be what you needed… that I’d mess up something real and leave you worse off”. He hesitated, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “But not a day went by when I didn’t regret it. Not one”.

Dean’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that held years of unspoken words and hidden fears. “I wanted you to have… kids”, he began, his voice rough, each word a struggle, as if saying it out loud made it hurt more. “That house we always talked about, a life, (Y/N). Not this”. He gestured vaguely, encompassing everything that his life had become—the dangerous hunts, the constant running, the never-ending fight against things that most people only read about in horror novels.

He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s not just ghosts and werewolves, sweetheart”, he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet urgency. “It’s demons, things darker and… worse than I could ever explain. And you don’t belong on that path. I can’t stand the thought of you living in fear—sleeping in dirty motels, wondering if you’re going to wake up the next morning, or if some creature’s going to turn up and…”. He trailed off, shaking his head, his eyes brimming with something raw and unshielded.

“I want you to have peace”, he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “To feel safe, to have that family, to go to sleep at night knowing you’re going to wake up safe in the morning. I want you to have a life that’s… beautiful, and not shadowed by the things I can’t escape”.

You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the quiet, profound ache behind every syllable. Dean had left, not because he didn’t love you, but because he loved you too much to drag you into his world. The realization washed over you like a wave, the years of wondering and hurting suddenly making a different kind of sense.

“But Dean”, you whispered, your voice trembling, “that life… it doesn’t mean much if you’re not there”. You reached up, your hand brushing gently along his jaw, grounding him in your touch, your voice thick with emotion. “I get what you wanted for me, but… all I wanted was you”.

Dean looked away, his jaw clenching as he wrestled with the emotions your words stirred up. You could see it—the conflict, the regret, the deep-seated belief that he was doing what was best for you, no matter how much it tore him apart.

“(Y/N)”, he murmured, his voice thick, each word weighed down with guilt and sorrow. “You don’t understand… you deserve so much more than what I can give you. My life, it’s… it’s a war zone. I’ve seen things, been through things I’d never want you to know about”. His voice broke slightly, and he took a shaky breath, steadying himself. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to stay. But wanting isn’t the same as doing right by you”.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a gesture that felt as comforting as it was heartbreaking. “If I stay… you’ll never be free. You’d be tied to a life that would keep you looking over your shoulder, wondering if I’ll come back each time I leave. And you’d see me—”. He hesitated, his voice filled with a quiet self-loathing that nearly undid you. “You’d see me worn down, one hunt after another, one scar after the next. I can’t do that to you”.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to look away, to let him turn this into a goodbye. “But, Dean… I don’t care about any of that”, you said, your voice thick with the love you’d held onto for so long. “You’re not just some guy who comes and goes—you’re… you’re the one person I never stopped loving. I don’t care about the scars, the hunts, the danger. I care about you. And if you think you’re sparing me from something by leaving, you’re wrong”.

He shook his head, a pained smile flickering across his face. “(Y/N), this life… it breaks you. It’s broken me. And you—you’re strong and good, and I don’t want to be the thing that takes that from you”.

“You don’t get to decide that for me, Dean”, you whispered, your voice firm even as it trembled. “You don’t get to choose what I’m willing to face, who I’m willing to love. That’s mine, and I’m choosing you. I’ve always chosen you”.

Dean’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked as though the fight had finally left him, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his own feelings. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were filled with a raw vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see.

“Do you know how many times I thought about coming back?”, he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though he were confessing a sin. “Every time I thought maybe, just maybe, I’d be strong enough to keep you safe. That we could have that life. But then I’d see… the things I had to do, the people I couldn’t save, and I’d talk myself out of it. I kept telling myself that letting you go was the only way I could protect you”.

Your eyes glistened, a mixture of frustration and heartbreak surfacing after years of keeping it buried. The words escaped before you could rein them in, soft but edged with a quiet, fierce pain. “Nothing… nothing could feel worse than waiting eight damn years, Dean. Eight years for that one guy who took my heart with him when he left”.

Dean’s gaze dropped, the weight of your words settling over him, his own pain evident in the tight line of his jaw, the way he ran a hand through his hair as if trying to find a way to fix what had broken. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, the words clearly failing him. He looked at you as if seeing the hurt he’d caused in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to before, the reality of it hitting him with a force he couldn’t ignore.

Your voice dropped to a whisper, carrying the weight of every year you’d spent trying to move forward yet feeling anchored to a part of your life that hadn’t let you go. “Look where I am, Dean”, you murmured, the words trembling with a quiet vulnerability. “I don’t care about my stupid bookstore, or the dress hanging in my closet that I’ll never wear… every step, every plan, every single moment, I kept wondering… what if Dean was by my side?”.

Your voice gained a quiet, trembling strength, the years of suppressed pain and longing spilling over. “I’m anything but happy, Dean”, you whispered, your voice growing more resolute with each word. “Anything but at peace. Every single day, it feels like I’m just… existing, going through the motions, trying to build a life that doesn’t feel real without you in it”.

Dean’s expression twisted with a mix of frustration and anguish, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the emotions surging within him. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh, his voice sharp, edged with pain. “But you’re alive, dammit. You’re here, safe, in one piece. That’s what I wanted for you, even if it meant…”. His voice cracked, but he pushed on, “even if it meant I had to stay away”.

You flinched slightly at his tone, not from fear, but from the raw truth embedded in his words. He had chosen your safety over his own happiness, a decision that had broken both of you in different ways.

Your voice rose, trembling with the intensity of every feeling you’d held back for so long. “I would trade my damn safety in an instant, Dean”, you whispered, the rawness in your voice making him falter, “if it meant I could be with you. If it meant feeling alive again, actually living instead of just… existing”.

Dean stood up, his expression filled with a mixture of frustration and something darker—something that carried years of wounds, both seen and unseen. Without a word, he lifted his shirt, revealing the bruises and fresh stitches scattered across his torso. But the worst of it was a deep, angry gash just above his heart, the skin around it still raw and healing. You inhaled sharply, a wave of shock and horror settling over you as you took in the reality of what he’d endured.

His voice was barely steady, each word laced with a raw edge. “I was possessed, (Y/N). Literally. There was… someone else in my head, guiding me, forcing me”. His eyes flashed with a bitterness that cut through you, and he gestured to the wound on his chest. “I took this knife—my own damn hand—and I slit my chest open. Tried to rip out my own heart. But it wasn’t me… it was a demon. A demon using me, my own mind, my own hands”.

He paused, the words hanging heavily between you, the rawness of his confession unraveling the walls you’d built to protect yourself from fully understanding what his life entailed. “Is that what you want?”, he continued, his voice breaking. “Because that’s the life you’re asking for right now—a life where every time you turn around, you’re wondering if it’s me, or if it’s something that’s using me to get to you, or to hurt you”.

You looked down, your mind spinning as you tried to process the weight of what he’d just shared. Dean leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed defensively over his bruised chest, his expression hard but filled with a pain that went beyond the physical. There was a rawness in his eyes, a desperate, unspoken need for you to understand, and yet… a hesitance, as if he were daring you to truly see the darkness he lived with.

“Look at me”, he said, his voice low and filled with a bitterness that broke your heart. “And tell me… tell me that loving me is enough to overshadow all of that sick shit”. The words came out with an edge of self-loathing, as if he couldn’t fathom anyone wanting to hold onto someone so scarred, so damaged by things most people could never even comprehend.

The way he spoke—as though even the idea of loving him was something ugly—sent a pang through you. You lifted your gaze, taking in the bruises, the cuts, the haunted look in his eyes, and you felt your own heart ache. He’d endured so much, and he still couldn’t see that none of it made him unworthy. If anything, it made him braver, stronger, someone who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders alone because he didn’t want it to touch the people he cared about.

You took a small, steadying breath, meeting his gaze with an intensity that matched the weight of his words. “Obviously, you don’t know how much I’ve fallen for you if you think any of this would stop me”, you whispered, the words slipping out softly but laced with unwavering conviction.

Dean’s posture stiffened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he absorbed your words, his defenses crumbling in a way that left him looking more exposed than ever. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand how you could look at him that way, how you could see all of him—the scars, the trauma, the darkness—and still be here.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, seemingly at a loss, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “I just… I don’t get it”, he murmured, his voice raw, almost vulnerable. “Why? Why me, when all I seem to do is break things?”.

Dean’s voice dropped to a murmur, barely more than a whisper. “I’m not worth it, baby. Trust me”, he said, his eyes darkening with an ache that went far beyond the bruises on his body, carrying the weight of everything he’d been through, every person he’d lost. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to push the thought of deserving you away. “All I do is bring people down… get them hurt or worse. You deserve so much better than someone like me”.

Your heart clenched at the self-doubt etched into his face, the look of someone who had spent too long believing he was unworthy of love. You reached up, gently cupping his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “Dean, don’t you see? You don’t have to be anything other than who you are. You’ve spent your whole life trying to protect everyone, carrying everyone else’s pain. I know you’ve been through hell and back, and I know you think that makes you damaged somehow. But it doesn’t”.

He looked down, swallowing hard, his expression wavering between hope and disbelief as he leaned into your touch. “But what if… what if all of this, everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve done… it’s too much? What if one day I look at you and I see the hurt I’m so afraid to put you through?”.

You held his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Then we face it together, Dean. Because I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you”.

Your voice trembled as you looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears that held both the ache of the past and the fragile hope for something more. “I spent eight damn years missing you, Dean”, you murmured, the weight of those years evident in every syllable. “Thinking about you, wishing… for nothing but you in my life”.

You took a deep breath, the vulnerability in your words spilling over, raw and unfiltered. “I don’t care about where we go, or what it looks like, or if it’s not what most people would call normal. I just want you. In all those dirty motels, on the road, wherever you go, take me with you, Dean. Please”.

Dean’s face softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in the sincerity in your gaze. His own eyes glistened, caught between disbelief and a kind of cautious hope he hadn’t felt in years. He reached up, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek as if grounding himself in your touch, his hand steady despite the whirlwind of emotions behind his gaze.

“I can’t promise you anything but the life I’ve got… and it’s not pretty”, he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your breath hitched as you whispered, “I don’t care, Dean”. The words left you in a soft, trembling rush, tears beginning to trace paths down your cheeks. “I can’t let you leave me again, not this time. Not again”.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on yours, the intensity in his eyes almost overwhelming. And then, without a word, he pulled you closer, both hands coming up to cradle your face with a tenderness that stole what little breath you had left. His thumbs brushed away the tears as he looked at you, his own eyes shining with a vulnerability he rarely showed. Then, slowly, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like a promise, a reunion, and an apology all at once.

It was gentle at first, like he was rediscovering something precious, but as the years of longing and missed chances caught up with you both, it deepened, each second erasing the distance that had once stretched between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he needed to prove that this moment was real, that you were here, together, in spite of everything.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads resting against each other, both of you were breathless.

Dean’s hands slipped from your face, his gaze holding yours for one more beat before he let them drift down to your hips, his fingers gripping you with a renewed urgency. Without another word, he lifted you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both possessive and tender, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go even for a moment.

Your arms wound around his neck as he carried you down the hallway, each step steady, his eyes never leaving yours. The weight of everything unsaid, everything lost, and everything found again lingered in the air, creating a feeling both electric and deeply comforting. By the time he reached your bedroom, his breaths were ragged, mirroring your own, a testament to the years of longing you’d both endured in silence.

Gently, he laid you back on the bed, his hands still cradling your hips, and his gaze softened, holding a quiet reverence as he took you in. He leaned down, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, then your cheek, his touch warm and lingering as if he were mapping the parts of you he had missed. The room fell into a calm quiet, filled with the steady rhythm of shared breaths and the comfort of knowing you were finally here, together, without any walls between you.

He kissed you again, deeply, fully, as his hands traced the curve of your waist, his touch saying all the words that had lingered between you.

Only a few minutes later, you found yourself straddling Dean’s lap, your hand resting gently on his shoulder, mindful of the bruises and healing wounds scattered across his body. The heat between you both was undeniable, a palpable warmth building with each passing second, but you hesitated, searching his face, worried that even the smallest movement might hurt him.

Dean, ever himself, noticed the hesitation in your eyes and let out a soft, exasperated chuckle, his hands giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “C´mon, sweetheart”, he murmured, that familiar teasing glint sparking in his gaze. “You really think a few bruises are gonna keep me down?”. He tilted his head, flashing that trademark smirk that somehow made your heart race and eased your worries at the same time.

“Trust me, I’m not made of glass”, he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur as his thumb traced circles against your hip. “I’ve been through worse, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, your nerves fading under the warmth of his gaze. Dean leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Besides, if this is how I go out, I can’t think of a better way”. His voice held that cocky, playful edge that was so quintessentially him, reminding you that beneath the scars and bruises, Dean Winchester was still very much himself—unbreakable, stubborn, and entirely in the moment with you.

With a soft laugh, you leaned in, finally letting go of your hesitation. “Alright, Winchester”, you whispered back, “just don’t say I didn’t warn you”.

Dean’s smirk widened, his eyes sparking with that familiar mischief. “You know, I don’t mind a little pain”, he teased, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he held you steady, his hands warm and firm on your hips. “Actually… might even say I like it”. His grin grew as he emphasized his words by pushing his hips up gently, nudging himself just barely inside you, a silent reminder of his impatience and his eagerness to close the distance between you.

The small movement sent a spark of heat through you, erasing any remaining hesitation. Dean’s eyes locked onto yours, holding you in his gaze. “You’re making me wait way too long, sweetheart”, he murmured, his hands urging you closer. “What’s a guy gotta do to show he’s ready?”.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned in, meeting his gaze with equal intensity as you let yourself sink down onto him, savoring the feeling of being close in a way that felt both familiar and brand new. Dean’s grip on your hips tightened, his breath hitching as you settled fully, and for a moment, the only sounds were your shared breaths.

“Damn”, he muttered, his hands moving up your back as he pulled you in for a kiss, slow and deep, his usual playfulness softening into something more intense and tender. “Guess that was worth the wait”.

You couldn’t help but shiver, caught off guard by the intensity, the fullness, as if you’d forgotten just how overwhelming being with him could feel. You took a steadying breath, letting the sensation settle over you, before slowly lifting your hips. Dean’s hands moved with you, guiding you with a care that softened every edge of the moment. His gaze was fixed intently on your face, his eyes heavy-lidded, a quiet awe filling them as he took in every little reaction, every flicker of pleasure that crossed your expression.

His jaw tightened, and he bit his lip, clearly trying to rein in the sounds building in his chest. But a low groan slipped through, despite his efforts, his breath hitching as he felt you sink back down. His hands pressed into your hips with just enough pressure to ground you both, a silent testament to his own restraint.

“Fuck, you have no idea”, he murmured, his voice strained, as if the words were pulled from somewhere deep within him. “No one… no one has ever felt this good”. He shifted slightly, his hands guiding you into a rhythm that made your breath catch.

You let out a shaky, breathless laugh, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his ear as you moved, your voice a teasing murmur. “Is that what you say to all the women you’ve been with these past eight years?”. Your words were light, but there was a hint of something deeper, a vulnerability you tried to hide beneath your playful tone as you sank down onto him again, letting your hips roll in a way that made him groan.

Dean’s eyes darkened, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter, pulling you closer, his own breath coming out in a shudder. He shook his head, a small, breathless chuckle escaping him as he looked up at you, a tender honesty in his gaze. “You really think anyone else could ever feel like this?”, he murmured, his voice low, each word laced with that familiar intensity. “Trust me, no one even came close”.

He lifted his hips to meet yours, his movements growing a little more insistent, as if to prove his words. His gaze stayed locked on yours, a silent promise in his eyes. “It’s just you”, he whispered, his voice rough. “Always was��.

A quiet whine slipped from your lips as you looked down at him, your fingers tracing a path along his shoulder, your voice barely a murmur as you teased, “I don’t believe you”.

Dean’s eyes narrowed playfully, a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tilted his head, his hands pressing you down against him with a gentle, insistent pressure. “Oh, you don’t, huh?”, he murmured, his voice low, almost daring. “Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you”.

Dean shifted, turning the two of you over despite the clear discomfort it must have caused him. His eyes glinted with that unmistakable spark, the one that told you he wasn’t about to let anything hold him back. You felt him still inside you, steady and unyielding, his warmth grounding you both.

Your gaze drifted down to his chest, taking in the angry, jagged cut just above his heart. The stitches looked haphazard, as though they’d been done in a rush, and the surrounding skin was a mix of deep purples and blues—evidence of just how much he’d been through. Gently, your fingertip traced along the edge of the bruised skin, your touch feather-light, filled with worry and tenderness.

Your voice came out in a quiet murmur, worry lacing your tone. “Dean… it’s infected”, you whispered, your fingers hovering over the wound, the red, inflamed skin and rough stitches telling a story of hurried care and relentless battles. You could feel the concern flooding through you, the urge to make him rest, to tend to his wounds.

But before you could say more, Dean’s hands found your hips, grounding you. His eyes, filled with an unwavering intensity, held yours as if to say he’d handle every ounce of pain if it meant proving just how much you meant to him. Without a word, he shifted, pulling you closer, his own pain evident but ignored as he thrust deeply, a gesture meant to bring you back to the moment, to remind you both why you were here—together.

A breath caught in your throat, a mix of sensation and shared vulnerability bringing you back, anchoring you to him.

Dean's voice was low, rough with both determination and an edge of vulnerability. "I want you here with me, sweetheart", he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours, his hands steady and grounding on your hips. "I’ve waited eight years… so stop worrying about something stupid like me".

His words hung between you, raw and insistent, filled with a depth of feeling he usually kept hidden beneath layers of armor. You could feel his sincerity, the unyielding need that drove him to push past his pain, to have this moment with you, undiluted and real. He wanted to make every second count, to show you that even through all his scars, he was still yours.

You felt the last of your reservations fall away, leaning into his touch, matching the intensity in his eyes with your own. “I’m here, Dean”, you whispered, your voice steady, your hand resting softly over his heart, feeling its strong, unbroken beat.

"Good", he whispered, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he leaned in, brushing a tender kiss across your mouth. His touch trailed down along your jaw, his lips grazing your skin with a gentleness that made your breath catch. All the while, his movements were unhurried, savoring each moment as he thrust slowly, steadily, holding you close as if he wanted to prolong every second of this closeness.

There was an intimacy in his touch, a quiet reverence that spoke volumes without a single word. Each gentle thrust, every brush of his lips along your neck, felt like a vow, a promise made in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. The world seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you—no past regrets, no fears of what was to come, just the warmth of his skin against yours and the shared rhythm you’d fallen into together.

It felt like coming home.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as you instinctively tightened around him, your body responding to his touch, to the feeling of him moving within you. Every inch of him felt achingly familiar, yet new, as though the time and distance had only intensified the way he filled the spaces you’d kept hidden for so long. It was overwhelming, each slow movement stirring up emotions you hadn’t let yourself feel in years, everything raw and unfiltered.

For Dean, every sensation felt like a reunion, a rediscovery of something he’d lost but never truly let go of. The warmth of your skin, the softness of your touch, the quiet gasps you made as you held onto him—each was a reminder of the love he’d left behind, of the emptiness that had lingered in every city, every hunt, every lonely motel room. The pain and sacrifice, the years spent convincing himself you’d be better off without him, all of it melted away in this moment.

Both of you moved in sync, guided not by urgency but by a quiet, reverent understanding of the time you’d lost. His hands held you with a mixture of tenderness and need, each brush of his thumb against your skin, each press of his body against yours, a silent reassurance that he was here, now, and he wasn’t going anywhere. The weight of eight long years, the ache of missing each other, faded into a wordless connection, a love that hadn’t dimmed but had only grown stronger, waiting patiently to be reignited.

In that moment, there was no doubt, no lingering fears—only the overwhelming relief of being together, two hearts finding their way back home.

You spent hours wrapped up in each other, lost in the warmth and connection that had been denied for so long. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word filled the room with an intimacy that felt like both a reunion and a promise. The night stretched on, and the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared breaths and murmured affection.

By the time the clock neared three in the morning, you were both spent, your bodies exhausted and drenched in a comfortable sheen of sweat. Dean’s face was flushed, a shade deeper than usual, his breathing heavy as he finally allowed himself to collapse beside you. He let out a quiet sigh, a contented sound, as though just being there, with you, had lifted the weight he’d been carrying for years.

You turned toward him, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from his forehead, but as you did, you noticed the warmth radiating from his skin, hotter than usual. A small frown tugged at your lips as you gently touched his cheek, the flush there not entirely from the hours spent together. His eyes flickered open, catching your worried expression.

“Dean… you’re burning up”, you murmured softly, concern etching into your voice.

He gave a lazy, dismissive smile, waving off your worry. “I’m fine”, he mumbled, voice thick with fatigue. “Just… been a long few days, that’s all”. But the weariness in his gaze, the slight edge of fever in his flushed skin, told you there was more to it than he was willing to admit.

You pressed your palm firmly against Dean’s forehead, feeling the heat radiate through your hand—a clear sign that his fever wasn’t just “nothing”. Your gaze traveled down to the wound on his chest, your concern deepening as you took in the angry, red edges of the cut. It was obvious that the stitches were barely holding, and the faint yellow tint around the area spoke to a growing infection. The rough bandage job and few pieces of surgical tape were only making things worse, failing to keep the wound clean or properly closed.

“Dean… this isn’t just a little fever”, you murmured, your voice edged with worry. “This is serious. You need proper stitches, and we need to take care of that infection. You can’t just ignore it and hope it goes away”.

He let out a sigh, his attempt at a reassuring smile faltering under your concern. “I’ve had worse”, he said quietly, but even he seemed to know how thin that excuse sounded as he shifted uncomfortably, the strain on his face evident.

You stood up from the bed, slipping into your satin robe. As you moved toward the bathroom, you could feel Dean’s gaze on you, and even though you knew he was stubborn enough to resist, you weren’t going to let this go. Pulling the first aid kit from the cabinet, you began rifling through its contents, mentally cataloging what you’d need.

“Dean, you really can’t keep brushing this off”, you called over your shoulder, your tone leaving no room for argument.

He shifted uncomfortably, grumbling in that way only he could. “You know, just because you took one semester of medical school doesn’t make you a doctor”, he muttered, his voice holding that familiar mix of sarcasm and exasperation.

You returned to the bed, raising a brow as you met his gaze. “And I’m hoping you’re just this mean because of the fever”, you shot back, unflinching, though your worry softened the edge in your voice. “Otherwise, I might start thinking you don’t appreciate the fact that I’m trying to keep you from ending up with an infection that could put you in the hospital”.

Dean huffed, averting his eyes. “I appreciate it”, he mumbled, begrudgingly. “It’s just… I’m fine. I’ve had worse, really”.

You let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes as you took a closer look at the wound, the jagged edges of the stitches clearly the result of a rushed, one-handed job. You stepped between his legs, hands on your hips as you inspected the inflamed, swollen area, barely able to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“Who the hell stitched this up, anyway?”, you muttered, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at him, fully expecting an explanation.

Dean looked away, a bit of embarrassment flickering over his face before he grumbled, “Did it myself. Sam wasn’t around, and I wasn’t about to go to some clinic just so they could tell me to ‘take it easy’”. He paused, glancing at the bruised mess on his chest, almost as if seeing it through your eyes. “It wasn’t exactly my best work”, he admitted, his voice barely more than a mutter.

Your heart softened despite yourself, knowing how fiercely independent he was, how he hated being vulnerable. You let out a slow breath, the mix of worry and tenderness filling your chest. Gently, you touched the skin around the wound, your fingers brushing softly as you examined it.

"Clearly”, you mumbled, trying to keep the frustration in your voice light as you unscrewed the cap of the antiseptic. You soaked a cotton pad, glancing up at him for a brief moment to give him a wordless warning. Dean was already bracing himself, his hands gripping the bedframe on either side, his jaw tightening as he looked down.

The second the antiseptic touched his skin, he sucked in a sharp breath, his knuckles going white as he held onto the bed. His entire body tensed, his eyes squeezing shut as he muttered a string of curses under his breath. You couldn’t help the tiny smirk that crossed your lips, a part of you secretly pleased that you were getting back at him just a little for the stress he’d put you through.

“Hurts that much, huh?”, you teased, though there was an unmistakable gentleness in your voice. You dabbed carefully, doing your best to be gentle while still cleaning the wound properly.

He let out a strained chuckle, his voice rough. “Feels like hellfire, sweetheart. But don’t let me stop you… ”, he bit out.

You gave him a sympathetic but firm look, your tone softening slightly as you said, “You know I’m going to have to take these stitches out, right? They’re… not doing you any favors. I need to redo them, and it’s going to hurt—probably a lot—especially with this infection”.

Dean’s face twisted in a grimace, his fingers flexing around the bedframe as he let out a resigned sigh. “Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to hear at three in the morning”, he grumbled.

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before going all DIY surgeon on yourself”, you teased, your tone warm but edged with concern.

Dean scoffed, though his grin was tight as he braced himself. “Yeah, because I have so many other options on a hunt”, he muttered, a hint of defiance in his voice.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fingers gentle as you began to carefully peel back the old, grimy surgical tape. He hissed, the tension evident in the way his hands tightened around the bedframe, his jaw clenching as he tried to mask the pain.

“Don’t be such a baby”, you murmured, attempting to keep your touch as soft as possible. “Big, tough hunter, but a little bit of tape has you groaning like that?”.

He shot you a look, his usual bravado slipping just enough to reveal the discomfort. “Yeah, yeah”, he ground out, wincing again as you finally pulled the last bit of tape free. “You try dealing with it and see if you’re all smiles and rainbows”.

“Maybe I would be”, you replied, giving him a teasing smirk, though your voice softened as you took in the state of his wound. “But seriously, Dean… if I’m not here next time, maybe just skip the home surgery routine?”.

Dean’s expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “Maybe I’ll just… stick around, then”, he mumbled, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. The unexpected confession hung in the air, heavy but laced with something hopeful, and you felt your heart tighten.

“Yeah”, you replied softly, letting the weight of his words settle over you both. “Maybe you should”.

As the last of the tape came off, you took a steadying breath and began the delicate process of undoing the stitches, working carefully to minimize his discomfort. Dean’s breath hitched with each slight tug, his hands gripping the bedframe tightly, but he kept his eyes on you, watching every movement as though grounding himself in your presence.

Every so often, a tiny bead of blood would surface along the wound, and you’d pause to dab it away gently with cotton, the antiseptic stinging just enough to make him wince. His jaw tightened, but he stayed still, holding himself steady through the pain with quiet resilience.

“Almost there”, you murmured softly, your voice soothing. “Just a few more, then I’ll clean it up and redo them”.

Dean gave a slight nod, his eyes never leaving your face. “You make it sound like it’s nothing”, he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the strain. “Forget the one semester—you’re practically a pro at this”.

You chuckled quietly, though your focus didn’t waver. “And here I thought you didn’t think I was qualified”, you teased back, trying to keep his spirits up as you finished removing the last of the stitches.

As you carefully set the first new stitch, Dean’s hands instinctively flew to your thighs, his grip tightening almost reflexively as a pained groan slipped through his clenched teeth. His fingers dug in, steadying himself against the sharp sting, grounding himself through the contact with you. You glanced down at his hands, feeling the warmth of his touch even through the tension of the moment, and you couldn’t help but pause for just a second, your gaze flickering to meet his.

“Hold on, Dean”, you murmured gently, focusing on keeping your movements as smooth and precise as possible. “Just a few more”.

Dean’s eyes closed briefly, his jaw flexing as he drew in a shaky breath, his fingers still gripping your thighs as though he needed the contact to anchor him through the pain. “You’re… doing great”, he managed, voice rough but laced with gratitude, the faintest hint of a smirk breaking through despite his discomfort. “Just… didn’t realize you’d turn torture into a bonding experience”.

You let out a soft laugh, the warmth of it soothing the tense air around you both. “I thought you could handle a little pain, Winchester”, you teased gently, finishing the stitch with as much care as you could manage. He huffed out a laugh, squeezing your thigh once in acknowledgment, his fingers relaxing slightly as he took a deep breath.

“One down, a few more to go”, you whispered, your tone reassuring as you moved to the next stitch. Dean’s hands remained on your thighs, steadying himself, and somehow, amidst the quiet pain and gentle touches, a calm seemed to settle over both of you, an unspoken understanding that this moment—like so many before it—was bringing you closer in a way that went beyond words.

After a few more stitches, the cotton pads in front of you were soaked in his blood, a quiet testament to the care and patience you’d poured into every careful movement. You let out a breath of relief as you finally tied off the last knot, your fingers moving with a practiced gentleness as you made sure everything was secure. Just as you reached for a bandage to cover the wound, you felt a subtle tug at your waist, Dean’s hand slipping beneath the edge of your robe, fingers brushing your skin with a warmth that sent a gentle shiver through you.

You glanced down, meeting his gaze, seeing the flicker of tenderness and gratitude mixed with something else—a quiet, unspoken need that lingered between you both. His hand opened your robe just enough for his fingers to rest against your hip, his touch light, hesitant, as if waiting for your permission.

Dean’s eyes softened, an almost playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”, he murmured, his voice low, roughened by the combination of pain and something deeper. He leaned forward slightly, the hint of vulnerability in his gaze grounding you both in the intimacy of the moment. “You patched me up pretty good… now I just need to return the favor”.

Despite everything—the pain, the exhaustion—you felt warmth bloom in your chest, the connection between you two as solid and undeniable as ever.

Dean’s lips trailed ghost-light over your stomach, hovering dangerously close to where every nerve seemed to spark under his touch. His breath was warm against your skin, and you felt the familiar ache of anticipation, even as your voice faltered with concern. “Dean, you need to rest now”, you mumbled, trying to keep your resolve firm as you reached to gather the bloodied cotton and gauze.

But Dean’s hand closed gently over yours, stilling your movements. “Just… stay”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with that undeniable pull that only he could create. He looked up at you, a teasing glint in his eyes tempered by something deeper. “Besides, I think you’re the one who needs to unwind”.

You tried to protest, to insist he should be resting after everything, but his gaze held yours with a quiet determination. Dean’s fingers grazed up your thigh, grounding you in the moment as he leaned in, his lips pressing warm, lingering kisses along your skin.

"Let me take care of you for once", he murmured softly, his voice roughened but sincere.

You let out a soft groan, partly in annoyance at Dean’s stubbornness, but mostly at the way he knew exactly how to coax you into letting go of any protests. Just as you opened your mouth to object, he sank back onto the bed, settling himself comfortably with that signature grin that was equal parts challenge and invitation. He lifted his hand, curling his fingers in a slow, beckoning motion, and grinned wider as he said, “Sit”.

You stared at him, your brow furrowing slightly in confusion. His smirk deepened, eyes glinting with mischief as he saw the uncertainty flicker across your face.

Slowly, you climbed on top of him, instinctively moving to settle over his hips, but Dean’s hands tightened gently around your waist, guiding you higher, closer to his face. His touch was both steady and insistent, and when you finally realized what he wanted, a flush of warmth spread over your cheeks, your heart beginning to race. He looked up at you, his gaze dark and filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken even further.

“Right here, sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low, filled with a soft, teasing warmth that only heightened the intensity of the moment. His eyes held yours, his expression open and eager, as if he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the pleasure of you. His hands settled firmly on your thighs, grounding you, reassuring you that he meant every word, that this was exactly where he wanted you.

You hesitated for just a second, your heart pounding, but as his hands guided you forward, you felt every lingering worry slip away. He looked at you with such genuine affection, that familiar, stubborn patience in his gaze, that it was impossible to resist

As the early morning light crept into the room, you found yourself under the warm spray of the shower, the heat easing the fatigue from a night filled with closeness and quiet whispers. Dean joined you, carefully adjusting his stance to avoid getting his wound wet. Despite his best efforts, you could see him wince every so often, his jaw clenched in concentration.

“You’re as stubborn as ever”, you teased, stepping closer to help shield his wound from the water.

Dean took the opportunity to draw you in, his arms wrapping around your waist with a gentle but steady pull. He guided you back just enough so the water wasn’t pouring directly over you both, creating a small, intimate space where the warmth of his body surrounded you.

You felt his lips press softly against your shoulder blade, a lingering kiss that sent a shiver up your spine. His embrace tightened slightly as he leaned into you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. His hand splayed across your waist, anchoring you both in the moment.

"Thanks for looking out for me", he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated softly against you. There was a rare vulnerability in his tone, a quiet appreciation that went beyond words.

You leaned back against him, resting your hands over his as you both stood there in comfortable silence, the sound of the water filling the room. His hand slid up, brushing a stray droplet from your collarbone, his fingers lingering as if memorizing every curve and line. For a moment, it was as if time stood still, the world outside fading away as you both found peace in the closeness you shared.

With a soft sigh, he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering as he whispered, "I could get used to mornings like this".

You mumbled, barely above a whisper, “You said that before…right before you left me the second time”. The words slipped out, laced with a hint of sadness. You bit your lip, feeling the weight of the past settle around you both, the times he’d walked away despite the promises that still lingered between you.

Dean’s arms tightened around your waist, his hold becoming firmer, as if he could anchor you to him just by sheer will. His breath stilled for a moment, and you could sense his heart beating a little faster against your back, knowing he felt the truth in your words.

You turned in his embrace, looking up at him, a fierce determination in your eyes. “I swear to you, Dean, if you’re not taking me with you this time…”. You paused, your voice steady, holding his gaze without a hint of hesitation. “I’ll hunt you. I’ll join up with every demon, ghost, and whatever else is out there, and I’ll find you. I’m not losing you again”.

A flicker of something softened in his eyes. He swallowed, his hand coming up to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek in a silent apology. “I know”, he said, his voice barely a whisper. “And I’m done running, I promise. You’re coming with me…wherever this road goes”.

You felt the tension melt away as he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. In that moment, you knew he meant it—this time, he wasn’t going anywhere without you. The past may have cast its shadows, but standing there with him, you felt the strength of something real, something that wouldn’t break again.

The warm spray of the shower continued to cascade around you, but the world felt perfectly still. Dean’s arms around you, his forehead pressed to yours, were more grounding than anything you’d ever known. For the first time in what felt like forever, the doubts and fears that had haunted you both were quiet, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

His whispered promise lingered in the air between you, fragile but unshakable, like the first light of dawn breaking through the darkness. “Wherever this road goes”, you echoed, the words a vow of your own, a tether tying you both to the promise of staying together.

Dean looked at you then, his gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness that seemed to reach into your very soul. “We’ve got this”, he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as much reassurance as it was devotion.

You knew deep down that, no matter the battles or storms to come, you’d face them side by side. Together, you had finally found your way home.

-The End-

———————————

A/N: I LOVED writing this one. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28 @ladykitana90

[whereserpentswalk]

You're a vampire. Nobody around you know, some suspect but they don't know. You understand that you're privileged to be able to hide it, there are vampires with maws of sharp teeth, or bat's wings, or other inhuman features, that mean they'll never pass as human. All you have is unusually pale skin, and small fangs, and you can use makeup to hide the first one. People just don't notice, and it doesn't feel like a big deal, because you make it so they don't suspect, so they never ask, so you never have to lie with words.

You have to make it so you look especially human to make people think you aren't a vampire. You wear bright colors, never black, anything people would consider "cute" but not too sexual, things that make you look small and harmless. You don't express interest in anything that seems too vampiric, like any horror media, or the type of music vampires like. And when you have to, you'll look down on vampires in ways only humans do, you couldn't be safe if someone asked why you had sympathy for them, so you don't, you don't look down on them too much, just a casual socially acceptable amount.

And you have to feel certain amounts of pain. You stand out in the sun, you can't always avoid it without revealing what you are, and it hurts, it burns your skin, its bad for you, but showing what you are is worse. You refuse to eat food of course, but you can't tell why, people must think you're starving yourself. But there's always an excuse, even when you're shamefully looking at the waiter, thinking about how he would taste.

There's something shameful about wanting to drink blood and knowing you can't, thinking about what it would be like to taste your friends. It feels like you're hurting them, with these desires that you can never tell them about. If you ever did tell them it would feel like a betrayal. When you saw your first boyfriend naked you felt so sorry about wanting to do that to him. Things didn't work out with him of course, it was impossible to be intimate, your genitals are dead and useless, and there was no way to tell him how much pleasure you'd get just from having him touch your mouth, your teeth, your gums...

There's a jealously you have for monsters who are open about their inhumanity. Vampires of course, but even seeing ghouls, or werewolves, or demons who are out of the closest, living their lives without secrets, being friends with each other, getting to do all of those oh so stereotypical things, it's a strange sense of envy. You used to tell them that you aren't like them that at least you're civilized, but it's all melted away. Sometimes you wish your body had never been able to pass at all, that you looked so inhuman that you could be truly doomed to always be seen as a monster.

Of course, there are just as many times you're reminded of why it's safe for you to stay this way. When you see how vampires and other monsters are talked about by those around you. When you see induvial monsters turned away from somewhere because they're 'dangerous looking'. When you hear what some religions have to say about your kind. Even just the side glances, and desire for distance, that so many seem to have when there's a monster in conversation. The worst-case scenario when someone is targeted by a monster hunter. Even if your college has a lot of monsters, even if your city is relatively accepting, you know you'll never be 100% safe. And you tell yourself that you can avoid all of that.

You were turned into a vampire pretty recently, right out of high school. Your parents seem accepting only on the condition that you're quiet about it. Part of it is that you're not ready for your human life to end yet. You're not ready for everything that you once were to fall away, and not ready for your last chance to have human friends to disappear.

There's a girl in one of your classes who you think is a werewolf, she hides it but not perfectly. You wish you could say so much to her, you wish you could talk to her. You think she wishes the same. You share glances, those glances say so much.

[lunajay33]

Terror🪦

Summary: Going on a Hunt with Dean and Sam, your older brothers, you come across a case that triggers an old memory of fear, things go wrong and they need John to help bring you back from a horrified state

Pairing: Dean x lil sister, Sam x lil sister, John x daughter

•Masterlist•

As a kid you were always interested in the supernatural, whenever you could you’d beg John to tell you his hunting stories or even informing you on creatures, the werewolves, vampires, spirits, they were all so intriguing until….he told you about pagan gods, for some reason they terrified you especially when one case he was working on the Pagan god took you as leverage sticking the fear of god into you, after John had been able to save you, you went into a kind of catatonic paranoid state, you freaked at every noise, didn’t speak for weeks and stayed locked in the motel rooms refusing to leave, after about a month John was able to help cokes you out of the shell you hide in and you were back to your normal self

Flash forward to Now

You woke up to your cell phone ringing, you shot up in bed answering an unknown number

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart is that you?” Your heart dropped

“Daddy? Are you okay are you hurt?” Your brothers woke from your panicked tone

“I’m fine but you need to listen, you’ve gotta stop following me, now take these names down I’ve got a job for you all”

“But……but I miss you”

“Is that dad give me the phone” Dean groaned from beside you but you waved him off

“I know I miss you kids but I can’t put you all in danger give the phone to Dean”

“Okay……..I love you dad”

“Love you too kid”

Dean got the names and you were off driving to Indiana for a new case, on the way there Sam and Dean got into it again about helping dad, parking in the side of the road

“We don’t have to follow his every rule we need to go to California” Sam groaned getting out of the car, you and Dean quick to follow

“Sammy please don’t do this just get back in the car” you said scared he was going to leave again

“I’ve gotta go help, this demon killed mom and killed Jess”

“Sam I swear I’ll leave your ass here” Dean said slamming the trunk

“Then go”

“No sam please stay, don’t leave again”

He didn’t say anything breaking your heart and Dean could tell, you were heart broken when Sam left the first time and when John went MIA it was even harder on you

“Come on kid, we got people to save” you were hesitant to go desperate for Sam to get back in the car but he was persistent on leaving so you got back in the Impala watching Sam disappear in the rear view mirror, feeling the tears brim wiping them away before they fell

“Don’t worry kid you always got me, I’m never going anywhere”

“Thanks Dean”

Getting into the town you and Dean started asking around about the case, two missing people a guy and a girl but the town folk were dismissive and closed off, definitely hiding something

You got directions to where they last left off too coming to an orchard, it was old and gave you the chills

“Dean I don’t like the look of this place”

“Yeah me either, come on let’s look around” you sighed getting out and following him through the orchard until you came across a scarecrow

“Scariest scarecrow I’ve ever seen”

“You got that right” he says climbing up to inspect the thing

“He’s got the missing guys tattoo, think I know what we’re dealing with” he said looking at you with weary eyes as he climbed back down

“What? What is it?”

“Think it’s a Pagan god, they’re sacrifices” your heart dropped feeling instant chills and a wave of anxiety course through you

“Dean no…..you know I can’t….”

“Woah woah calm down, I know I remember, let’s get you outta here” he leads you out of the orchard back to his car

“We’ve got research to do, so we can get the hell outta here soon” he drove to a near by school that had history on pagan gods

“You stay here I won’t be long” he assured as he left

Pagan? Out of all the cases John could send you on it was the one thing that scared you the most

All of a sudden the door on your side of the car opened and the sheriff was there holding the butt end of a rifle towards you then everything went black

You woke up in a dark place with a throbbing pain in your head, groaning you try to get up when you hear something near you

“Hello?”

“Y/n is that you?”

“Dean oh thank god” you sigh making your way over to him listening to his voice, feeling his arms wrap around you

“What’s gonna happen to us?”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you” the doors above opened revealing the people you questioned in the town, the sheriff pointing a gun

They dragged you both out tying you to trees in the orchard

“I’m sorry but it’s for the greater good” the older lady says before they all left

“Oh god it’s happening all over again Dean, why would dad send us on this case?” You panicked as the sun got lower

“I’ll get us outta this”

“How?”

“Let me think?” It was dark now and there was still no plan

There was footsteps behind you getting closer, you scream and cry trying to escape

“Dean? Y/n?” It was Sam he came back

“Oh thank god, Sammy get us out of here, watch out for the scarecrow too” sam starts to unchain you both

“What scarecrow?” You all turn to where the scarecrow is suppose to be hanging and it was gone, groans were right behind you quick to turn and it was the scarecrow coming your way, Dean took your hand as you all ran almost out of the orchard the the towns people surrounded you

“Just let us go” Sam pleaded

“We can’t he needs a sacrifice” he’s stopped when a scythe is driven through his heart given you and your brothers to run making it out of the orchard in time as screams were heard behind you

You collapsed by the side of the impala the adrenaline wearing off as the fear came crashing down consuming you triggering all the memories that you so desperately tried to forget, you woke in a new motel room obviously gone from that horrid town

“Hey sweetheart how’re you feeling?” Dean asked from your bedside you wanted to answer but that fear was still there, it felt like if you just curled up and locked yourself away they pagan gods couldn’t get to you so that’s exactly what you did

You turned away from Dean and didn’t speak, refusing any food, this went on for weeks, until eventually it was two months and you were wasting away, every day was filled with fear and Sam and Dean didn’t know what to do to help you, they tried everything, even while working on other cases they felt desperate like you were one case they couldn’t fix

“Love you gotta eat or get outside we can’t see you like this anymore it’s not healthy” Sammy said but still no response

“We need to call dad, he got her out of this last time, it’s our last choice here” you missed your dad dearly he was always sweet on you, you were his little girl and reminded him so much of Mary

You could hear them calling over and over again desperate for an answer when finally after the 6th time he must have answered Sam

“Dad I know you told us to not call but it’s bad”

“That case a few months back you sent us on it was a pagan god, they got y/n you know how she is with that stuff”

“Yeah she’s like before, but worse, she needs you dad”

He hung up the phone looking at you with a worried look, you felt embarrassed and like a burden, you tried really hard to get better but every time you closed your eyes you saw them

“He’s coming sweetheart, it’ll be okay” Dean said brushing your hair back soothing you a bit

You were sleeping hearing faint voices around you, you opened your eyes to see Sam Dean and John talking in the entry way of the motel room, they noticed your movement and ceased all talk

John made his way over kneeling down by your bed so he was eye level with you

“Hey sweetie, heard you weren’t doing good” you shake your head side to side

“They can’t hurt you, your brothers would never let that happen”

“But……but I’m scared” your voice raspy from lose of use

“I know but you can’t do this to yourself, you’ve gotta be strong”

“I’m sorry” you say your lip trembling

“Not your fault, now come on let’s get you some fresh air”

After that your brothers were there easing you back into everything, eating, hunting and eventually you were back in business but you swore to never work on a pagan case again

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Animagus

@jegulus-microfic May 1, Word count 408

He ran through the woods, the Wolf close behind. They were leading him away from the edge of the forest where he’d been tracking something and forcing him deeper into the forest. Padfoot nipped at his heals, keeping him going in the same direction. Sunrise was hours away. They had to keep the Wolf under control. But the Wolf wouldn’t stop trying to turn around and go back towards the school.

He slowed his canter and looked at Padfoot. They silently agreed that he should go back the way they came and try to figure out what had Moony so riled up. Prongs could think of only one thing. A student was out of bed. 

He charged through the trees, ripping his antlers through the low-hanging branches, his hooves squelching in the thick mud. 

He broke free of the worst of the trees and found what Moony had been trying to get. Regulus Black stood in a clearing not too far from the grounds picking Fluxweed. James transformed and sprinted towards Regulus. He grabbed the surprised boy by the arm, hauled him to his feet and set off running. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, Potter?!” Regulus yelled at him. 

“Shut up! Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out on a full moon?” He didn’t break step as he told Regulus off. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Potter. There are no werewolves in the forbidden forest.” Regulus scoffed, just as a howl was let loose. It was closer than it should be. 

James turned his head in the direction it came from and ran faster. He basically dragged Regulus onto the lawn. 

“Hurry up!” James urged the other boy as they clambered up the steep slope. 

Frantic barking called from the tree line as a humongous silver grey wolf broke through the trees. Regulus gasped beside him. James turned to Regulus and whispered, “Run!” Before running towards the Wolf, transforming into his animagus form and catching him mid-leap with his antlers. He didn’t have time to check on Regulus and just prayed he’d made it back up to the castle. 

Padfoot latched onto Moony’s leg and began dragging him back towards the Whomping Willow, Wormtail holding onto Moony’s ear for dear life. They’d have to keep him locked up there for the remainder of the night, it was just too dangerous. It had been a close one and James knew come the morning Regulus would want some answers that he wasn’t sure he could give. 

Next part

[agaypanic]

Hi, I was wanting to request a Benny (MBAV) story: The reader is a werewolf and after being saved by the group, she is meant to hate vampires but imprints on Benny. She ends up living with him and his grandma.

The Werewolf, The Spellcaster, and His Bloodsucking Friends (Benny Weir X Werewolf!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You were always taught to hate vampires. They were evil, bloodsucking monsters. So what do you do when some of them save you from a bear trap, and then you imprint on one of their friends?

A/N: reader’s an orphan lol i know reader being a teenager and living on her own and stuff is a lil bit of a plot hole but whatevs. Ends on a lil cliffhanger bc i didn’t know how to end it teehee

***

You hoped that moving to Whitechapel would give you the fresh start you wanted. Back in your old town, you accidentally started to raise suspicion of some weird creature lurking in the woods. It wasn’t your fault that once a month, you had to run around howling at the moon and eat an occasional animal.

But that’s why you came to Whitechapel. You had heard that the town was filled with supernatural incidents and people. Being a werewolf, this sounded perfect for you. What was less perfect, however, was that there were more vampires than werewolves in Whitechapel.

Pretty quickly, on your first day of school, you had sniffed out a group of them—two girls and a boy. You decided it was best to keep your distance, especially if you didn’t want to leave town anytime soon.

But one night, on a full moon, that distance was closed tremendously.

You had been roaming the woods on the edge of town, looking for a snack and waiting for the sun to rise. Following the scent of a deer, you stepped into a covered bear trap.

At Ethan Morgan’s house, he and his friends could hear a loud and clear yowl of pain. Wondering what had happened, Rory quickly volunteered to look for the sound’s source. Because of his superspeed, it wasn’t long before he returned, looking both concerned and slightly nauseated. 

“Well?” Ethan asked expectantly. “What was it?”

“Werewolf,” Rory answered, earning a grimace from Sarah and Erica. “Its leg is caught in some kind of trap.”

“And you didn’t help?” Benny asked urgently, already reaching for his things to leave. “Come on, let’s go!”

“No way. It’s probably dangerous.” Erica said, crossing her arms. 

“So are you.” Benny rebutted.

“Damn right, I am,” Erica responded, flashing the spellcaster some fangs and yellow eyes.

After a bit more back-and-forth and some reluctance from the three vampires, everyone finally agreed to go into the forest to help you. With the help of superspeed, they appeared in a flash, wincing as they got a good look at you.

“The leg looks pretty bad,” Benny said, looking at your hind leg, which was caught in the bear trap. “And I don’t know how we can help it when it’s freaking out like that.”

It was true; you were clearly distraught. It was bad enough that one of your legs was cut up, making you writhe around in pain and keeping you stuck to the ground. But then the scent of those three vampires invaded your senses, and you became even more overwhelmed. You kept going between growling at the undead teenagers and whimpering in pain.

“Benny, can’t you find a spell to calm it down? Or knock it out?” Ethan asked frantically, trying to figure out a plan to help you.

You watched one of the non-vampire boys reach into his bag and pull out a thick book. He flipped through it before muttering something with his hand pointed towards you. Sparks left his fingertips, and you started to feel dizzy. 

As you faded out of consciousness, the last thing you saw was the group of teenagers cautiously inching towards you.

***

You woke up the next morning dazed and confused. Sunlight crept in through the window, slightly blinding you. Squinting, you looked around the room only to realize that this wasn’t your room. You started to panic.

“Easy, dear.” A voice made you jump, whipping your head around to look at the door. The source of the unfamiliar voice was an old woman holding a cup of tea. “You tore your leg up pretty good. This’ll help.”

You glanced down at your leg, which was filled with a dull ache. It was bandaged up, and you wondered how bad it looked underneath the wrappings and gauze.

Hesitantly, you took the cup of tea that was handed to you. You figured that in your current state, you might as well trust this stranger. After all, she was probably the one who bandaged your wounded leg.

“My name is Evelyn Weir.” She said, sitting on the edge of the bed you were lying on. “My grandson and his friends found you last night. They brought you here after getting you out of that bear trap.”

“Why?” You asked, voice a bit hoarse. But the tea certainly helped.

“Why what?”

“Why did they help me?” You were beyond confused. “I’m guessing you know that three of them are vampires. And you probably already know what I am. We have a history of not getting along.”

“That may be true,” Evelyn said with a smile. “But just because you were taught to hate each other doesn’t mean you have to. Not all vampires are bad.” She patted your shoulder. “Not all werewolves are bad either.”

After you finished your tea, Evelyn took your cup and stood from the bed. She must have enchanted your drink with something because you were already feeling better than you did five minutes ago. She helped you stand up before leading you out of the room, which you learned was her grandson’s bedroom, and down the stairs.

In the living room, the five teens were sitting around, seemingly waiting for you. They all turned to look at you at the sound of your and Evelyn’s footsteps, making you feel nervous and self-conscious.

“Hey, you’re awake!” One of the brunette boys shot up from his seat, looking at you with relief. “Sorry about the Star Wars sheets, I would’ve changed them if I knew a pretty girl would sleeping in my bed.” The boy beside him hit his leg, while the rest of his friends either snickered or rolled their eyes. “Oh, you probably don’t know who we are.”

The boy introduced the rest of his friends to you, but your thoughts drowned out his voice. It felt like there was some sort of gravitational pull, urging you to go to him. As if this perfect stranger was now the center of your life. 

No. It can’t be.

“What’s your name, dear?” Evelyn asked, touching your shoulder as if she could see that you were preoccupied. 

“Y/n.” You replied, eyes still fixated on the boy who had been talking. 

Who you think you just imprinted on.

And was best friends with a bunch of vampires.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said before anyone else had the chance to. “I’m Benny.”

***

Benny Weir Taglist: @batmandallyboy

[in-flvx]

The thing is. Remus is not working class. Not like the kid of a carpenter or plumber is working class

He wasn't the coincidental victim of a mad man.

At least not according to pottermore (make up wharves you want but I do still think this matters. Class is far more nuanced than rich vs poor in any culture. Even in British culture)

He was a specific target to greyback, bc lyall lupin - recognised and asked after specialist on the topic of anything like werewolves and such, was asked to help out the ministry of magic. Lyall then had a fit about the danger of werewolves in any form. Which is why his son was targeted by fenrir.

It wasn't a random unfortunate event of child engagement. It was a targeted attack on the kid of a man with political power.

Dumbledore wanted remus to attend his school bc lyall had power. He accommodated remus the way he did, because lyall had political power.

Family lupin might not have had money like the potters or the blacks at the time (both of which are debatable imo bc they have, at the point we meet them like 11 years each of unused vaults in gringotts, but that is a different matter and idc about your opinion on this) But they were important.

That is the point!

[stories4thepack]

The moon

Wednesday x werewolf!reader

You wolf out to finally put your bully in his place, but Wednesday (for once) decides that murder is not the best option…

Warnings: violence, blood, reader in wolf form and Wednesday being soft, reader being protective, swearing.

Wednesday was alerted by the screaming of her classmates. She looked up from her typewriter, listening to the bliss filled sound for a moment, willing to stay where she was as whatever happened, happened.

The second Thing tapped your name, she was flying through the corridors to the Quad. Crashing into other students as she charged towards the commotion.

The school was stretched in a circle around something she could not quite see. The werewolves all standing like police in front of the crowd, growling at whatever danger had broken into the school.

For a second, Wednesday thought it might be Tyler. Until, she heard a panicked cry.

When she walked closer, she hear the silent sniggers of some of the students, mainly the sirens.

“Got off you bitch!”

A voice very familiar to Wednesday cried out from in the centre of the circle. A voice she despised with all of her heart.

“Y/n, let him go…”

Came Enid’s shaky voice, the crowd parted as the goth walked into the heart of the circle. A slight smile appearing on her face as she sees what’s happening.

In the centre, stood a grand, magnificent werewolf, teeth bared at the boy who it had pinned on the floor. It’s claws sank slowly into his shoulders as he threw insults and screams at the dog.

At you

Wednesday knew it was you immediately, you were larger and stronger than a regular werewolf and while the other furs had a 50/50 human/wolf look about them, your wolf, looked much more of a bear sized husky than a usual werewolf. This being one of the reasons why some of the werewolves saw you as odd. As a target for bullying.

The stuff they said, usually caused your emotions to get the better of you, meaning that you could wolf out in broad daylight; and when that happened, you didn’t have great control of what you did in your wolf form.

“Fucking Bitch!”

The boy yelled from beneath your great paws, crying out as your claws sank ever deeper into his flesh. Spit dripped from your bared tusks onto the boys face. Ah, Wednesday recognised him now.

Trevor Silverton

Or Something like that. Another Werewolf whose little pack treated you like shit everyday for no apparent reason apart from you being different.

“Wednesday, could you stop your girl?”

Bianca snapped from behind her, but the Raven hair felt reluctant to do so.

One: it was Bianca asking.

Two: you were getting revenge. Entertaining revenge at that.

Trevor screamed as a snap echoed around the Quad. Your claws had broken through his bone, it brought a toothy grin to your Canine face. Wednesday was enjoying this, enjoying the blood soaking the green grass. Enjoying the agonising cries of your bully. But most of all:

She was enjoying this side of you….

“Wednesday, please stop her!”

Enid almost cried from the other side of the circle. Wednesday rolled her eyes. Why was everyone else incapable of looking after you?

She takes a step forward, the sound of her feet crunching on the scarlet grass causing you to snap your feral eyes in her direction. A snarl slipping from your lips.

“Y/n, I will happily assist you in the unfortunate demise of this mutt, but perhaps we could do so without so many witnesses.”

Your girlfriend mutters calmly, approaching without any caution as your eyes scan the crowd of students. Your ears flick as you hear a teachers voice shouting across the courtyard - no doubt Principle Weems.

“Get off of me!”

Trevor shouts, using his knee to kick your stomach. You freeze, before your great head turns to face him again, your eyes burning a furious silver. Wednesday closes the distance between you, placing her hand on the top of your head, your soft fur slipping between her fingers.

“Do not hurt him Y/n!”

Wednesday demands, her voice commanding and powerful, yet with a subtle hint of gentleness that only you would be able to detect. Your eyes flicked up to her face, but open jaw remained poised over Trevor’s throat. Almost asking her why you shouldn’t kill him now.

“What did he do to her Enid?”

Wednesday questioned, never breaking eye contact with you as Enid stuttered her response.

“Y/n came into the quad and Trevor yelled the same fucked up stuff at her. But then, he threw, I’m not sure what it said, but a paper airplane with a note on it, then she wolfed out.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching so tightly that it looked like it would break.

“Where. Is. The. Note.”

She demanded, each word slow and toxic, making the other students around her shuffle fearfully. Xavier arrives from behind her, the crumpled, slightly torn note in his hand Wednesday snatched it off him, her face growing even more furious with each word she read.

Wednesday shouldn’t be dating a pup like you. I bet you can’t even look after her like she wants. If I were her, I would kill myself for dating a messed up dog!

The goth slowly raised her head, her eyes somehow more hate-filled than her girlfriend’s.

“She should tear your throat out right now. I am done with you treating her this way. I have warned you once too many times. The only reason your alive, is because she told me not to kill you, now I think she’s having second thoughts…”

She hissed, hatred boiling in her words. You bark, rearing your head to strike, as if her words were your kill command. But her cold hand returns to between your ears before you can bite down

“Y/n, you cannot give into such a pathetic child. He is nothing but an insect compared to the greater things going on beyond these walls. “

The students begin to turn around as several, running feet can be heard heading towards the circle of pupils. Principle Weem’s heavy breathing loud enough to hear a mile away. You look at your girlfriend, freezing for a moment before slowly edging away from the boy, Wednesday following your steps, a hand on your head the entire time until your both walking side by side out of the Quad. The teachers shouting and panicking about the injured boy and blood soaked Quad behind you.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why did you react like that when you read the note?”

Wednesday asked that night, sitting beside you on the dry earth beneath a full moon. Her black, leather jacket wrapped around your naked form, your torn oversized jumper the only other thing covering you.

“Because he wrote exactly what I was afraid of.”

Your voice is calm, though still with the slight animalistic growl your wolfing out had caused. You rest your head on her shoulder, wrapping your warm hand in her cold one.

“You know that you treat me better than I deserve”

“That’s not true Wednesday, you deserve the world”

Wednesday lays her head on top of yours, something she would never do in public. She was gentle for you, letting her guard down just because you made her soft. Usually she would hate that side of her, but she treasured the way you made her feel.

“But you’ve given my something better, my wolf,”

She whispers, kissing the top of your head as you purr into her neck.

“You’ve given me the moon.”

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 5)

Hi everyone! I am back from brink of death to bring you yet another platter of fic recs. Thank you all so much for you patience and for the continued love you all have shown these posts. I truly appreciate you all.

Also, just in case this has been bothering anyone: you will definitely see more author-diversity and newer fics as I work my way though my bookmarks. I'm working chronologically through my Sterek bookmarks from the oldest to the newest, so that means we're all currently reliving the early Sterek scene together while also getting to experience the moments where I would discover an author whose writing-style I particularly liked and then binged their entire body of work all at once before going back to the main tag's offerings (hence the large number of works by specific authors going on right now). Not sure if that bothered anyone, particularly the point about there being multiple fics from the same authors--people care about odd things sometimes, but I've seen discourse around this specific thing and would like to head it off at the pass--but I thought I'd make a statement about it because I was noticing it and was like "I wonder if this is bothering people...lemme speak on it". And now here we are!

Okay, enough yappin' from me. Let's do this!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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i'm just the same as i was (now don't you understand?) by paradis (T | 1/1 | 2,738)

"You're a virgin," Jackson says. "Everyone says you're a virgin." "Everyone but me," Stiles points out. More silence. Stiles thinks he can hear crickets chirping. "I'm kinda cold," he complains. "Well when were you not a virgin anymore?" Isaac asks, perplexed.

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by nightlights the children pray by hoars (T | 1/1 | 2,745)

Scott leaves for ten years and comes back.

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Nothing is as Bad as it Seems by paradis (T | 1/1 | 3,636)

“I know, it’s a shock,” he says. “But there’s more. Your friends– they’re werewolves. And that’s dangerous, Stiles. But I can keep them away!”

“I know they’re werewolves, you idiot!” Stiles shouts

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Stiles Stilinski's Knitting School for the Were, Other-Worldly and Supernaturally-Inclined by TypewriterLove (G | 1/1 | 3,789)

He'd trawled through online pattern directories, before finding something called Ravelry. Drumming his fingers against the desk, he'd hit the "register now!" button.

ScarletNerded's first action on their new account is to look up patterns with "wolf" keywords.

(In which Stiles ends up teaching the entire pack how to knit- which results in werewolves making socks. Alternatively named "Beacon Hills Stitch & Bitch")

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different definitions of good by preromantics (G | 1/1 | 4,259)

The one where Stiles has a fishy sort of excuse for not getting in a boat on the ocean. "Maybe I'm not really into the idea of getting caught by the coast guard on a stolen boat," Stiles says. Which, while not the reason Stiles definitely needs to stay behind, is also a pretty valid reason.

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No Destination by scottmcniceass (T | 1/1 | 5,043)

It's not like they're going anywhere in particular. They're just driving, getting away for a bit. Escaping everything. Together.

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Well Tempered by jsea (T | 1/1 | 5,290)

His fingers start moving almost of their own accord, and it feels easier suddenly. His fingers feel less clumsy, and the music that flows forth isn’t quite so somber anymore. It’s not the happy airy sound he wants so desperately to give to Stiles, but this feels right in its own way. More him. More them.

Or, the fic where Derek used to play piano, and he does again. But only for Stiles.

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we are tangled by drunktuesdays (T | 1/1 | 5,716)

"Derek was at your house?" "For like ten seconds," Stiles said. "I'd say it was weird, but is anything about Derek ever not weird?"

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can't be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin (T | 1/1 | 6,260)

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma."

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

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Flint and Tinder by rufflefeather (T | 1/1 | 6,781)

"Hi," a voice comes through and Derek really wishes it’d take more than that to know who it is.

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The Alpha to My Alpha by CupcakeGirlA (T | 1/1 | 10,717)

“Derek will kill you. He’ll tear you limb from limb!” Stiles says, scrambling away from him. The Alpha ambles closer.

“No, I don’t think he will,” the Alpha says. “I mean aside from killing a couple of hikers in his territory and doing him this favor, I haven’t really done anything to Hale. Once I’m gone he’ll probably be happy with the gift I’ve left for him.”

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Derelictions of Duty by Regann (T | 1/1 | 10,846)

No one wants to be the bearer of bad news to someone as nice as Sheriff Stilinski -- especially when he's your boss. That's why none of his employees want to be the first one to tell him about the scandalous goings-on between his only son and the former murder suspect Derek Hale. For all of their sakes, hopefully the Sheriff will find out all on his own...

(Or, 5 times a Beacon County Sheriff's Office employee witnesses the unique relationship between Stiles and Derek but neglects to tell the Sheriff and 1 time he witnesses it for himself.)

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Going, Going, Gone by paradis (M | 3/3 | 12,296)

The Sheriff comes up to him after the services. "I don't believe he's dead," he tells Derek.

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Promises aren't Meant to be Broken by paradis (T | 1/1 | 12,463)

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

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powerful in-scent-ive by kellifer_fic (T | 1/1 | 14,533)

Stiles holds up a hand, because he really can't listen to the bites-are-all-right speech that Derek has given Scott dozens of times. "Dude, don't."

"Look-" Derek tries again, oddly persistent.

"Derek, man, my worst nightmare is not me getting bitten, it's him. It's always been him."

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Strangeness and Charm series by hoars (4 works | NR-M | 14,744)

The Gypsy AU

1. for the way this animal love, lurches monstrous up my chest (M | 1/1 | 2,481) “Strangeness follows the Romani, what is a little more?” Elder Travj asked. That was the night Derek’s pack began to follow the caravan; a night marked by fire and loss. 2. wanting to make you happy and warm and unafraid and free (M | 1/1 | 4,022) "Laura called you a thief." Derek breathes into his neck. "And what did the she-wolf call you?" Stiles asks. "She called me a gypsy." And Derek does not sound wronged. He sounds insecure and of longing. "Then perhaps she finally speaks truths." Stiles says. "I am a thief and you like me, a Roma." 3. these places will have to substitute (NR | 1/1 | 2,229) (Interlude) “The chovihano is harmless to Derek.” Mother says. “I assure you, Miss Laura, Stiles would not hurt Derek.” The shaman says. “Stiles cares greatly for your brother.” But still. Something in her is screaming, howling and growling. 4. for the grunts and the screams we extract from each other (NR | 1/1 | 6,012) It doesn't make sense for the lunatic to be eating people but biting others. All evidence but for the mass grave indicated the lunatic had been recruiting, building a pack, not finding a meat source. Werewolves, even lunatics, weren't prone to cannibalism. “It's a true sign of madness.” Derek says, as if repeating something he’s heard a dozen times since he was a child. "The mark of the beast."

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You Make Me See How Much I Have by paradis (T | 1/1 | 16,943)

“You’re lucky you got here now,” he says, “Ten minutes – maybe you could get your –” there’s a crash before he can say get your daughter, and Stiles resists the urge to either slap his hand against his face, or slap Derek, because no one ever understands how difficult it is to have a kid in the store by themselves unless they’re also parents.

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Past Imperfect, Future Conditional series by elisera (3 works | T-E | 17,311)

1. Necessitate by (E | 1/1 | 3,888) Derek’s juggling the kids -- Noah hanging off his back, Ella standing on his foot while holding onto his jeans with a death grip and both of them still talking up a storm about their day at kindergarten -- and two bags of groceries in his arms that evening when the sight of Stiles standing in the backyard makes him weak in the knees. Stiles is in profile, ranting on his phone to Scott about the contract negotiations for the new construction on the Peterson property, and there’s a flush on his face, his ears pink and his mouth red from where he keeps biting it but the worst thing, the absolute worst thing is the round curve of his stomach, straining against the tank top he liberated earlier in the week from Derek when the heat wave hit and none of his own fit him anymore. It’s going to be stretched to hell by the time the kid is born but right now Derek can’t find it in himself to care. 2. The Weapon You Choose (E | 1/1 | 12,029) When Noah trudges down the backstairs that morning, he finds Dad sitting on a step halfway down and chewing on his knuckles, watching Papa making coffee like it’s a special on the discovery channel and not an almost daily ritual. Anyway, Noah needs the car on Friday; he might as well make nice so he sits down next to Dad, jostling his shoulder with his own in greeting. Dad raises an eyebrow, mirth in his eyes and his mouth curving around the knuckle stuck in it. Papa grunts just then, still trying and failing to open the tin with the ground coffee in it and Dad head snaps around, once again riveted. Noah rolls his eyes hard but he guesses people who’ve been together since the dawn of time need to get their fun wherever they can find it. 3. Pancake Wolves (T | 1/1 | 1,394) Stiles is on his third cup of coffee when Derek tromps down the stairs. He looks at him over his shoulder, taking in his barely open eyes and the pillow creases on his face, unable to keep from smiling at him. Derek yawns widely and just keeps going until he can wrap his arms tightly around Stiles’ waist and lean against his back, letting Stiles take his weight.

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Jurisdiction series by elisera (3 works | T-E | 19,897)

1. Jurisdiction (M | 1/1 | 7,025) John is a pretty level-headed guy. He wasn’t always, back during his own Sturm und Drang period, but he married a firecracker of a woman and got a kid with an affinity for trouble like he got payed for ending up in it, so someone had to level out or they would’ve ended up living in a treehouse or Lapland doing god knows what. Anyway, getting a hold of his temper is one of John’s better life achievements. It makes him a good sheriff and it kept him from blowing his lid too badly those last two years when Stiles started acting out in a way that John had never seen before. But the temper is still there. He’s reminded of it when he comes home on a random Saturday in March after spilling his milkshake all over his uniform shirt only to notice he didn’t have a spare in the station and finds Stiles bend over the kitchen sink with hunched shoulders. 2. Life With Werewolves: A Beginner's Class (T | 1/1 | 2,836) Five times Sheriff Stilinski was really through with werewolves and one time he wasn’t. 3. Life With Humans: The Stilinski Edition (E | 1/1 | 10,036) “You still smell weird,” Derek says, pressing his nose against Stiles’ armpit, trying to figure out what about Stiles’ scent still bothers him so much. Stiles slaps his head and Derek nips the soft skin of his inner bicep in retaliation. “I,” Stiles says, still panting and shivering from his orgasm, “do not smell weird, you weirdo. Maybe you should take your nose in for a checkup, it’s clearly out of whack.”

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red series by hoars (3 works | NR-E | 32,156)

1. Festival of Red (E | 1/1 | 11,592) “See? I need my daisy crown or I won’t get Chased.” Stiles frowned. “And then I’ll have to do it again next year. I really don’t want to do it twice.” The good and the bad of getting Caught this year included not having to do it again and the bad was he’d have a werewolf mate for the rest of his life. Stiles is seventeen. He has a lot of life to live. Unless his wolfy mate has no sense of humor or a temper. Those with no sense of humor and tempers tended to hate Stiles the most and wouldn’t that suck? Being tied to someone for the rest of his life who hates him. That actually sounds like his type of luck. “You’ll be fine.” Allison beams because she’s a sweet person and can obviously read Stiles like a picture book aimed at toddlers. 2. Navigating our Marriage (NR | 1/1 | 8,316) The squeal to the bride-hunting fic that involves moving, emancipation, a family feud, a baby shower, a list of reasons and a magic cat lady. 3. Families: Eternally Messy (NR | 1/1 | 12,248) The third installment to the bride hunting fic that now involves pregnancy then babies, adult looking responsibilities, epic fails and proof no one picks their family.

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[saintsenara]

On a slightly more serious note, this is an opinion that will have me eaten alive (ha!) in a blog followed by so many die-hard Snape fans... and I do also consider myself to be a die-hard Snape fan... But I do think that the whole "Lupin endangered students, Snape had no choice but to out him and his fate was justifed" kinda overplayed. The magic world is dangerous: we come across many wizards with who lost limbs to magical accidents, creatures, or duels, Luna's mum died performing experimental spells, everyone's favourite sport involves flinging boulders at people flying 20 meters above the ground. Sure, werewolves are another danger to add to the pile, but if there was no stigma, would it have been so unforgivable that in an extremely eventful and emotional night this guy just forgot to take his potion?

If werewolves were not shunned from society, it could have been just another magical accident. I know it's still a painful and irreversible condition, but people add a lot shame and guilt to Lupin's responsibility plate by perpetuating this idea that it was the most dangerous and despicable thing that could have happened, and being publicly outed was a suited punishment.

I just find it quite dishonest to act like Snape's attitude was not malicious, when he's always excelled at being the biggest bitch in the castle, and we love him for that?

Ok I'm out byeeeeee

i think several things are at play at once, tbh.

lupin forgetting to take the wolfsbane potion as a one-time slip-of-the mind which would - absolutely - be an accident, which could [and probably has!] happened to any of us who take medication regularly? relatable.

lupin forgetting to take the wolfsbane potion because he's too busy trying to murder his treacherous former friend in cold blood in front of three children...? well, sure, i'd do the same in his place, i fear.

but... i do think it's important to point out that snape's outing of lupin clearly isn't just connected to his failure to take his potion once, but to a run of behaviour by lupin which - on the basis of the information snape has in his possession - intentionally places students in danger throughout the school year - above all, lupin's failure to inform dumbledore that sirius is an animagus and that this is how he's entering hogwarts undetected.

i think this often gets forgotten, but lupin doesn't know that sirius is innocent until the same point in the story that harry does. while sirius wasn't coming to hogwarts to try and harm harry, lupin doesn't actually know this - he's not withholding information from dumbledore because he possesses the facts of sirius' innocence, he's withholding information from him because he's a coward.

this makes perfect sense from a characterisation angle - lupin being completely unable to speak ill of the friends who took him in and loved him unconditionally, even when he thinks that one of those friends annihilated two of the others is such a fundamental encapsulation of his personality - but it's unforgivable from a safeguarding one.

[and it would be grounds for a sacking in most jobs which involve working with children, let's be real, no matter the fact that lupin is accidentally vindicated.]

since the information that snape has at the end of prisoner of azkaban is that his suspicions that lupin was aiding and abetting a murderer in his quest to enter the school have been proven correct, and that - because lupin was so keen to help this murderer - he failed to take the potion which prevents him from biting someone... him backing lupin's instant dismissal doesn't seem that unreasonable...

because another thing i think it's worth pointing out is that snape clearly doesn't know that sirius is innocent until after lupin has resigned his post - indeed, you can read his behaviour towards sirius at the end of goblet of fire as evidence that he doesn't know until then [and i'm sure that he verified that pettigrew was the traitor very carefully with voldemort...].

and this is important.

because - yes - snape is petty. he clearly delights in the misfortune of others, and he's someone who tends to approach any conversation he ever has with anyone else through a win-lose lens - which means that he goes out of his way to humiliate other people so that he can "win" the interaction.

but - in the case of his involvement in lupin's dismissal - his pettiness is a red herring, which we're forced to recontextualise after the conclusion of the series...

lupin tells us that snape leaked that he's a werewolf because he's furious over losing his order of merlin.

but - just like when he tells us that snape hated james because he was jealous of his quidditch talent - lupin is wrong.

snape is furious - literally deranged with anger - at the end of prisoner of azkaban because he believes that the man who led voldemort to the potters' doorstep has escaped from justice, that lupin helped him to do so, and that dumbledore - despite admonishing lily for "putting her trust in the wrong person" [by which he means sirius! he doesn't know he's innocent before harry does either!] immediately after her death - has also decided to put his trust in the wrong person [harry's] nonsensical story, believe that sirius is innocent, and believe that lupin hasn't done anything wrong.

[we also get hints in canon that dumbledore's hiring of lupin without forcing him to disclose his condition might be... legally dodgy. the law is clearly unjust - and dumbledore is morally right to disregard it - but i think it's another thing worth bearing in mind when situating snape's decision to turn not only on lupin, but on dumbledore within context.]

snape's attitude is malicious - in that he lashes out at lupin because he's the only person he can realistically hurt in response - but it's not petty or him choosing to be a little bitch for fun. it's anguish.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

hey!

I love your blog, you are so talented at making the reactions realistic to each character! great job!

can I ask a reaction were they (students and professors) see the MC be bitten by a werewolf?

or they discovered that they are one?

the choice is yours!

A/N: thankies! I try my best! ❤️

HLC REACT TO MC BEING BITTEN BY A WEREWOLF

WARNING: some angst

Wrong place. Wrong time. That's how it happened. What was just thought to be an ordinary mongrel turned out to be a werewolf. MC laid on the ground in a pool of their own blood, grasping their wand arm. MC managed to kill the beast, but not before it got a nasty bite on them.

Even as new to the magical world as they were, they knew this was bad news. There was no cure to the werewolf disease and as soon as the light of the first full moon hit them, they would become a mindless feral beast. This would be their fate for every month for the rest of their life.

They can't tell anyone. They would never be trusted again. Everyone would abandon them. They would be expelled from school. They would never have a normal life.

They try to claim ill when the full moon would come around and disappear into the forest until the moon would wane again. Unfortunately, this pattern doesn't go unnoticed.

~~~

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: Werewolf is the last word he expected to come out of their mouth. That's why they've been avoiding him? They thought that something like them being a werewolf would make him not want to be their friend? Please, that's the most incredible thing anyone has ever told him!

OMINIS GAUNT: What He really cares about is if they're managing themselves responsibly. They could seriously hurt or kill people, they are not themselves when they're forced to transform. He'll take it upon himself to keep track of the moon cycle and constantly remind MC when the next full moon is.

ANNE SALLOW: Now they're both cursed forever. Misery loves company. At least the company is nice.

IMELDA REYES: She doesn't believe MC at first. That's got to be one of the most wild stories she's ever been told. But the monthly disappearances keep happening. She follows them one night on her broom and sees them transform. They never see her in the canopy of the trees. There's a twinge of fear in her eyes the next time they interact.

NATSAI ONAI: She's curious about the form of lycanthropy. Do they turn into a werewolf specifically or is that just a blanket term for lycanthropic creatures in this area of the world? Because where she's from, lycanthropy takes many shapes. She shows genuine interest in learning about MC's condition and helping them manage it. She'll stupefy them if they don't keep up with their moon chart.

GARRETH WEASLEY: That's a pretty heavy thing to admit to, but he can see the silver lining in this. MC is now a source of pretty rare potion ingredients. Don't look at him like that, of course it's the first thing he thinks of. Werewolf teeth and claws are hard to come by without...well, without a lot of unpleasantness.

LEANDER PREWETT: He reflexively jerks away when they admit it. He's heard horror stories of what werewolves do to people, if they bother to leave you alive. MC couldn't possibly be.... He needs time to process. He won't tell other people, but it's hard for him to look at them the same way.

AMIT THAKKAR: Please, he knows the moon cycle for the next 10 years by heart. While he may stand an extra foot or two away from them, he will still gladly be their friend. They're not dangerous as long as they're being smart. Everything will be all right.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He's uncharacteristically quiet for a long time after MC confesses. It's a lot to take in that someone you know is now considerably more dangerous and unpredictable during certain times of the month. He'll need some time to decide if he's willing to stick around.

POPPY SWEETING: Who's a good dog? Kidding. MC has nothing to worry about with her. She's fully accepting of them in their condition, it's not their fault. And for what it's worth, beasts don't really care either. Stick with them and MC won't have to explain wolf tracks constantly in their vicinity.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: Because of the amount of time he has spent with MC, he's the first Professor to notice the change in their behavior. It didn't take long for him to realize they would mysteriously disappear during the full moon. Oh, MC, he's so sorry. This wasn't the end of the world, but this was going to make their life difficult. He'll do what he can for them, they still have him after Hogwarts. He won't let them leave school without a plan.

He informs the other professors individually. He wanted them to be in the know so they can continue to manage MC's education without letting the headmaster catch wind of MC's condition.

MATILDA WEASLEY: This news weighs heavy on her. If any parent caught wind of MC's condition, this would be a nightmare for staff to deal with. They were allowing a werewolf within the walls of a school. But this was MC. They were managing it, everyone else that was important knew about it. They were managing it too. They were doing everything in their power to keep accidents from happening. But what if something does happen?

CHIYO KOGAWA: She and Hecat keep close tabs on MC when the full moon draws near. The new transformations wouldn't happen until the moon was at its peak, but they weren't taking any chances.

AESOP SHARP: He met werewolves during his time as an auror. MC is in for a hard life. The vast majority of wizards do not look upon werewolves kindly. In his spare time, what little he had, he researched treatments for lycanthropy. There had been no successful cures or treatments yet invented, but he could take it crack at it.

ABRAHAM RONEN: Next to Professor Fig, he's the professor MC goes to when they need to talk. This condition that they will have to deal with for the rest of their lives has to be weighing heavily on their mind. Mc can tell him how they're feeling. They will get no judgment from him, only comfort.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She's up for MC experimenting with some new plants she has. One in particular called Wolfsbane. There's a superstition that it repels werewolves. Is it true?

MUDIWA ONAI: She does a palm reading for MC and explains in great detail that their condition does not define them as a person. They are MC. They are a person with feelings and emotions and desires and dreams. Not a monster.

BAI HOWIN: She knows someone. She'll give MC a name and tell them to write to that person. They are the liaison to a small werewolf community, perhaps being in touch with others who have dealt with this will help MC cope. Don't worry, no one else needs to know about this.

DINAH HECAT: She's on watch with Kogawa. She knows MC isn't dangerous until the moon is actually out and at its peak, but it's Professor weasley's orders that they keep visual on MC until they are in the safe zone the nights of the full moon.

CUTHBERT BINNS: As long as MC is well behaved in class and keeps up with their studies, he could not care less what is in their blood.

SATYAVATI SHAH: It crosses her mind to inform the headmaster. Even if they're not intentionally dangerous, they are still potentially dangerous. The safety of her students comes first. A direct order from Professor Weasley keeps her from saying anything and she helps MC keep track of the moon cycle.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: He never notices what individual students are up to. It's a good thing too, because MC would be immediately expelled if he did. He won't have a dangerous half-breed in his school.