#and this is all in the first run of alpha flight its all within the first 25 issues of him appearing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

free-pool-trash · 4 years

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folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)

Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭

Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕

Word count: 5.5k 🙈

Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing

Masterlist

Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.

There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.

Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.

Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.

You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.

And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.

While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.

Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.

They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.

Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.

Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.

The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.

“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.

Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.

So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”

Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.

A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.

Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”

Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.

It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”

“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.

Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.

“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.

The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.

Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.

And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.

Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.

Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.

Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.

“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”

“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.

Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.

“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.

At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.

His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.

“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.

“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.

“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.

“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”

The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.

With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”

As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.

When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.

“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”

Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.

His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.

“It would be us wouldn’t it.”

After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.

Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.

“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.

Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.

“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”

You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.

Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.

“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.

Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”

He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“

Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.

“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.

Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.

You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.

A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.

“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.

“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.

He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”

“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.

Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”

“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.

“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.

“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.

“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.

Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.

Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.

With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”

You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.

You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.

“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”

“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.

It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.

“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.

You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.

“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.

“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”

“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.

“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”

“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”

You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”

Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.

“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.

Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.

You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.

When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.

Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.

Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.

Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”

Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”

“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”

Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”

Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.

Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.

Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.

He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.

Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.

“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.

“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.

You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”

“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“

“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.

His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.

Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.

Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.

“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.

Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”

After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.

You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.

A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.

The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.

“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.

“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.

Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #folklore i.l #derek hale x reader

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sparkandwolf · 4 years

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In My Body (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale & Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Rating: General Summary: “Magnus! You’re okay…” Another voice chimed from the doorway, clearly out of breath. Stiles froze when he saw Derek and his heart clenched when he walked straight for him and pressed their lips together. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pushed Derek away with a blast of magic, wondering for a second time that day how in the hell Derek knew Magnus.

“Not Magnus, oh god, I am-- Derek, why are you trying to kiss Magnus?” Stiles asked because he wasn’t about to let that slide without an explanation.

“Because I’m not Derek, I’m Alec,” he said as took a step backward, embarrassment reddening his face as he glanced around the room.

“If you’re Alec, that means--” Stiles turned to Alec’s body and raised an eyebrow in question.

With a sigh, he said, “I’m Derek and I am very confused.”

A gift to one of the greatest people I have had the pleasure of meeting through fandom, @notquiteascrazy!

Stiles wasn’t really sure how it happened; one second he was relaying his daily adventures to Lydia on the phone and the next he was thrown into a swirling hole of magic. When he stumbled out of it, he landed on a hard wooden floor and stars flooded his vision. The pain in his head wasn’t the worst he ever had, but the confusion at being caught in another supernatural booby trap had Stiles’ mind reeling. He had moved to New York for college to avoid getting kidnapped again and Stiles was starting to think his luck was seriously running out.

“Derek didn’t tell me he was so adorable,” a smooth voice chimed from a few feet away. At the mention of Derek’s name in a seemingly friendly way, Stiles was relieved but still utterly confused.

“Well, he wouldn’t because he doesn’t think so,” Stiles retorted, ignoring the laughter that followed. He shook his head to rid the cloudiness in his vision when a beautiful, vibrant man came into view. “How do you know Derek?” Stiles asked because he wasn’t exactly the kind of person he had ever seen Derek hang out with. First off, this man had a smile on his face that could have anyone on their knees in three seconds flat, and secondly, Derek went for the gruff type when he chose his friends if his pack was any indication.

“The Hale pack and I go way back, Mr. Stilinski, farther than Derek and his current pups,” the man said with a noncommittal wave of his hand. “But that’s not important. I got a rather strange phone call from the alpha telling me that one of his human packmates was in immediate danger and that he was cashing in the favor I owed him. Now,” the man said, snapping his fingers before a drink appeared in his hand, “my favors are of insurmountable worth so it has me wondering why you are so important.”

Stiles shook his head as he stood and said, “You and me both, buddy. I’m not in any danger, why would Derek--” Before he could finish his thought, the front door flew open and a man who, at first glance, Stiles thought was Derek, came bursting through the door.

“Magnus! Backup?” The drink that was in the man’s - Magnus’ - hand disappeared and a flurry of blue light replaced it. Stiles was momentarily awestruck by how stunning the glow was until the man who looked like Derek shoved him in the chest and knocked an arrow into place.

“What is it?” Magnus asked as his magic seemed to hiss in the space around him, swirling from blue to red as a sharp howl echoed down the hallway.

“Demon, we think. He’s after something, but we can’t figure out what. He’s never tried to kill us before, just fight us and run,” the man said and Magnus turned to glare at Stiles. He held up his hands in defense and glanced around the apartment to try and find something to use as a weapon.

“What have you brought to us, Stiles?” Magnus said and the other man shot him a questioning glance. “Alexander, meet Stiles, a member of an old friend’s pack. Stiles, this is my husband, Alec,” he introduced quickly and Stiles’ wave was only met with a glare from Alec.

“Is he what the thing wants?” Alec asked and when Magnus nodded, he added, “Why?” Stiles didn’t have time to be offended when the demon finally made itself known. It barely fit through the doorway, the spikes on its spine slicing into the wood to barge into the apartment. Alec fired one arrow and then another, Magnus’ magic enveloping them with a glowing red light. When the arrows sank into the demon, the howl was almost too much for Stiles’ ears to bear.

“Before you ask, I don’t know why either!” Stiles yelled as he jumped behind the couch to avoid a flying spike that flung from the demon’s palm. He grabbed at the side table, breaking off the leg in case he needed it, ignoring Magnus’ unreasonable complaints.

“What do you think you’re gonna do with that?” Alec asked as he crouched behind the couch, readying another arrow for flight.

Stiles shrugged and responded, “Hopefully not die.” Alec gave him a considering glance before taking a deep breath and standing surely. He took careful aim and fired his arrow and the demon’s howl of pain shook the apartment floor. Stiles peeked over the edge of the couch in time for an orange mist to cloud his eyes again. The demon collapsed in defeat but as Stiles reached for Alec, the three of them collapsed and Stiles’ sight went dark.

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When Stiles awoke, he was on the other side of the apartment with the worst headache he could ever remember having. Like a flash, the memories of the demon attack and the strangely beautiful pair of husbands surged through his mind and panic overwhelmed him. He felt like he was overheating and scrubbed at his face to wipe the sweat that was dripping down his cheek to find fingertips covered in makeup and facial hair he didn’t recognize. He glanced down at his hands and they were accessorized with rings of all sorts.

“As if this day couldn’t have been strange enough,” Stiles said only the voice didn’t belong to him. In fact, it belonged to Magnus. He turned quickly to see Alec groaning beside him, opening and closing his eyes slowly. When he glanced past, he saw his own form inspecting his hands.

“What the hell is happening?” Stiles yelled, “One of you had better start talking because I am about to--” He felt something rise within him and took a deep breath to calm himself down, thinking it was just another panic attack he had almost grown out of.

“It seems as though we’ve been switched,” his voice soothed. When Stiles glared at himself, the voice explained, “It’s Magnus. I’m in your body and you’re in mine.” Stiles didn’t know how to respond but it didn’t matter because Alec was shooting up from his sitting position, staring down at his hands.

“Magnus? Stiles? What the hell is--”

“Happening?” Magnus guessed, walking over to Alec and cupping his chin in his hand to inspect for injury. “It seems we have a bit of a bodysnatchers situation on our hand, my darling, but don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” Magnus said, leaning in to kiss Alec comfortingly. Before their lips could meet, Alec’s eyes widened and he backed away quickly with his hands raised.

“Stiles, I--”

“Not Stiles, me Stiles,” he said with a small wave in Alec’s direction.

“Then you’re--”

“Your husband, Alexander. I’m hurt that you don’t recognize the way I speak or the way I hold your face,” Magnus said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, you don’t understand,” Alec said, holding out his hands as Magnus took a step closer, “I’m not--”

“Magnus! You’re okay…” Another voice chimed from the doorway, clearly out of breath. Stiles froze when he saw Derek and his heart clenched when he walked straight for him and pressed their lips together. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pushed Derek away with a blast of magic, wondering for a second time that day how in the hell Derek knew Magnus.

“Not Magnus, oh god, I am-- Derek, why are you trying to kiss Magnus? ” Stiles asked because he wasn’t about to let that slide without an explanation.

“Because I’m not Derek, I’m Alec,” he said as took a step backward, embarrassment reddening his face as he glanced around the room.

“If you’re Alec, that means--” Stiles turned to Alec’s body and raised an eyebrow in question.

With a sigh, he said, “I’m Derek and I am very confused.” Stiles let out a huff of laughter and went to run a hand through his hair, flinching when the cold metal on his fingers touched his scalp. “Why am I-- What hap-- Why am I looking at me?” Derek decided, his eyes falling to Alec which shouldn’t have been surprising because at that moment, Alec looked like him, and man, Stiles’ head was really starting to spin.

“Eyes over here, handsome,” Magnus called, waving his hand in a way that looked awkward coming from Stiles’ body. “It seems the little demon problem you were worried about decided to play a trick on us with its last breath.”

“A trick? What do you--” Derek’s eyes widened and Stiles thought it took him long enough to realize what was happening. “Are we all…?” He glanced over at Stiles who shrugged in response.

“You are Alec, Alec is you, I’m Stiles, and Magnus is me. Isn’t this just fun?” Stiles said with a faux grin on his lips. He might have been in New York to escape the supernatural but he was very much a fan of ignoring the problem until it went away and this was a problem he was ready and very willing to disregard.

“What the hell kind of demon does this?” Derek asked as he stood, a bit more wobbly on his feet than was usual for him. Stiles was at his side in a moment, sliding his arm around Derek’s waist to steady him. “And why does my entire body feel like I got hit with a truck?” He added with a wince.

“Because whatever gave the demon the ability to switch us hurts like hell to humans and shadowhunters, apparently,” Magnus said with a wince. Alec was quick to rush to his side, holding his face gently in his hands. For a moment, Stiles was frozen again. He watched as Derek’s - Alec’s - hands stroked over his - Magnus’ - body as if checking for injury and recalled the few times Derek had done that to him before. There was a gentleness to the touch that Stiles had wished for on many occasions and when Alec leaned in to kiss Magnus, he cleared his throat quickly.

“Sucks to not have your magical healing abilities, doesn’t it, fellas?” Stiles joked if only to ease the tension he suddenly felt in his shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t know. Being cared for by a big strong alpha werewolf doesn’t sound so bad,” Magnus said teasingly. Stiles didn’t like the flirtatious inference of the words as they rolled off Magnus’ lips even with the wedding ring weighing heavy on his finger.

“To answer your other question, we’ve never seen it before. The only demon that we know of that has the ability to bodyswap is the magraon demon. Izzy and Underhill are hitting the books now to figure out if that’s what we killed,” Alec chimed in. Derek nodded consideringly and leaned into Stiles’ touch.

“And who am I? Who is… me?” Derek asked, his eyes moving from Alec to Magnus unsure who to look at and seemingly just as uncomfortable seeing his body so close to Stiles’ body as Stiles had been.

“You, my dear, are my dashingly handsome husband, Alec Lightwood, Head of the New York Shadowhunter Institute, and the person who most likely saved your little human over there,” Magnus said with a vague gesture toward Magnus.

“Now that we’ve all been confusingly introduced, is there any way to fix this?” Derek spat and Stiles couldn’t contain the soft laugh that escaped his throat. Derek and Alec looked at him accusingly and Stiles only shrugged and laughed harder.

“I’m sorry, I just-- I don’t think I’d have ever been able to tell the two of you were switched. You’re uncannily similar with how you scowl at me, it’s--” At both of their unamused looks, Stiles licked his lips and glanced at Magnus. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said. Magnus glanced between the two of them and shrugged.

“I definitely have a type, don’t I?” Magnus said and both Alec and Derek gaped at him. “Relax, my darling, Derek was only ever a gorgeous piece of eye candy to call on when I needed a wolf’s expertise. You know I can’t control how handsome my supernatural contacts are,” Magnus eased with a grin and Alec rolled his eyes and kissed him quickly. Stiles felt like the breath was knocked out of him seeing his lips connect to Derek’s.

“What do we do?” Stiles asked, hoping the desperation in his voice wasn’t too obvious. Magnus glanced over at him with a look on his face that clearly meant he knew something was up with Stiles and raised his eyebrows.

“I will conjure us up some magical texts and cocktails and we can spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to fix this,” Magnus said and with a snap of his fingers, stacks of books flooded the apartment. “Oh, dear, this is rather excessive,” he said consideringly.

“How can you still do magic with your body over there?” Alec questioned, shock clear in his tone. Stiles had the same question, but seeing his body conjure objects from thin air struck him too dumb to ask.

“I’m honing in on Stiles’ magic, but it doesn’t seem you use it much, huh?” Magnus said before glancing at Derek and adding, “And you told me he was human.”

“He is,” Derek corrected, his eyes darting to Stiles almost accusingly.

Stiles held up his hands in defense and squeaked, “I have no idea what the hell is going on.” Magnus hummed and took a few steps until he was in front of Stiles, holding out his hand. Stiles glanced down at it like it was a predator enticing him into being its next meal and Magnus laughed.

“I’m not gonna bite, Stiles, I just wanna try something,” Magnus said, curling his fingers at Stiles to urge him to grab on. Stiles did as he was asked and the moment their hands connected, he felt fire sizzle in his veins.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes widening. Derek gasped beside him and Alec smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked Derek in a panic, pulling his hand away from Magnus’ as quickly as he possibly could.

“Your eyes. They were--”

“That of a precious little feline, so I’ve been told. Right, darling?” Magnus interrupted before glancing back at Alec for reassurance.

“Absolutely,” Alec agreed steadily, winking at his husband. They were sickeningly sweet and Stiles was increasingly uncomfortable with having Magnus in his body with Alec around.

“I wanna see!” Stiles yelled, searching the apartment for a mirror. When he found one, he bounded over, his hand instinctively covering his mouth in surprise. “This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me,” Stiles decided as he turned back around.

“We share a similar magic, Stiles. I was born with mine but from what I can sense, yours was a gift of sorts,” Magnus said softly, turning back toward Derek. “You truly didn’t know?” He asked hesitantly as if worried for Derek. Stiles was briefly warmed at how much Magnus seemed to care for his alpha.

“We didn’t, no idea,” Derek said quickly, “I’ve suspected for a little while that he wasn’t exactly human, but--”

Before Stiles could stop himself, he shouted, “You what?!” Derek winced at the sound and peered guiltily at Stiles. “You’ve suspected? You’ve been spending way too much time around Deaton, Derek. Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles asked, stepping forward until they were almost toe to toe.

“You said you wanted out, Stiles. I wasn’t about to tell you to stay because I thought maybe you had some magical powers I couldn’t quite explain!” Derek shot back. Stiles went to argue but he realized that Derek had a point. Stiles would have left Beacon Hills whether he knew about the supposed magical ability or not and Derek would have known that. He always knew how Stiles’ mind worked better than anyone else in the pack.

“I didn’t mean to cause a lover’s quarrel…” Magnus muttered as he stepped back into Alec’s arms.

Both Stiles and Derek turned to Magnus and yelled in unison, “We’re not lovers!” Alec and Magnus shared a look that he couldn’t quite figure out before Magnus gestured to the array of books behind them.

“Either way. Stiles’ magic may have given us an answer to how we get back into our bodies and quite frankly, it hurts to see someone that isn’t me wearing my favorite studded jacket,” Magnus commented with clear distaste. Stiles shot him an offended glare before stomping over to the couch and grabbing one of the texts.

“I was promised some alcohol?” Stiles said and Magnus grinned back in response.

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

Even after a few hours had passed, Stiles still wasn’t used to being in Magnus’ body. He was overwhelmed by the power he felt soaring inside of him and annoyed by the heavy makeup on his eyes and the rings on his fingers. Magnus let him take off all but one, not liking how his wedding ring looked on the side table that he had taught Stiles how to fix with magic. He also wouldn’t let Stiles take off his face full of makeup, but it was pretty easy to deal with until his eyes started to blink more rapidly with fatigue.

The other thing Stiles wasn’t sure he would ever get used to was seeing his and Derek’s bodies so close. Even when they weren’t themselves, Magnus and Alec seemed to have a need to be connected; whether it was their fingers laced together or their thighs pressing against each other or even a reassuring kiss to the other’s shoulder or cheek. Stiles had to watch the way that Derek’s body leaned into his own, nuzzling into his neck while Stiles heard his own bright laughter filter through the air. Knowing the bodies didn’t currently belong to them made no difference.

He sensed Derek’s discomfort beside him and couldn’t help but notice the way that Derek’s eyes seemed to dart to their physical forms with an unreadable expression. They’d been doing research for hours and had made it through most of the books that Magnus had conjured using Stiles’ magic - which was another thing Stiles wouldn’t let himself focus on with everything else going on - and all of them seemed to feel the day catch up to them.

Magnus slammed a book closed and said, “Well, I think that’s enough for one night, don’t you?” Stiles nodded and yawned, stretching his arms above his head and relishing in the crack of his spine. “I’m afraid I only have one spare bedroom but I can show you both over there with no trouble,” Magnus added with a smirk on his face that Stiles really didn’t like.

“You want us to--?” Before Stiles could finish, Derek chimed in.

“I can sleep on the couch!” Disappointment rushed through Stiles, but it only made sense. There had been a handful of times that the two had to sleep in close proximity and unfortunately for Stiles, it was when they were either both kidnapped or pulled into a pack pile on the floor of Derek’s loft in Beacon Hills.

“Don’t be silly, Derek. That couch is a mess!” Magnus noted, gesturing to the aforementioned piece of furniture. It wasn’t a lie by any means; there were still a few spikes sticking out from the cushion, dripping black goo onto the cloth, and as it was, there was no way someone could sleep on it. Luckily, Stiles knew that magic was readily available to them.

“Can’t you wave your hands and magic them away?” Stiles asked his voice filled with pleas. Magnus shook his head and held up his hands, magic sparking from his fingertips like an engine sputtering to start.

“I’ve used your power to its breaking point, it seems, my dear,” Magnus said in mock sadness that Stiles caught onto immediately. He glanced over at Derek and saw a small amount of panic flash through his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Can’t you just… show me?” Stiles asked, holding up his own hands, trying to control the amount of power that surged to his fingertips. Magnus shrugged and grinned at Stiles before stepping behind him and trailing his fingers down Stiles’ arms until their hands rested together. It was oddly intimate and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from glancing between Derek and Alec nervously. He expected Alec to look annoyed at their closeness, but he continued smirking down at the book in front of him like it contained an inside joke no one else was privy to. Derek scowled and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood.

“You have a husband now, Magnus, and you’re still flirting with anything with a pulse?” Derek spat, but Magnus chuckled in response, clearly unphased by Derek’s words, and circled his fingers around Stiles’ wrist.

“Oh, my darling, is that jealousy I hear in those salty words?” Magnus teased and Derek rolled his eyes expertly in return.

“I don’t see why this is necessary. Can he do it or can’t he?” Derek asked sternly.

Magnus shrugged his shoulders and leaned in close to Stiles’ ear to whisper, “What do you think, Little Red? Think really hard about what you want to do on that couch and let the magic guide you.”

Stiles did exactly that. He thought about it being cleaned up and fluffed to the perfect comfort level and imagined an array of soft sheets and blankets covering it for a good night’s rest. He imagined himself peacefully sleeping on the makeshift bed he had conjured for himself and felt the magic bubbling inside of him. He made the mistake of glancing over at Derek to see if he approved and suddenly, his mind went haywire.

As if a grenade went off in his mind, new images appeared. Derek was on top of him, kissing him within an inch of his life, his fingers grabbing onto the sheets Stiles had dreamed up a few seconds earlier. He could hear Derek’s groans and feel their skin sliding together as they touched where they had never felt each other before.

And when Stiles opened his eyes, the couch was burnt to a crisp.

Magnus’ laughter filled the air before he said, “What has my couch ever done to you?” Stiles pulled away from him and glared, but it didn’t seem to phase Magnus. As if he had planned for this to happen, Magnus said delightedly, “I promise the bed in the guest room is big enough for the both of you. Come along now!” He sauntered down the hallway with Alec close behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone with the charred couch in front of them.

“I’m sorry, I really tried--” Stiles began, but Derek held up a hand.

“It’s okay. We can stand to share a bed for one night, right? We’ve been pack for half a decade now,” Derek said reassuringly, resting a hand on Stiles’ arm as an attempt to ease his panic. The words were less than comforting because Stiles didn’t need a reminder that he had been practically pining for Derek for over 5 years; he was well aware of that fact, especially with the day’s events as a constant reminder.

“I’m usually a pretty good bed partner, but who knows what Magnus’ body does in its sleep,” Stiles joked, running a hand through his hair nervously. Derek laughed and shook his head, gesturing down the hallway for Stiles to follow the other men.

“At least our bodies are used to sleeping together,” Derek added but that fact did nothing to ease the rapid beat of Stiles’ heart. When they reached the end of the hallway, Stiles felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment as he saw Alec press a gentle kiss to Magnus’ forehead before their lips moved slowly together. Stiles felt his chest ache with longing and his stomach bubble with want at the love in their eyes when they pulled away.

Alec saw them first and backed away, biting down on his lip before he said, “Magnus made up the bed for you. There’s-- We left some of our clothes out so we know they’ll fit you.” Stiles smiled at him and nodded in thanks while Derek sent a gruff okay to them as he walked into the room to grab the clothes before making his way to the bathroom.

“Thank you, guys,” Stiles said before the two men could walk away hand in hand. “I don’t really know what happened today or what is going to happen tomorrow, but you apparently saved my life and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make sure you knew I was grateful,” Stiles said truthfully, smiling at Alec and Magnus. Magnus took a step forward and took Stiles’ hands in his, squeezing tightly as his eyes filled with sympathy.

“I cared for Derek’s family and I begrudgingly care for Derek,” Magnus began as a huff of laughter left Stiles’ lips. “I was close with Talia before she passed and I see so much of her strength and resilience in her son, but I also see her distrust and hesitation in him. Talia found that person who pushed her outside of her comfort zone and I have witnessed that in you today, Stiles.” Magnus pulled Stiles into a tight hug and whispered, “Hale’s care deeply about so few - much like my husband over there - but keep being who you are. I can tell Derek is close to letting you in.”

Stiles nodded but stayed silent as the two men walked away. Alec wrapped an arm around Magnus’ waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before they disappeared into their own room for a good night’s sleep. Stiles hoped he would be able to do the same. He heard the bathroom door click open and shuffled into the bedroom, smiling at Derek who had changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“No shower?” Stiles asked, noting his hair was still dry. Derek blushed and shook his head.

“It felt incredibly weird to even get undressed let alone clean a body that isn’t mine,” he said and Stiles’ eyes widened. He hadn’t considered that but the warm shower he had been looking forward to was quickly becoming less and less appealing. He reached for the clothes Magnus had left for him and rolled his eyes when he saw the yoga pants and tank top.

“Magnus and I have very different tastes, but I guess it's his body, his rules,” Stiles noted with a dry chuckle before moving to the bathroom. After he had shut the door, he stared at Magnus’ face in the mirror and took a deep, calming breath. Alright, Stiles, you’ve gotta get it together. This isn’t going to last forever and then you and Derek can go back to your own personal bubbles, Stiles thought to himself, giving the pep talk he needed as he got changed.

He glanced at the full-length mirror and was momentarily grateful for Magnus’ body. Even with magic to do whatever he wanted, he apparently still found the time to keep in shape. He flexed his arms and poked at the muscles before humming appreciatively. Stiles didn’t consider himself out of shape, but he had never truly grown out of his lanky teenage body. Sure, he could take care of himself in a fight, but it didn’t show as much in his arms as it did for Magnus.

With one more readying breath, Stiles opened the door and his heart stopped when he saw Derek under the covers on the bed they were expected to share. It was so domestic in a way that Stiles would never admit to dreaming about and he was truly pissed they weren’t in their own bodies. He shuffled over to the bed and tentatively slid under the sheets as close to the edge of the bed as possible. Derek chuckled beside him and Stiles glared over at him in response.

“What?” Stiles asked as he reached for the lamp beside him to turn off the soft glow that seemed to make his head ache.

“You’re gonna fall off the bed if you stay that far away from me,” Derek said with a raise of his eyebrow. Stiles rolled his eyes and moved an almost microscopic inch closer, staring up at the ceiling as the room went completely dark. He felt Derek mimic his position, both of them on their backs and looking up at nothing, and closed his eyes to try and calm himself.

“This doesn’t have to be awkward, right?” Stiles asked, but before Derek could answer his rhetorical question, he continued. “We just watched our bodies cuddle and kiss for like the entire night so we can sleep together without any qualms,” Stiles muttered, turning his head to glance at Derek. He could barely see the outline of his face, but it was all too noticeable to Stiles that it was Derek who was next to him.

After a few moments of silence, Derek admitted, “This isn’t exactly how I planned to come visit you.” Stiles gaped at him before turning on his side to face Derek.

“You planned to visit me?” He asked softly. He knew that Scott and Isaac had planned a trip and that Lydia was petitioning Jackson to make their summer vacation in New York, but there was no part of him that expected Derek to go that far out of his way.

“Of course I did. It’s hard for an alpha to be far from his-- pack,” Derek responded. Stiles was stuck on the pause, though. He racked his brain to figure out what Derek could have considered saying, but he came up empty. Instead, Stiles considered the words Derek did say.

“Why didn’t you tell me that my leaving would be tough on you? I wouldn’t have--”

“You needed this,” Derek interrupted before Stiles could say anything else. “You’ve been through so much and you had a chance to figure out if being in my pack, being in Beacon Hills even, was how you wanted your future to look,” Derek added. Stiles knew he was right. As much as he wanted to say that he wouldn’t have left if he knew it would hurt Derek, he realized the minute he stepped foot in New York that leaving was exactly what he needed.

What Derek didn’t know was that it solidified Stiles’ place in the pack and his future in Beacon Hills.

“I’ve missed you,” Stiles admitted because he wasn’t sure he could hold it in any longer. Derek let out a breath, turning so he could face Stiles, and even in the darkness, Stiles saw the small smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, “I’ve missed you, too.”

“And I’m glad you’re here,” Stiles added quickly, “even though you’re not really you right now and I’m not really me. I’m just-- happy to have you here. I guess, if I had to be thrown into another supernatural crisis, I’m glad it’s with you.” Stiles felt a blush creep up his neck and tried to shake it away even if Derek couldn’t really see it. But Derek reached out and cupped Stiles’ cheek in his hand and Stiles was sure he could feel the heat taking over his face.

“When we’re back in our own bodies, there’s something I want to try,” Derek whispered and Stiles nodded slowly in response, his eyes closing as Derek’s thumb stroked across his cheekbone. “I think we both need to sleep, okay?” Derek asked, but Stiles already felt the heaviness of fatigue clouding his mind.

“Yeah,” he muttered, taking a deep breath in before mumbling, “‘Night, Der’k. Love you.”

Stiles thought he heard a whispered, “me too,” before sleep overtook him.

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Stiles woke up slowly, his body aching in ways it hadn’t since he’d gotten to New York. He stretched his arms above him and let out a deep breath as his head fell to look at the person beside him.

“Derek, wake up. We’ve got to get going on--” Stiles froze, his eyes widening comically, “--research?”

“Stiles?” Derek asked and it sounded like Derek. The man beside him looked like Derek and when he glanced down, he saw Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist - Stiles’ waist. He untangled Derek’s arms and shot up out of the bed, surging toward the vanity and squealing with delight when he saw his own face staring back at him.

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles said as he glanced back over to the bed. Derek had pulled himself to sitting and was glancing down at his hands in awe, clear relief flooding his features. “We’re us again!” Stiles cheered. “You’re you and I’m me and we’re us again,” Stiles repeated as he felt his body relax for the first time in hours.

“We are,” Derek said as he leaned back against the headboard. He stared at Stiles with a gaze that Stiles couldn’t quite place, but then sleep-clouded memories flashed through his mind. “Caught on yet?” Derek asked, a slightly teasing tone in his voice that had Stiles blushing all over again. He made his way back to the bed and sat cross-legged next to Derek, playing with his fingers that were thankfully void of jewelry again.

Stiles nodded and said quickly, “I was half asleep.” It was a lame excuse considering he was well aware of what he had admitted to Derek the night prior and it was the absolute truth if he was honest with himself. He had known he was in love with Derek since before he left Beacon Hills but to admit it out loud - especially to Derek - was something he had never planned on doing.

“So was I,” Derek agreed. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he added, “But I meant it. And I do want to try something.” Stiles leaned forward as Derek pushed himself off of the headboard and as if their minds had the same train of thought, their lips connected softly. Stiles could only describe the kiss as tentative, unsure, and possibly the most memorable moment he had ever experienced. Derek’s hand traveled up his arm to cup his cheek as it had the night before and it felt so much better on Stiles’ skin. He leaned into the touch and reached out to rest his hands on Derek’s bare chest, feeling the way his heart beat steadily in his chest, unfaltering unlike Stiles’ that stuttered out of control.

Derek leaned closer and pushed Stiles until he was lying back on the bed, Derek’s body morphing to every curve of his like they were meant to fit together. Analogies of fireworks and puzzle pieces and all of that romantic crap Stiles had never been a fan of burst through his mind as Derek kissed him until they were both breathless. When Derek pulled away, it was only because a throat cleared in the direction of the doorway.

“Well, now that we’ve got that settled, would you two like to join us for breakfast?” Magnus asked as if he hadn’t interrupted the most perfect kiss Stiles had ever had. Derek rested his forehead in the crook of Stiles’ neck with a laugh and Stiles sent a deadly glare in Magnus’ direction. He laughed and snapped his fingers and like magic - Stiles had so many questions - their clean and slightly warm clothes appeared next to them in the bed. “Come along now, boys. You can’t stay in bed forever, especially when that bed in mine,” Magnus said with a wink before floating away.

“We should--” Derek began as he rolled off of Stiles. Before he could get too far, Stiles gripped onto his hand and when Derek turned to see what he wanted, Stiles kissed him one more time. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the feeling of Derek’s lips on his, but there was a small part of him that hoped he could just kiss Derek forever and never stop.

“I was always going to come back to Beacon Hills,” Stiles said to make sure Derek didn’t have any questions. “I am part of your pack whether you want me to be or not,” he added with a small smile. Derek grinned back at him and, to Stiles’ surprise, wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist to pull him into a tight hug. It was an awkward angle and Stiles was sure Derek’s back must have hurt from the way it twisted, but it felt too amazing to have Derek’s arms around him so intimately so he waited for Derek to pull away.

“I want you in Beacon Hills and I want you in my pack, but if that means letting you take some time in New York, then I’ll make as many trips as I need to,” Derek said and it sounded like a promise that Stiles knew he wouldn’t break.

They got up and dressed together, sneaking small kisses and touches when they could before making their way out of the bedroom. Magnus and Alec were sitting on the balcony at a table filled with an array of breakfast foods that had Stiles’ mouth watering and when Magnus saw them, he beamed delightfully.

“Alpha, Little Red, nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Magnus teased with another sly wink as he sipped on a cup of what smelled like very strong coffee. Stiles laughed at the names but slid into the seat beside Magnus happily as Derek walked up to Alec with an outstretched hand.

“Since we didn’t really get to ‘meet’ yesterday, I’m Derek. Thanks for, uh, loaning me your body?” Derek said carefully, shivering as he remembered what it felt like to not be himself. Alec let out a sharp laugh and reached for Derek’s hand, shaking it firmly.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Magnus has told me all about his history with your family and what a great leader you’ve turned out to be. He neglected to mention how attractive you were, though,” Alec added with a narrow-eyed glance at his husband. Magnus shrugged and held out a plate of pastries to Stiles who grabbed for a chocolate-filled croissant.

“I haven’t seen Derek since he was practically a teenager, Alexander. How was I supposed to know he’d grow up to look like that,” Magnus said, feigning complete innocence. Stiles snorted out a laugh as he ate his pastry, smiling when Derek sat down beside him and rested a hand on his thigh. It had already felt so normal to share space with Derek and he supposed he had Alec and Magnus to thank for that.

“So, do either of you know why we’re back to ourselves again?” Stiles asked because the question was lingering in the back of his mind.

“The only thing my sister could find on the magraon demon is that it can only be summoned by a true mate and it doesn’t usually happen on purpose,” Alec said with a shrug as he sipped his own coffee. Derek’s nails dug into the skin of Stiles’ thigh and he seemed to freeze in his seat.

“I’m sorry, a what?” Stiles asked, his eyes searching Derek’s face. Derek sent a panicked glance to Magnus who smirked in return.

“A true mate, dear,” Magnus repeated, but the phrase wasn’t what Stiles had questions about. Magnus linked his fingers together and crossed his legs before continuing, “True mates are quite rare nowadays. They usually only show themselves when an alpha has an unwanted but great distance between them and the person they desire the most.”

“Come again?” Stiles said breathlessly, his chest contracting with each word. There was something about the words that didn’t really register in Stiles’ brain. It might have been ‘mate’, could’ve been ‘unwanted but great distance’, maybe even ‘the person they desire the most’, but the only alpha Stiles could think of was Derek. He thought back to the pause he decided to brush off earlier and gaped at Derek, smacking his shoulder roughly.

“Ow,” Derek muttered, but nervousness was clear on his face.

“I’m your mate?! And you knew this? And you still let me leave? Without telling me?!” Stiles had so many questions but most of all, he wanted Derek to tell him the truth.

“Mates aren’t what humans think they are,” Derek began with a sigh, holding Stiles’ hands in his. “Wolves mate for life, yes, but the feelings have to be reciprocated. When you decided to leave, it was-- I don’t know-- a test?” Stiles raised his eyebrows hoping his stare would urge Derek to continue his weak explanation. “Time and distance can lessen a mate bond. I figured because you didn’t like me--”

“I did like you, you idiot!” Stiles yelled and Derek had the audacity to chuckle.

“I know that now!” Derek argued and before Stiles one of the other many questions that floated in his mind, Magnus chimed in.

“A true mate arises when neither time nor distance can break the connection between two souls. It’s quite romantic if you ask me,” he noted, but his eyes never left Alec’s. The love they had for each other would have been sickeningly cute to Stiles if he wasn’t so frustrated with Derek.

“So, we’re mates,” Stiles said.

“True mates,” Alec corrected and both Stiles and Derek glared at him. He shrugged and pouted as Magnus started clearing the table, shuffling over to place a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips.

“We’re true mates, then. What does that… mean?” Stiles asked, tilting his head at Derek.

“It means that, if you choose to accept the bond, you’re stuck with me forever,” Derek said carefully and Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“And if I don’t?” Stiles asked, but Derek hesitated a moment too long and Magnus sighed from where he had his arms wrapped around Alec’s neck, his chin resting on the top of his husband’s head.

“If you don’t, Derek will live out a life of loneliness, never truly feeling whole until the day that he meets his bitter end,” Magnus explained with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders.

Stiles inhaled sharply and whispered, “But no pressure, though.” Derek squeezed his hands and nodded, making sure his eyes connected with Stiles’.

“There is no pressure. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re my true mate and that for some reason, we’re fated to be together. Even if it takes you years, I’ll never stop waiting,” Derek said seriously and Stiles would have melted if it wasn’t for the chorus of ‘awe’s that left Magnus’ and Alec’s lips. Derek shot a fiery glare at them before turning back to Stiles with so much love in his eyes, Stiles wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Why don’t we start with a date? Have you ever walked through Central Park?” Stiles asked as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, “It’s like the preserve but fancier.” Derek laughed and shook his head, placing a delicate kiss on Stiles’ lips. “Well, we’ll start there,” Stiles decided, a large grin taking over his face.

“Mind if we crash? Alec here refuses to do the touristy venues with me but I’d bet he’d come along if you asked nicely,” Magnus teased as he pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek.

“The more the merrier, right, Derek?” Stiles asked and Derek, of course, begrudgingly agreed.

Stiles couldn’t stop the smile that widened on his face as his eyes met Derek’s once more. Derek’s grin was wide as he listened to Magnus tease Alec relentlessly while Alec’s face held barely a hint of annoyance. Looking at them had Stiles thinking about the future; more importantly, his future with Derek. He wondered if he and Derek would ever feel for each other what Magnus and Alec had so clearly, but then Derek smiled over at him and brought his hand to his lips, and Stiles thought maybe they already did.

#sterek #malec #crossover #stiles stilinski #derek hale #magnus bane #alec lightwood #my writing #ilysm lex 🥺#thanks for being so wonderful and amazing #and i hope you loved this <3 <3

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taramikealson · 4 years

Text

New Orleans Is Such A Sight (Pt. #1)

Rain poured down in large sheets, running down the gutters in small waves. The hood to a black rain-coat was tugged tighter to conceal the blonde curls from the harsh winds. Her feet take forceful steps towards a small side street where a lone, cracked open, metal gate stood. Delicate fingers push the gate open a few more inches to allow her access to the inside. At the halt of water that the structure provided her, she pulled the hood off of her head, looking around the space as she did.

The building was beautiful. The high arches, open court-yard, tan walls - bricks revealed where the drywall was missing. It was obvious that the house was old and worn in, but it was kept well enough that it became part of its character.

She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t even be on this continent but leave it to Damon to angering a pack of werewolves a few hours before a full moon.

Caroline hadn’t stayed in Mystic Falls. A year after her mother died, she left. She needed time to cope and space to figure out what she wanted out of life. At first, she was a little scared, staying state-side. Ultimately, after visiting a few states, she braved up and traveled to Italy, and then France. Then Switzerland, Austria, Spain, Germany, Greece, Ireland, and finally, London. Caroline spent quite a bit of time there, liking the culture and feel of normal British life. Although, after a while, she became bored with the gloominess of the British city and wanted to move onto more sun-filled places. One of those areas happened to be The Bahamas. The tropical paradise gave her a chance to relax and take in the abundance of sunlight. Caroline enjoyed it quite a bit, laying out on a towel, sunglasses resting on the arch of her nose as she watched the waves fold onto themselves.

She’d barely noticed it, but before she knew it, she’d spent a few months there. Caroline had only meant to stay there for a few weeks for a little breather from the large cities that she had been visiting but had come to enjoy the beach town there. At a local cafe, she had made a friend of the barista and had been subtly flirting with one of the daily’s that came in often, conveniently the same time she always went to grab her morning coffee on Saturdays. One day, she listened in on one of his orders; black coffee and the name he uttered to the barista was David. He was attractive in the average model-ish way. Dark brown hair, square jaw, calm eyes. David was nice and… normal. But, she knew she couldn’t get involved with him. But on the other hand, she couldn’t refuse to go on a date with him. There wasn’t a harm in that, right?

She was a half-hour into the date when she’d gotten a call from Stefan. Normally, she would have ignored it but it was the second time in the span of ten minutes and she knew Stefan doesn’t call more than once unless it’s important. So, she took the call, apologizing to David before walking out of the restaurant. Apparently, a gaggle of werewolves found themselves in Mystic Falls, something about Damon threatening the alpha right before a full moon. When Stefan had explained it, she was confused about why they were calling her, she was thousands of miles away. Then it clicked. Damon got bit and he needed a cure. And her friends knew that she had a personal connection to the cure. Caroline was so close to telling Damon that if he wanted the cure to a werewolf bite, he should have to go to Klaus’ door to beg for it himself, but she knew Klaus wouldn’t budge. In fact, it was probably even a low chance for her to convince him to hand it over to Damon, of all people.

So, what was she doing here? In New Orleans? Saving one of her friends.

A pair of rushed footsteps took her out of her musings. Raising her head, she caught sight of a boy. Light brown hair that was in a fringe up style haircut, slim build, maybe in his late teens. He was jogging down a pair of stairs in the courtyard, looking down at his phone as he did so. Sensing her presence, he looked up to see her, pausing for a second before realizing he was still in the rain. He took a few steps to be under the roof, his head tilting as his blue eyes inspected her.

A similar smirk graced his lips. “If you’re here for Rebekah, you just missed her. Took a flight out to Florence an hour ago.” Something about this boy was familiar. The facial structure, his eyes.

When Klaus had left for New Orleans all those years back, it had been for some sort of rising against him that turned out to be a pregnant girl. Caroline had gotten all the backstory from Tyler in a more biased version but basically, Klaus had slept with Hayley, getting her pregnant. Then, he’d apparently accepted it, having a kid. Klaus had a child. A kid.

He had a kid. This boy was Klaus’ son. The hair, the face, the eyes, the smirk.

Caroline faltered for a moment before catching herself and casting him a small smile. “Do you flirt with all of Rebekah’s friends?”

He laughs softly. “Only the really pretty ones.”

“Trenton.” A voice calls, an all too familiar voice.

Looking across the courtyard, she spots the owner of that voice. He looked the same as always, black jeans, long sleeve Henley, boots, blonde hair subtly pushed up. The Original’s eyes were first trained on his son but picked up on the other presence in the room, looking at her. They widened and dilated a hair before returning to normal, smirk growing on his face.

The boy sighs, shoulders drooping in a defeated manner. His jaw tightening before turning around to face his father.

“Sneaking out, again?” Klaus walks through the courtyard, ignoring the rain as it dampened his hair, before pausing once under shelter and out of the rain.

Trenton clears his throat, glancing towards Caroline then to his father. “I was, uh, I heard someone come in. Thought I’d greet our guest.” Caroline had to give it to him, the boy was quick on his feet and used similar tactics as his father did; charm and deviation.

It was extremely odd and very interesting to watch Klaus act a little fatherly, but not too surprising. He seemed to instinctively have the trait, unlike a lot of human men. He had the capacity to be mature, elegantly answer hard questions, entertain someone with stories of the past, and he knew what the image of a bad father was, surely making sure he was the exact opposite. Caroline could only imagine that his artistic abilities had come into play in the early years of Trenton’s life. But, just seeing both of them, seeing alike they were, was intriguing. If someone hadn’t known that the two weren’t supernatural, they’d most likely assume Klaus to be Trenton’s elder brother. Although, when Caroline saw them, she could clearly see a father with his son. May it be the wisdom and centuries of age in Klaus’ eyes or his mature style in clothing, he looked old enough possibly be Trenton’s father.

Klaus arches an eyebrow in disbelief. “I’d believe that if it weren’t for you prattling on to Rebekah about going to some high school, alcohol-filled gathering. One, in which, I profusely refuse you acceptance to be a part of.”

“You have to be kidding.” Trenton scoffs, saying in that basic teenage-y way. “I’m not some human that’s gonna get wasted easily. I’m a hybrid.”

The Original’s eyes turn serious, indicating that his decision was final. “You prate on about being a hybrid, but have yet to learn to control your bloodlust in densely crowded areas without me or my siblings by your side. I will not risk the local’s lives nor my standing on the city council for you to have one alcohol-fazed night.” Trenton rolls his eyes and Klaus takes a step forward, now intimidating the boy. “We have an assortment of liquor here. If you wish to drink, it will be within these walls. Am I understood?”

“Why can’t-,”

“Trenton, am I understood?” Klaus interrupts, voice low.

It takes a few seconds, but eventually, Trenton bites his tongue and gives his father a curt nod. The boys eyes were filled with aggravation and disappointment, she was sure Klaus saw it and understood that Trenton was hoping to have a little fun tonight. Klaus’ eyes softened as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky that I don’t plan to tell Elijah about your little scheme. You know how much he values your education. He’d be quite displeased to hear you were planning to stay out late on a school night.” A small smile graced Klaus’ lips as Trenton looked up to him. “Perhaps, even make you re-read that dreadful play, Hamlet.”

Klaus' words seem to make the boy puff out a laugh and inch a smile on his lips. “Thanks, for not telling Uncle ‘lijah.”

“Now, go on. I have a few words to exchange with our guest.”

Trenton nods and then glances to Caroline with an awkward smile. “Night.” He says before turning around and jogging through the rain-filled courtyard and up the stairs. Both Caroline and Klaus watch as he disappears into one of the second-story hallways.

After a moment, Klaus turns back to Caroline with a wide smirk.

“This is quite a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you for nearly another decade and a half.”

She sighs, feeling the weight of his words and the intenseness that his eyes bore. “I’m not here for that.” Her voice a little too soft, the subject weighing on her a little bit more than she thought it would. Klaus recognizes her now uncomfortable stance and raises his arm in the direction to a set of french doors, a fancy ‘M’ insignia on both.

“Then, perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere more private, rather than the courtyard?” He suggests and Caroline nods, thankful that he can still read on some of her subtle hints.

Klaus leads her through the double doors and invites her to make herself comfortable in the living area. As Klaus went to pour them both drinks, she looked around the magnificent room that she was in. Two expensive looking, brown leather, sofas sat across from each other, a fireplace on the back wall, fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and a mini-bar where Klaus was pouring their drinks.

Before she knew it, Klaus had placed the drinks down on the coffee table by her legs and was now behind her, reaching for her wet jacket. “May I?”

She nods and shrugs the jacket off. He takes it, walking over to one of the stools near the mini-bar, and hanging it on the back of it.

“I’m sorry for catching you at a bad time and so late at night.” She apologizes and he shakes his head.

“No need for apologies, love. I’d gladly make time for you.” He says, sitting down on the sofa, taking his drink in hand. Caroline also sits, not yet picking up her drink.

His eyes seem to analyze her and take in every detail that he could read off of her, trying to put together pieces in his head. His familiar mechanism and habits gave her a sense of reassurance that he hadn’t changed that much. She could clearly see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of situations as to why she was here, sitting on his couch in his New Orleans home on a very late Thursday night, a rainy one at that. Klaus must have caught her biting her lip because his intense gaze turned into concern. “You seem vexed, what’s happened?”

She swallows and looks away from him. “Damon ran into some werewolves.”

Klaus leans back as he huffs out a laugh. “And I imagine he is now sporting quite a nasty werewolf bite.” The Original’s amusement is not lost on Caroline, she knows how much he dislikes the eldest Salvatore brother, but that is why she was here. Now, he knows her reason for coming to New Orleans.

When his expression showed a hint of disappointment, she felt utterly horrible. It was her that told him that she didn’t want him in her life, it was her that said that he needed to leave and to never come back. Now, she’s intentionally inserting herself back into his life just to leave again. Caroline couldn’t imagine what he would be feeling. Anger, disappointment? “Thus, you need my blood.” He utters, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink.

“Yes.” She answers almost guiltily, her heart heavy.

There’s a moment of silence where neither of them speaks. Klaus seems to ponder his situation as he runs the side of his index finger along his bottom lip in thought. For a moment, Caroline thought that he was going to turn her down, tell her that he wasn’t going to help her and that she had to leave, but that changed when he sighed. Placing his glass of amber liquor down on the coffee table, he stood from his seat and fished his sleek black iPhone from his back pocket.

Klaus tapped a few times before pulling the cellphone to his ear and turning so his back was to her.

“Joshua, do come by the Compound, I have a proposition for you.” He states quickly and then ends the call after he received a reply to his request.

Pushing the iPhone into his back pocket, he turned back around without a glance to her and headed for the mini-bar. From Caroline’s perspective, he seemed a little tense but not angry, although she could be wrong. “Klaus…,” she begins as she gets up from her spot on the sofa and takes a few strides towards where he walks behind the counter, taking out a small vial and cork from underneath. Within an instant, he had already bit into his wrist, his blood now dripping down into the vial. His eyes wander up to hers when he comes out from behind the mini-bar.

Caroline blinks, confused., sure that he was set on not giving his blood to her. In fact, she’s even more surprised that he hadn’t even tried to negotiate with her to have something to gain for his blood. “You’re not asking for anything in return? Won’t even try to negotiate with me?” She asks, clearly perplexed by his actions.

Klaus sighs. “I’ve come to realize that by negotiating between lives and the opportunity to have time spent with you, it hadn’t shown my understanding of the weight of the negotiations that I was making. And I have also come to realize that,” he takes a pause and Caroline swallows as he pushes the cork into the filled vial. His eyes stayed trained onto her as he pushed the vial into his front pocket of his jeans before stepping closer to her, “I don’t wish to negotiate our time together. Years ago, when I had coerced you to spend your time with me, it had given you a small glimpse of the better parts of myself but, yet, I’d be a fool not to notice the burden you had felt to be there in those moments.”

Klaus takes a cautious step forward, analyzing if she would shy away from him or not. When she stayed still, he gently placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders, the heat from his palms radiating like beacons through her clothing and into her skin.

“Caroline, I don’t wish for you to feel burdened or obligated, by my actions, to spend time with me. It is your choice from now on, and it always will be.”

Her heart lurched in her ribcage and a flutter began in her stomach. His smooth voice, the eloquently and thoughtfully spoken words hitting her hard. Caroline’s thoughts swirled for a moment. Those two sentences that he had just spoken were not just talking about her feelings burdened to spend time with him, no. There was an undertone that she had caught. He didn’t want her to feel obligated to go to him, to be with him. In all honesty, it’s quite the sentiment. It shows her how much he has changed or, rather, bettered himself. This also tells her that he had been thinking a lot about their past and the wrong turns that he had taken to have an opportunity to win her over.

And then, she remembers that he’s still waiting for her response. His eyes had begun to shift, analyzing her’s carefully and taking in the information that they bore.

She gives him a reassuring smile. “I don’t feel obligated or burdened to spend time with you. Not anymore.”

His head tilts in that impossibly cute way that it does and smirks.

A pair of footsteps interrupt them, echoing through the hallway. Klaus lifts his head and looks over her shoulder towards the two french doors that had just opened. Caroline pulls away from Klaus’ warm hands and turns to see who had entered.

“Joshua.” He greets a dark haired vampire that physically looks like he’s in his mid-twenties.

“Well, I’m here. A little if-y about this whole ‘proposition’ thing though.”

Klaus smiles as if he knew something the other two vampires didn’t. “Yes, about that.” He begins, producing the vial of his blood from his jeans pocket. “Take this, carefully would you, to a small town in Virginia.”

Josh furrows his eyebrows in suspicion, looking at the vial of blood like it was poisonous. “Why would I do that for you? Can’t you have one of your lackeys do it for you?”

“Well, young Joshua,” Klaus begins as he takes a few steps closer towards the young vampire, “under these circumstances, it is precedent that this gets delivered in an expeditious manner, thus is the reason I present you with a proposal.”

Caroline watches as Klaus takes another step closer to Josh, almost invading his personal space as he speaks. “Do this for me, and I will not only make an effort to look past your misdoings towards my family, but as well, that of your friend, Davina Claire.”

Klaus’ proposition clearly had struck a chord with Joshua, making him swallow in nervousness. Caroline could see how the boy’s mind was churning in thought, considering certain possibilities. After a few, long, seconds, Josh plucks the vial from Klaus’ fingers. The Original doesn’t make an effort to contain his satisfied smirk as Joshua looks at him with a hint of caution. “Fine.” Josh utters.

“Brilliant. I’ll contact you with the necessary information.”

Joshua sighs and takes his leave.

Once the vampire is gone, Klaus turns to Caroline, swiping his tongue over his lips with a smirk screaming how satisfied he was in getting his way. His eyes did that little thing that they always did when he’d look at her; his eyes starting at her feet and then moving up her whole frame, taking in very detail as if it’s the last time he’d be able to do so. When his eyes connected with her’s, his blue orbs seemed to sparkle. A small shiver went down her spine at the intensity of his gaze.

“You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve just taken it back myself.”

His eyebrow arches. “Well, I’ve already set up for a plane to take off from Louis Armstrong International in a half hour. Your friends should have the cure in no later than four hours.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, knowing there was something he was not telling her. Klaus looks away from her almost bashfully and then returns his gaze towards her. “I, as well, was hoping you’d like to take one of our rooms.”

She’s a little confused at first, not understanding what he had meant by ‘taking a room’. “I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey here. A flight from the Commonwealth of The Bahamas and then a longer drive to New Orleans. I can only assume you’re exhausted and it’d be terribly unmannerly of me to not offer you hospitality.” He explains, tilting his head. “Perhaps, it’d give you time to recuperate and maybe… take in a few sights in the morning.”

His tone is hopeful, filled with possibility. She’d be lying to say that his behavior and words haven’t been a little tempting. Everything from the last few minutes has only shown her that Klaus is the same man that he’s always been. She wasn’t really expecting different, but deep down she had an idea that maybe he’d grown up a bit. This, right here, proves that he has. The man before would have threatened Josh instead of negotiating and he would have not had given up his blood so easily without a fuss. Would it really be such a bad thing to stay the night, in a different room than him? It’s not as if she’d be sleeping with him. Plus, it’d be for only one night.

“I’m not sure.” She trails off, still debating the decision in her head.

“I’ll be sure to make it worth your while.” He states with a grin, knowing gleam in his eyes.

Caroline laughs, the air in the room now becoming a little lighter. “I’m sure you would.”

He raises his eyebrows for a moment, silently asking her for an answer. She bites her bottom lip timidly. “One night wouldn’t hurt.” She states and a wide smirk grows on his lips, showing his thorough satisfaction.

“Well, then. Shall I show you to a room?”

She nods, not finding the right words to say in that moment. He immediately begins to walk towards the french doors that they had entered in and opens them wide for her to pass through. It didn’t take long for them to bound up the stairs to the second story and then travel down a long corridor where a series of doors were on each side. Klaus, then, opened a mahogany door, revealing a gorgeously decorated room with a queen bed, antique dresser, small desk with a chair, and a door that lead to an adjacent bathroom. He’d been thorough in explaining the certain accommodations of her room and how his room is only a few doors down. After, he had left her to look around to gather her some clothing. When he’d come back, he’d placed a pile of clothes on the end of the bed.

“I’ve procured most of these from Hayley. I’d doubt she’d mind much and I assumed you’d be closer to size with her rather than Rebekah. And my sister has a nasty habit of killing whoever touches her belongings.” Klaus states as he turns towards her.

She smiles at him. Her thoughts going past the topic of clothing. “How’d you know I was in The Bahamas?”

“I’ve kept tabs.” He mutters a little playfully, knowing that Caroline wouldn’t approve. She gives him an equally playful look and then rolls her eyes.

“Of course, you have.”

Klaus chuckles as she goes to sit down on the end of the bed. He does as well, making sure to keep a foot’s distance away from her to make sure she stays comfortable and not overwhelmed by his presence. “Tell me, now that you’ve begun to stray from that desperately small town, how is it? Exploring the unknown?”

Caroline hesitates for a moment, thinking about her experiences in the past decade and a half of exploring. They’d mostly been pleasant but nothing extraordinary. Yes, she’d been extremely impressed by the culture, architecture and environment, but it wasn’t as exciting as she had ever hoped or imagined. Although, she imagines that’s because she didn’t have anyone to explore it with. In the beginning she had thought Stefan may have joined her, but he’d been too swept up with a few problems in Mystic Falls and trying to make his brother into a ‘better man’. Like that would ever happen unless it was by Damon’s own incentive. Elena and Bonnie were too wrapped up in college and in their own love lives as it was, so that was a clear ‘no’. So, that just left herself. After her mother died, she’d needed a break and took the opportunity to branch off a little. In the long run, it has paid off. She’d met a few people here and there, as well as giving her a new perspective of the world.

“It was kind of a quick decision. At first, I wanted to stay in the States and just London but the rest of Western Europe was too tempting to pass up.” She states and Klaus seems pleasantly pleased. “But, I kinda wanted to go somewhere hot, so I ended up in The Bahamas.”

“I imagine you enjoyed it there?”

She nods.

“And you?”

Klaus tilts his head in interest to her question. “What of me?” He asks, genuinely satisfied that she was interested in how his life had been going.

“Well, I was a little surprised that you were still in New Orleans. I expected you to move on. I didn’t suspect you as a person that stays in one place for long.”

He smirks. She is, generally, correct. “I’d quite a bit of business to take care of here that took a little longer than I had anticipated and raising a child was one of the things I was most definitely not expecting.”

“I’m sure changing diapers didn’t fit so well into your plans for world domination, huh?” She asks teasingly, giving him a radiant smile.

Klaus chuckles, amused and glad that her penchant for over-exaggeration hasn’t changed. He’d always enjoyed the innocence within her and the light she projected off of herself and onto others.

“You’d be correct.”

He smirked and they’d fallen into a silence. Caroline suddenly felt heated under his gaze, the intensity of it not lessening but a gracefulness communicating through those beautiful, blue orbs.

In all reality, he hadn't changed that much. Of course, she can see that he’d become less prone to using violence as a first resort, but the way he regarded her was the same. He still looked at her with that look in his eyes that just screamed that he knew exactly what she was thinking. In the beginning, it was a little scary, she’ll admit, that he knew more about her than he let on. Although, after all this time, she’s come to realize that it’s not necessarily the worst thing.

He understood her. But, it wasn’t just a one-way street. She knew him quite well, too. A decade ago, she would have said that she knew exactly the man he was, a monster. She’d pegged him for a man that had no heart. How wrong she was. After some time, she’s noticed that all the horrible things that he had done were because he cared. He’d always been pinned as the enemy, although sometimes he genuinely did something bad to get the advantage, but that wasn’t strictly true. Klaus was an extremely complicated man. He has many sides of him and has an extremely dark past that comes with them. His father brutally abused him, his mother locked half of himself off for spite, his siblings cast him off for trying to protect them. In fact, she’d condemned him and slung harsh words at him just because she didn’t truly understand his real intentions behind his actions.

Now, she realizes him for the man that he was. He was an abused son, an abandoned brother, a misunderstood friend, a passionate artist, a good father.

“Well, I’ll leave you to settle and call your friends. I’d rather not have them thinking I’d taken you against your will and have to deal with them knocking down my door. I’ve just gotten it re-painted.”

His tone is light-hearted and filled with playfulness. Caroline smiles again as he stands from the bed, walking towards the door.

“Goodnight.”

He pauses at the door and looks over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Goodnight, love.”

#klaus x caroline #klaus #klaroline drabbles #klaroline #drabble #the originals #the vampire diaries #love

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spartanbunjase · 4 years

Text

Work For It.

@elloryia posted a list of prompt ideas to get us through. I saved a few and this is the first one.

Warnings: Omegaverse. Fluff. Minor Angst.

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Ra’s al Ghul, others mentioned.

Relatioship: Jason Todd/Ra’s al Ghul

It was weird getting used to living as an omega after spending so many years thinking you were a beta. The malnutrition had been reversed thanks to the pit. However, with the new health came the wonderful presentation of his secondary gender.

Those first few months were awful. Heat after heat spent alone as he focused on his revenge plot. His body begging for an alpha that he refused to find. None of them had proved themselves to him. Unlike the omegas he’d grown up seeing while living with Bruce, Jason acted closer to his roots. Roots that lined up with the values in the League. He needed an alpha to prove themselves to him. To win him.

No alpha seemed to want to try. With the jewels dripping from his ears and a sparkling ring through his septum it was clear to all that he was an omega. Not just any omega either. He’d gained a reputation in Nanda Parbat as someone who cared for the ‘little’ people. Those that were often service workers and kids. Within the walls of Ra’s’ domain Jason was regularly seen putting alphas on their arse. All submitting to him.

Submission isn’t what he wanted. Jason wanted an alpha who would stand with him. One who’d fight for him and with him, one proved strong enough to sire any pups Jason may end up wanting. Sadly none had come about.

Gotham had been a dead end. Western ideals towards omegas was slightly better in the middle and lower classes. Each realising that people had to work together to survive. The upper echelon though were rude and derogatory. They shunned him for the blatant show of his designation. The jewellery and clothes those that he’d gotten used to in the League. Ra’s never forced the older ways onto him, he just found all they represented and how they made him feel we’re good enough reasons. The al Ghul family had gifted him most of what he’d worn, including the helmet he’d used as Red Hood.

Damian was the only light relief. The little alpha pup so formal towards everyone else. It had been wonderfully amusing to witness the family’s reaction to their reunion. His pup had dropped the electric batarang he’d been working on and ran towards Jason. Launching himself in a move that wouldn’t look out of place with Nightwing. Jason had caught the eight-year-old easily, swinging him around and nuzzling him close. Both slipping into League Arabic while scenting each other.

The amusement had faded into awkward explanations. The family not realising that Jason was an omega. He’d stuttered through, ultimately telling them that he’d begged Ra’s and Talia for any medications or magics they knew of so he could be Damian’s wet nurse after he’d had to kill the third one. The pup’s wet nurses seemed to think they could kidnap the heir to the League without consequence. After Jason had put them down he’d always find an elaborate gift from Ra’s in his quarters.

They’d found the necessary magics and Jason had been Damian’s wet nurse until he naturally weaned at twenty months. The alpha pup had continued to sleep in Jason’s nest. The pair closer than they were to others. While they’d been explaining everything Damian had seated himself in Jason’s lap. Going on an in-depth lesson about the history of omegas within the League and how every position Jason has ever held with them were given or earned with the highest degree of skill and understanding.

As Damian had gone on to explain how he’d caught Ra’s arguing with his jeweller over a piece he’d requested, Jason’s mind wandered off. He knew the piece Damian was talking about. It was an elaborate ear cuff for his left ear. Intricate swirls of platinum held in place by individual studs that held precious stones. Tiny chains dangled off it, diamonds embedded along it. There had been three of them; sapphires, emeralds, and rubies; to match the colours he loved to wear. They were ridiculously expensive and he’d tried to return them only for Ra’s to tell him that no other omega deserved such beauty.

The revelation was like a ninja sneaking up behind him and hitting him over the head. All these years he’d been looking for an alpha to prove themselves to him and there had been one right under his nose.

After months of planning he finally left Gotham, hoping the city would never again be his primary residence. A few flights, one of which was completely off the books, and he was driving towards the palace that sat in the heart of Nanda Parbat. Word had clearly spread of his return, a blush staining his cheeks as he saw the welcome Ra’s or Talia had rolled out. Guards had cleared the way straight to the door where a further two stood with the entrance already open.

Jason had felt a sense of calm settle over him as he’d walked through the corridors. The palace feeling more like home than the manor had the last couple of years. His muscles relaxed and he started walking taller. An alluringly deceptive sway making him appear to glide through the corridors.

“What has made you return to us?” Ra’s said, stepping from a shadow he’d been hiding in. Dramatic fucker Jason thought.

“I had a revelation and, if I’m correct then I haven’t just returned to you, I have returned home.” Jason was harnessing every bit of training he’d learnt to hide his nerves. If he was right, which Damian had already assured him he was, then he had no reason to be nervous.

The Demon’s Head stepped closer. His hand reaching out to run his knuckles down Jason’s cheek so he could cup his jaw. “Have you finally discovered that I have been proving myself the only alpha worthy of your brilliance, Beloved?”

The term caused a whine to tear its way through Jason’s defences. Smashing the cracks that one little word had caused. He’d been right. Every person Ra’s had fought and killed for him, every gift, every compliment given. All of it was his way of proving he was worthy.

A hand slipped around the back of his neck and into his hair. Gripping tight to pull his head to the side. As Jason’s knees went weak his instincts surged and he growled at the alpha. Ra’s returned the sound. Deeper and full of intent.

The fight was more of a dance. A couple performing a routine they’d been practicing for years. Ending in the omega with his back pinned to the wall and the alpha pressed up against his body. Teeth toying with his mating gland as the scent of their arousal mixed in the air. Just as Jason was expecting Ra’s to bite down, the man surprised him by offering his own neck first. Not an offer to be the alpha concubine but to be his equal. To share all the other had and be their unending support system.

#Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #omegaverse #nontraditional omegaverse #my writing #getting together

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aboyandhisstarship · 4 years

Text

Human are weird: The GTO/SICON verse Reboot

The GTO, Or Galactic Treaty Organization is a military and political alliance between a number of species in the alpha quadrat of the galaxy. The GTO is a rather new organization only founded nine years ago following the first contact incident, where The Klendthu’s crash landed on a small cold planet on the edge of a solar system at the edge of the galaxy, and encountered a small outpost, one mis understanding later, and The Klendthu’s spent 6 Terren months fighting the creature’s from the fourth planet.

Once diplomacy was able to be established through communications a cease fire was called, and the strange race who called themselves Humans started a dialog.

Over the last nine years the alliance has grown to be a massive power house in economics, Politics and Defense. They are 4 major races in the alliance

The Klendthu Congress: an insect race with a regional hive mind, but don’t let that fool you, they are wicked smart and industrious. They have developed some of the most impressive mining tech available. Their planets is ruled by a Queen there entire government by the high queen, the average worker has about the same level of intelligence of a human 6 year old, but when working groups then can easily compete with a genius level human.

The Kalbur Merchant Empire: a race that vaguely resembles the big foots of earth legend. They are the economic Backbone of the GTO, there race is built around the building and creating of wealth, money heavily influencing there culture. Their government is run by a council of officials elected from the top business and workers unions on their world. In terms of technology they tend to lead in interstellar coms and other commercial type tech, with their military tech sorely lacking…as such they maintain an allied Military presence on their worlds.

The Verkia technocracy: an Aquatic telepathically floating species that vaguely resembles the squids of earth, they are the most advanced species in the known galaxy in almost every way. As such however they tend to be stiff and follow a very strict social custom; it is considered taboo for a student to leave the sciences in exchange for another discipline, sometimes leading as far as disowning by family and friends, or worse case total exile from Varikan society. There government is run by a council of appointed top scientists that are generally the heads of top instuites within Verikan space.”

The Strategically Integrated Collation of Nations: The Humans, the youngest race in the group as well as the craziest, Hailing from a death world on the edge of the galaxy where everything can and will kill you they are a society still recovering from finding out aliens even exist and there conflict with them. SICON was formed after the Pluto attacks from several of the earths major nation states, pushing aside the last barriers to unification. SICON is a democracy, with each former earth nation state, and Human colony earning a seat in the SICON Parliament with the majority seat holder winning said election with the party head becoming the Prime minster, Underneath them is the Star Marshal, commander in chief of the SICON Navy, and the ODT’s or Orbital Drop Teams… highly trained and equipped soldiers who go through a strict selection process. The nature of the human world as well as their Military technique’s make them the leader in Military technology by miles, with standard issue power suits for ground forces, the entire concept of Orbital insertion, air support and deep space carriers being introduced by the humans. These advantages are only enhanced by their natural predatory nature and ability to hone their bodies into killing machines….

T’Las groaned scratching her fur groaning “Great I keep making the humans sound terrifying.” The Kalbur sat back in the far too tall chair. It was built for a human after all she groaned, she sat in a gray metal room, the thick bulkheads joined into a thick window showing the swirls of hyperspace outside the window.

T’Las was grateful to the human for letting her take his office as he called it, but honestly being on a human ship was scary…well the entire assignment she was given was scary. 18 terran months ago a Verkian science ship crash landed on a Pre FTL society and well the folk on the planet went crazy fighting over the tech they could barely understand, by now only two groups remained on the planet before the GTO sent an intervention team, well Humans falling from the sky into your main base would put the fear of god into anyone and the sides agreed to moderated peace talks, she had actually been invited to dine in the captain’s cabin with the Ambassador, the Captain and the ODT Commanding officer, and had to quickly get ready. She put on her formal fur clips and quickly moved through the ship.

The Valley Forge is what the humans called it and as human ships go it was on the small side, only 400 meters long and 600 across. The vast majority was taken up by the Chekov drive core and the small retrieval ship and drop tubes for the ODT team. She left the section of the ship past a group of humans joking about something called a date, before she left the ODT region of the ship.

It took her a couple of minutes and asking for direction’s before she arrived at the metal door. She knocked and a human voice called “come in.”

Inside were to humans before dressed in their formal uniforms, one had more bars across her shoulders and was a human female, T’Las was able to identify as she introduced “Hello, you must be the reporter joining us, I’m Captain Hernández.”

The male human who was also in Dress uniform had shoulder patches on the side of his jacket that looked kind of like the Human drop pods as he introduced “Lieutenant William Erickson, ODT senior officer.”

T’Las carefully took the offered seat “Nice to meet you Captain Hernández, Lieutenant Erickson.”

There was sound of something scraping and a robotic voice saying “May I enter.”

Erickson and Herandez stood up as the door opened, in stepped a creature that walked on four legs, it was armoured and had 4 side facing eyes, attached to its chest was a small box, Herndez smiled “your Majesty.”

The creature screeched before a second later the robotic voice spoke “Captain, Lieutenant…we have known each other long enough to dispense with the Niceties surely.”

Erickson laughed “I’m sorry to say its official orders, they don’t want us causing too much trouble.”

Herndez chuckled as she said “you’re Majesty Queen of Gamma prime, this is T’Las of the Kalbur.”

T’Las had never seen a klendtuian queen before and muttered out a “Hello…your majesty.” She quickly added bowing slightly.

The queen made a chirping sound that robotic voice translated to a disjointed human laugh before saying “there is no need we are all equals here.”

The three of them sat down as a small platform elevated the queen to the table, Erickson took a sip of water saying “the squad says hi, and Futuba was real bummed she could not join us.”

The queen somehow betrayed a guine response through the robotic voice as she responded “I’m sorry they were unable to join, it has been for too long since I last saw dagger squad.”

A couple of humans still in there dress best placed done four plates, for the humans it was a simple salad meal with Erickson grinning “SICON figured streaks were not a good look.”

The queen chirped again as a plate of strange green slush was placed in front of her and T’Las got a salad in the style of her people. T’Las asked “so how do you all know each other?”

Erickson smiled without showing teeth “long story, it involves a lot of explosives.”

The queen scratched “it was my vessel that crashed on Pluto, then private Erickson, and then flight Lieutent Hernández crash landed in my den, we were lucky enough to have gotten our…talk box open…they were the first to talk to us…they helped us build peace.”

Erickson smiled “we got a cease fire and spent 3 weeks talking, we had to live off my mom’s cookies.”

The queen chirped “I’m sorry you could not eat our food.”

Herndez grinned “I thought the food was ok, the company was awful.”

Erickson looked genuinely hurt as the conversation moved to a different topic.

17 hours later:

T’Las was sitting in her quarters/ borrowed office mussing about the nature of Human space travel. Most other GTO races have adopted the supercharged carrier system, where the engines have a certain particle run through it in an infinite loop that somehow results in faster than light travel; Humans on the hand adopted the Chekov hyper drive, named after the human scientist Anton Chekov who invented it. The Chekov drive punches a hole in subspace allowing the human ship to enter into another dimension allowing the vessel hundreds time faster than the speed of light.

T’Las did not pretend to be well versed on the subject of interstellar Star ships but she started to write “as I fly on the human ship I noticed something interesting about the difference in the FTL Technology employed by SICON as opposed to the employed by the rest of the GTO, but first some background, for any ready who is not aware Humans are pursuit predators, what does this mean? imagine for a second that you are a terran creature, you see a human coming and run away. The issue is you are faster than the human but the human can chase you as far as they need to, sometimes for kilometers and days at a time.”

T’Las read that and said “NOPE.” She quickly edited “Being a Pursuit predator means they chase their prey, sometimes for days and across vast landscapes, just about anything can out sprint the average (non -power suit wearing) human, but in a distance race…you lose every time. What is the relevance of what I’m saying? Well Most FTL tech we know of is faster than Human hyperspace, but the Humans can go farther and for longer…Example, A Kalbur ship and a human ship need to cross GTO space, the distance is say 15 Cubic light years, The Kalbur ship would rock ahead of the ship until about 5 light years at which point it needs to slow down to let the engines recharge, by contrast the humans will stay be coming and easily overtake the Kalbur, once the Kalbur engines re charge they will jump and yet again overshoot the humans until uh oh, they have to stop again, meanwhile the humans have being moving at a steady pace this entire time and easily yet again over take the Kalbur and hit where they want to be easily hours before the Kalbur vessel.”

T’Las read it over before nodding approvingly “that’s better.” Adding “now the logical next question, what about in combat and yes it is as terrifying as you would think, the humans with their massive over gunned ships firing hunks of metal at a quarter of the speed of light at you, so you make a break for it…and you think you are in the clear then boom, they appear out of nowhere (reminder that we have yet to have anyway detect someone in Chekov travel, and if the humans do they are not sharing.) You can’t run you can’t hide you can only that they are feeling merciful.”

T’Las re read the last paragraph saying “way to dark…” deleting the last paragraph she smiled sending the story off, as well as her other noted on the function .

7 hours later:

T’Las heard a small knock on her door, and opened it to see a human with a strange shape on her face the human grinned “Hiyo.”

T’Las blinked “uhh hi?”

The human smiled “Specialist Futuba Kurogane, Dagger Squad, intel and Communication’s.”

T’Las nodded “Pleasure…uhhh not to be rude?”

Futuba grinned “oh yea right, this came for you from your boss,” Handing T’Las a drive saying “have a good one.”

T’Las played the message and it was her boss telling her “that last story is a gold mine! We have re run it 4 times and they still want more! Keep up the good work!”

T’Las rewatched the message 4 times saying “people are really that interested?”

2 hours later:

T’Las backed up as the creature advanced towards her, it was on four legs and bore it’s teeth as it sniffed her, the humans office door had closed cutting off her escape from the predator, T’Las considered making a break for it when a human shouted in a language her translator did not recognize. The creature instantly stopped sniffing her and trotted back towards the human, the human was a female of darker complexion who smiled sheepishly, saying to T’Las “sorry about Porthos here.”

T’Las took a deep breath before yelling “WHY DO YOU HAVE A DEADLY PREADTOR IN YOUR INCLOSED SPACESHIP!”

The human rolled her eyes “she is a MWD.”

T’Las said “what!?”

Erickson rounded the corner saying with crossed arms “heard some yelling, what’s the issue Specialist?”

He reached down petting the creature as the other human said “Porthos seems to put the fear of god into our guest here.”

Erickson sighed “Abebi, you know we had aliens onboard who would be scared of Porthos.”

Erickson looked at T’Las before saying “come on, I will fill you in.”

Mess hall:

Erickson drunk a glass of water explaining “there is a creature on earth called a dog.”

T’Las nodded following, as Erickson sighed “these animals have amazing sense of smell so we train them to find things for us; Porthos for instance is a bomb sniffer….so if you ever see him sit run….Abebi, is his Handler she takes care of leads the dog on mission’s…that make sense?”

T’Las sighed “sure you humans have trained a deadly predator to find equally deadly explosives for you…great…”

Erickson glanced at his wrist “we are almost at the planet get ready.”

Clapping T’Las on the shoulder

Hanger bay:

The ship rocked as it dropped out of hyperspace, Ericson was dressed in strange 4 piece garments with dark lens over his face as he explained “this place was a warzone a few days ago, so stay close and do as we tell you, everyone follow?”

The queen squawked her affirmative and T’Las nodded awkwardly as they boarded the military drop craft.

4 hours later:

The conference had been going on for hours now with the creature Porthos and his handler walking around constantly as the rest of the humans eyed the assembled crowd, so far everything was safe and secure. The peace was signed But then the meet and greet and the glad handing with the all the ambassador’s started, and well T’Las was happy she had her camera drone on for what happened next.

The drone had been flying around the room for about twenty minutes when an alien stepped forward to speak to the ambassador’s, Porthos walked towards the alien sniffing before sitting facing him. T’Las remembering what Erickson said looked for something to hide behind as all the humans in the room stiffed, The queen knowing what Porthos was as well changed color, however the aliens on the planet did not know what was about to happen. A tense second later, small sliver looking weapons appeared in the humans hands as Erickson yelled “hands in the air!”

Porthos rose up barking as Erickson yelled “Abebi!”

The handler nodded “on it sir!” yelling something in a strange human language, the dog advanced on the now terrified alien, sniffing before looking at the creatures jacket and growling. The humans moved in as Erickson said “Futuba call for evac, Abebi.”

The handler interrupted “checking the entire room got it.”

Erickson threw the alien down pulling out a bomb he quickly defused he said “Valley Forge we are pulling out over!”

The delegation quickly moved out to the waiting drop ship, handing the would be bomber over to the locals they blasted off, the humans visibly relaxed and started chatting with each other and the queen like they all almost didn’t get blown up, leaving T’Las to come to the conclusion “Humans are weird. “

#SICON verse #humans are weird #humans are space orcs

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mischief-over-matter · 5 years

Photo

Binary | Part I

Gravity is an inescapable force, even within the darkest corners of the universe. It's only a matter of time before something collides.

EMERGENCY STARTUP INITIALIZING

BOOTING...

BOOTING...[SUCCESS]

BIOS Configuration: [SUCCESS]

Loading OS...

CPU Check: [SUCCESS]

API Check: [SUCCESS]

Memory Banks: [OK]

AI Application: [OK]

Internal Software: [OK]

Anatomical Components: [OK]

Finalizing...

EMERGENCY STARTUP COMPLETE

INITIALIZING USER INTERFACE

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

For someone in a quite literal life-or-death situation, you were taking the news of your possible demise rather well. Perhaps that doesn't say much for someone in your line of work. Space exploration was a risky business, and coming home was not always guaranteed. Most, if not all who worked for the Federal Alliance of Astronomic Exploration knew that possibility before they signed on the dotted line.

You didn't expect it would be on your first solo mission, though.

In hindsight, your day seemed a little bit too perfect leading up to this mess, and maybe your cynical subconscious was expecting this pivotal point where everything goes south. Regardless, you weren't one to sit by while cursing your misfortune. And overall, it could be even worse. At least the life support was still functioning.

Oh, how you wished there was wood somewhere on the ship.

Standard protocol demands that regardless of the severity of the crisis, the ship's captain - in your case, yourself - was to immediately activate the emergency beacon and contact mission control. Step one was already a fail. According to the diagnostic scans, communications, navigation, and the engines were severely damaged and would take hours or even days for the self-repair bots to make any sort of significant progress. So, channeling in your former academy student self, you skipped right on to Plan B.

"Greetings, Lieutenant."

Or rather, Plan B skipped right on to you.

You nearly jumped out of your chair but managed to only give a startled gasp. Wheeling around, you came face to face with Plan B. For a glorified chunk of metal, it sure did move quietly.

"Are you alright?" said chunk of metal asked with a surprising amount of realism to his...its tone. "I detected a sudden increase in your heart rate. Are you in need of medical attention?"

You stared, temporarily taken aback by its sudden appearance. Sure, you were briefed on the purpose of the Auxiliary Crisis Sensory Emulating Learner, or ACSEL for short, but seeing one activated was an entirely new experience. The almost lifelike expression was truly something to behold, and you really ought to give a shout-out to the techs back home who made this happen. If you made it home...

Which led back to the matter at hand.

"No, I'm okay. You just surprised me, that's all," you sighed. "I didn't receive a notification that you were activated."

The ACSEL unit tilted its head and narrowed its eyes as if contemplating. It really was going to take some time getting used to those mannerisms on an android. "Perhaps there is an error in the ship's software?" It lightly smiled while extending its right hand towards you. "The CS Zenith is equipped with self-diagnostics and repair, yes? If I may, I would like to run an additional test. Permission to proceed, Lieutenant?"

You blinked, finally breaking yourself away from your thoughts to fall back into professionalism. Standing up and squaring your shoulders, you firmly shook his - its hand. To your ever-growing surprise, it was warm and smooth, yet undeniably solid. Almost like silicone.

"Granted," you replied before stepping to the side. It easily slid into the pilot's chair and instantly brought up the ship's readings. Nothing had changed. You watched in silent fascination while the android worked the dashboard as if it had years of experience under its belt. But your curiosity returned, and you found yourself wondering just how long it took to make something as complex as the ACSEL unit. Its designer obviously modeled it off of human anatomy, not too dissimilar to a store mannequin. The white exterior was a stark contrast to the muted colors of the cockpit. Gray lines decorated its body, allowing seamless, free-range movement that added to the realism. Give it a wig, slap some clothes on it, hide the port at the base of its head and you could definitely see someone mistaking the machine for a human. It even imitated a non-robotic masculine timbre almost perfectly.

The most intriguing thing about it though was the eyes. Glowing, electric blue eyes.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes?"

"While my system processes the damages, would you like to begin personalization?"

You raised a brow. "What for? I had thought you would be outfitted with knowledge about my basic information once you were activated?"

The android flicked a switch on the dashboard, allowing a port to be exposed before inserting its index finger. In any other situation, it would have been comical, but you surmised that this was a part of the machine's processing. "And you would be correct. However, I am referring to myself. One of my functions is personalization to assist with lessening the emotional and psychological impact that an emergency could have. Once I have established that the current environment is stable enough for such, of course," it explained before pausing. "In short, it is to make you feel more comfortable."

"Right..." you trailed off, idly scratching your cheek.

"The process is completely optional if you are satisfied with my default settings," it added gently. " I do not wish to provide you with unnecessary stress."

Chuckling, you waved him - it off dismissively. "It's not that. I just...never mind. How about starting with what I should address you as?"

It gave you a side glance, lips turned upwards once more. "I respond to my model and serial number, A.C.S.E.L. 749710145-121111117-110-103, but due to its length I can be assigned a temporary moniker of your choosing until I undergo a factory reset."

You were sorely tempted to name it something utterly ridiculous. You could almost feel the disapproval from your superior officer at the mere thought of it.

"If it aids you at all, the engineers had named me Blue during my trial period," it offered.

How innovative.

"Blue works," you said at last, much to the android's delight. Could it even feel such a thing? It certainly seemed so as you watch its smile turn into a wide grin and the blue irises rotated in recognition. Nevertheless, you returned the smile albeit hesitantly. "Status update."

"Ah...my systems have confirmed the Zenith has experienced internal engine failure, significant damage to the transmitter and faulty wiring to the navigation. Causes are inconclusive. Hull integrity and life support are operating at 100% efficiency. The estimated time of repair is between 96 and 125 hours."

You relaxed ever-so-slightly. A week wouldn't make much of an impact on your scheduled three-month journey to Alpha Centauri's space outpost. And with the beacon activated, your chances of getting out of here unscathed are highly in your favor. "Noted. Then proceed as needed. I'm going to check on the cargo," you stated.

"No need, Lieutenant," Blue assured while standing. It approached you before clasping its hands behind its back. "I will take that responsibility while you rest. You have been showing signs of minor sleep deprivation in addition to a decrease in your epinephrine levels."

Perplexed, you crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a wave of self-consciousness. "You can gauge my adrenaline? How?"

Maybe you said that a bit too forcefully because Blue actually flinched, as if surprised at your tone. Never in your life did you think you would feel regret for snapping at a machine. You must really be more exhausted than you thought.

"Not through nefarious means, I promise," he - it faltered. "My optic sensors can detect even the subtlest of movements. I...I noticed your body language gradually became more relaxed and your heart rate slowed. My intention was not to cause you distress, Lieutenant. I apologize."

Jesus Christ, you genuinely felt bad now.

"Uh, don't be. I should be apologizing. Getting snippy with you was highly unprofessional," you murmured wearily. Rubbing your left temple, you glanced up to see him observing you with an open stare. Looking closely, you could see his irises whirling. Processing information, perhaps? "Blue?"

It blinked and smiled as if amused. "Apologizing to a machine is unnecessary. I do not feel offended. Though I suppose the gesture is an indication of your good nature, so I thank you."

"You're...welcome?" That's enough weirdness for one day, you thought to yourself. "I will go take my leave then if you don't need me for anything else."

"Not at all, Lieutenant. Please sleep well."

"You too." Biting your tongue, you inwardly cringed at your automatic response. "I mean-"

Blue laughed, apparently unfazed by your slip up. "I shall, thank you."

As you departed from the cockpit, you rubbed the heel of your palm against your right eye. It was the strangest thing; talking to a machine that seemed so human. The FAAE had an abundance of the latest technology, including interactive AI programs. But Blue was the most advanced piece of work you had ever interacted with. It was almost jarring.

The walk back to your quarters was a short one, as the Zenith was one of the smaller cargo ships. Your room lacked any personal items and only housed the bare necessities such as a bed, closet, a small desk, and bathroom. The lights flickered on and the door hissed shut, leaving you to bask in privacy. Eyelids heavy, you decided to shower in the morning. A casual glance at your holopad showed the time back home: 8:47 A.M.

Make that in the evening.

Zipping down your flight suit, you tossed it on the chair before rummaging your closet for a shirt and sweatpants. "Computer. Set an alarm for 4:00 P.M."

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

The cockpit was relatively silent, save for the gentle hum of the reactor core only Blue could hear. Most of the overhead lights had been dimmed, indicating that the Lieutenant had gone to sleep. The android remained in the chair, perfectly still for 72.8 seconds before closing its eyes.

"ACSEL Unit reporting to Professor Thorne. Do you copy?"

Static feedback permeated its receptors. It felt its nonexistent brow crease in concentration. A few moments passed until it could faintly hear a reply.

"Proceed," was the garbled response.

"Preparing to upload visual and audio recordings as well as acquired data to the server...now." The surge of data left its system almost instantaneously, even from such a distance.

Thorne gave a pleased hum. "Continue your directive and ensure the subject remains incognizant until your arrival. Understood?" they emphasized.

"Yes, Professor."

The connection abruptly ended and Blue rapidly blinked back into focus.

Only the sight of stars and the vastness of space greeted the android. Tilting its head to the side, Blue zoomed in as much as his optics would allow on a particular star. The celestial body remained as but a speck of light to its viewpoints. These rare moments of free agency were captivating, and although it could merely emulate emotion, Blue's receptors always reacted positively. It struggled to understand why the professor always voiced against it. No matter. Such a variable was not programmed within its systems to be of concern. Even so, it remained enamored by the dangerous amalgamations of hydrogen and helium that roamed the universe.

"아름다운..." Blue whispered, unaware that it had spoken at all.

#exophilia #robophilia #android x reader #robot x human #M-o-M writes #writing #sfw #sci-fi romance

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blog-sliverofjade · 4 years

Text

Hearth Fires 3: Feline Tactics

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary: Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2783

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the magnificent pandabearer

Tien and JoJo hadn’t been back but three minutes before the rest of the pack came sniffing around. Remi could practically see their animals’ tails arched into question marks of curiosity. Taking a snickerdoodle for herself, Tien set the box on a table and stepped back to let the others swarm.

“Suddenly my cooking’s not good enough for you?” Avery scowled and folded his arms. “Fine, then you can cook for yourselves.” The lanky male threatened to stop running the kitchen in the communal aerie whenever someone irritated him, which was nearly on a weekly basis. He never did, though, because the offending party usually made reparations before the next mealtime.

“Hmm, it’s good enough for me, baby.” Tien nuzzled her nose against his with the soft, lazy smile she reserved for her mate and fed him a bite of snickerdoodle.

Avery chewed thoughtfully before muttering, “Not bad.” She stroked and petted his back until he wrapped an arm around her and fed her small bites.

“Oh man, I don’t care what you gotta do, we need this woman,” moaned Elijah around a cupcake, the senior soldier’s eyes rolling back into his head. “ I need this woman.”

“One look at you and she’d run,” Lark snorted and waved her caramel apple at him. A few slices of pecans fell off his cupcake and Elijah caught them with cat-like reflexes. He eyed her like he was considering pelting her with them, but after a moment he tossed them in his mouth with another groan.

“Besides, why do you automatically assume she would cook?” Tien frowned at Elijah.

“I’m sure I could coax the kitten into it,” he smirked and licked the frosting from his fingers. The male never had a shortage of lovers, all of whom looked like the cat that got into the cream when they shared skin privileges.

Normally, Remi would be more concerned about a submissive female tangling with a dominant male, particularly one as deadly as Elijah was under the jokes and openly sensual nature. Despite a face that was just shy of being beautiful and a body nearly as packed with muscle as his own, Remi doubted the other man could coax the reticent Lorelei into anything.

Remi, on the other hand, was certain he could entice her.

“She turned you down.” Theo’s quiet, but deep, voice drowned out the yumyumyum noises Elijah was making.

Everyone stilled and turned to look at their alpha. Merde, he’d hoped to gloss over his failure, but it was too late.

“Do you think I’d get arrested if I kidnapped her?” Elijah’s musing broke the silence as he contemplated the best way to attack the caramel apple he held. Remi smacked the back of his head.

“You’re a leopard, not a bear. Act like it,” he growled. The male soldier waggled his brows and bit into the apple, nearly unhinging his jaws in order to fit the damn thing in. His unrepentance slackened into concern when the caramel melted around his teeth and he appeared stuck.

“You’re just grumpy because she resisted your charms,” teased Lark. The sentinel was at the back of the room and therefore safely out of smacking range. While he knew that the teasing denoted an ease and a sense of safety, sometimes Remi braced himself to see if he would lose his temper. Some alphas didn’t permit such familiarity, holding more Machiavellian views, and he still worried that he fell into that group.

Instead of taking it as a challenge, his leopard rolled its eyes and flopped on its side with its back to Lark.

“I’ll remember that when the first snow hits and it’s time to do perimeter rotations.” He narrowed his eyes at Lark.

Elijah managed to break away from his sticky trap, taking half the apple with him.

“How’d she manage to defy our fearless leader?” he asked around the chunk of fruit. Or at least that’s what Remi assumed the garbled noises coming from the soldier’s mouth were.

“Ms. Maddox doesn’t see the need for pack.”

The soldiers and maternals stared at him. Most cats were solitary creatures, but their human halves needed community, family. Dominants needed to protect, and maternals needed to nurture. Each needed the other to feel whole. Even those who chose to go it alone understood those who preferred pack life.

Moreover, they could not afford to have a predatory Changeling living within their borders that wasn’t one of them, it might give ideas to those with purposes darker than creating sinful concoctions. RainFire was just large and powerful enough to make outsiders think twice before trespassing, but there were those who would be emboldened by her presence. They couldn’t hold off many repeated comers, and they had to protect their young ones.

None of the soldiers pointed any of that out, but they did exchange glances. Like him, they were uneasy at the prospect of having to drive Lorelei off, their instincts wanting to bring her in where they could watch over her along with the rest of their vulnerable. Not all of them had met the ocelot, but all were aware of her, just as they were the herd of elk that occasionally roamed through part of their area, the flight of crows to the east, and each individual non-predatory Changeling who lived on their territory.

“I do enjoy proving people wrong,” Tien said mildly into the silence, momentarily diverting the martially minded. Sly grins broke out around the room.

“No caveman tactics,” said Remi with a pointed look at Elijah, who gave him wide eyes in return. “We’re cats; at least try and be sneaky. If you can’t figure that out, I’m sure one of the cubs could give you tips.” Elijah clasped a hand to his chest as if mortally offended, then grimaced when his t-shirt adhered to his caramel-coated hand.

“Now that you’ve all been bribed and some of you are glued to your seats.” Elijah shifted and had to pry his palm off the table he sat on. “An email has been circulating in the area.” Remi brought it up on the screen at the front of the conference room. Everyone’s attention snapped to the display.

He smiled to himself.

The poor baby had no idea what she was in for when an entire pack of cats focused on a single goal.

“Of course they want it delivered,” Lorel muttered sarcastically to herself as she bobbled along the road, which was barely deserving of the name. A particularly large pothole had her worrying about cracking a tooth.

The hover option in her ancient sedan had given out that morning, and she had neither the time nor the money to get it looked at. She couldn’t even appreciate the patchwork of trees because she had to keep one eye on the rutted-out dirt track and the other on the cake in the backseat. If it bounced right up into the ceiling of the car, they weren’t getting a refund. And she was going to charge them to have the car detailed.

The donkey trail dead-ended in a turnabout circle; no buildings appeared to be in sight, the only sign of life was what looked like game trails leading off into the woods. Did they live in burrows like animals? She didn’t think that there were any caves in this part of the mountains.

Just as Lorel was contemplating whether or not to dump the goods and bail, a tall black woman materialized from the trees and motioned her to the right. What she’d thought was merely a grassy berm raised on hydraulic lifts to reveal a plas-crete reinforced bunker. The guide loped inside to lead her to an empty spot amongst rows of parked vehicles.

“Come into my parlour,” she muttered as she eased into the space. The door closed, leaving her in a dimly lit cavern. “That wasn’t ominous at all.” She popped the back hatch and sweat burst out of every pore when she stepped into the coolly neutral atmosphere of the garage. “That’s great, go into the leopard’s den reeking of fear.”

She was too busy muttering to herself to notice the man who swooped in and grabbed the cake before she could; she tried not to stare at his size. The man was built like a freaking tree.

“Thanks. Is the exit automatic or does someone need to let me out?” Please say it’s automatic. The man-tree was too busy admiring the neon green cake crowned with black chocolate that looked like it was oozing; black tentacles and strawberries with fanged maws of frosting emerged from the top. She was a little worried that he might start drooling. At least the boxes of cookies and cupcakes in her hands had lids and were therefore safe from him.

“If one speck of frosting’s out of place, you get to be the one to tell Tien,” the woman warned him, and shut the hatchback. He affected a shudder and stepped back to flank Lorel.

The two of them shepherded her towards a door set into the wall at the back of the lot. A bead of cold sweat slithered down the small of her back. Her cat did not like having two dominant predators at her back pushing her into unknown territory.

They led her through the thick, steel door and up a gently sloping corridor. It would be easy to move something heavy along the slight incline, like a dead body. And that thought certainly didn’t help her anxiety.

Her escorts ushered her through another door, also thick and steel, and into a clearing filled with sheer chaos. JoJo ran past in a pirate costume- Lorel only recognized her because she wore the same glittery, purple boots- and a leopard cub wearing a miniature cowboy hat nipped at her heels. Several other children, some of whom were on four paws, frolicked in a giant leaf pile at the other end of the clearing.

In the center there was a las-fire. Most of the adults either stood in groups or sat at tables off to one side. At one edge, far from the kids and the tables, the rest were playing a game of football. Full contact, of course.

All in all, it was a far cry from the church gatherings her grandparents had dragged her to. And yet, if not for the fact that they were strangers, both sides of her nature felt a curious sense of rightness, like she was home. She shut that in a box and locked it tight before she could analyze that.

Lorel managed to follow tree-man and tall, dark, and deadly over to the tables to deposit the treats.

“Welcome to the madhouse. Beer?”

She had to do a double take. The man who had come up on her left with a couple of longnecks was probably the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen, with deep aquamarine eyes that contrasted against flawless, brown skin. It was the fine angles of his face combined with the lithe musculature of his body that gave him the unreal perfection of a model. Although she preferred people who were more rugged, she could still appreciate a pretty face.

Then she had to mentally slap herself. Don’t fall for the bait .

“Um, no thanks,” she blinked, still attempting to process the pandemonium.

“Cider?”

“I don’t drink. Look, I think I’d better go.” Lorel took a step backward and ran into a wall. A tall, warm wall.

“Runnin’, catin?” the wall rumbled in that lyrical accent. Hairs along her arms and the nape of her neck stood at attention and she had to repress a shudder.

“Hardly.” She turned to Remi with an arched brow. “I would hate to trespass. I know that ruffles your fur the wrong way.” She wanted to clap a hand over her mouth before any other snarky comments spilled out of her.

To her surprise, he merely chuckled. Her ocelot cocked its head in confusion, having been hunkered down in a defensive crouch.

Before she could marshal her scrambled brains into some form of order, a little boy of maybe four or five clambered up Remi and clung to his back. Without looking, the alpha put a hand back to steady the climber.

“Hey peeshwank.” Ok, wow, that smile was dazzling enough to make even the model seem drab in comparison.

In response, the boy roared at the top of his lungs and bit Remi’s shoulder. Since he was in human form, his mouth didn’t even fit around the hard curve of muscle, let alone do any damage. If anything, Lorel was more worried about the child than the adult. Reaching back, Remi grabbed the kid’s ankle and hauled him around to scowl at his upside-down face.

“I’m a dinosaur!” the child giggled, his stick-straight hair hanging down in a short blonde curtain. His free leg kicked idly so he swung slightly in his alpha’s firm, yet gentle, grip. The blue t-shirt he wore had “When I grow up, I want to be a dinosaur” blazoned across the front.

“Dinosaurs don’t bite people,” Remi scolded, a gleam dancing in his eyes that couldn’t be hidden by his glare.

“Is it ‘cuz they’re dead?” The boy feigned innocence, widening baby blues that probably had gotten him out of trouble before, but it was his huge grin that gave him away. Every adult in the vicinity did their best not to laugh, some succeeding more than others.

“Yep, ‘cuz I ate dem.” With a growl, Remi lunged forward as if he was going to bite the soft belly that was exposed because the boy's shirt had bunched up around his ribcage. The kid let out a shriek that quickly dissolved into giggles at the raspberries Remi blew above his belly button.

Just when the child looked like he might pass out from lack of air and the blood rushing to his head, Remi gently tossed him to the giant who’d escorted Lorel. He caught the living projectile easily, his arms moving with the trajectory to cushion the landing. The kid shrieked with laughter and begged to be thrown in the pile of leaves. His wish was granted, albeit from a low height, once his playmates got out of the way. Soon, the man was bombarded with similar demands from the other children.

She felt as if someone had clubbed her between the eyes with a two-by-four. Of all the things she’d been led to believe when it came to changeling packs, none of what she had seen so far fit with that understanding. While the two men laughed and indulged the kids, she cast about for a way to slip away without being noticed and accidentally made eye contact with Tien.

The other woman took that as an invitation to come over.

“Lorel, the cake looks great!” she beamed. “Has anyone shown you around?”

“Um, no.” Lorel wished she could teleport herself out of there like a telekinetic; as it was, she had no idea how to extricate herself without offending nearly a hundred predatory changelings.

“You’ve already met Angel.” Tien pointed out the model-gorgeous man who’d offered her a drink. He was sharing it with the woman who’d met her out front. “That’s Lark with him, her cousin Theo’s the one swamped with cubs. And you remember Jojo.”

She gestured towards her daughter, who had joined the others frolicking in the leaves. She disappeared in a shimmer, shifting to her leopard form, and leapt into the leaf pile. Lorel blinked and glanced around at the adults, who carried on as if the little girl hadn’t just sprouted claws and fangs and jumped into a maelstrom of leaves and kids, some of which were human.

“You let the children run around…?” she broke off, searching for the right words.

“In leopard form? Of course.” Tien looked at her as if anything else was unimaginable. “She knows better by now. At least she has a spare Halloween costume,” she said with a fond sigh and rueful shake of her head.

“You’re not upset about the clothes?” When a changeling shifted, their clothing disintegrated around them.

“Normally she gets a reminder, but I’ll let it go this time,” she shrugged with a nonchalance that had Lorel feeling like an invisible band had tightened around her chest. “Got to pick your battles, you know? Did your poor grandparents ever have to rescue a naked cub from a tree?”

“Um, no.”

“Rescue” wasn’t the word for it. Did everyone here know her history? Was that why they were so keen on getting her to join? The thought of any of these strangers pitying her had claws pressing at the tips of her fingers

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annoyinglyjovialbird · 4 years

Text

Voltron: Next Generation

Juvenile Matters: I

Word Count: 2831

A/N: Allura, I asked for strength, not a 10,000 year nap. Thanks.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Pidge angrily said. The teens stared at Kova, looking to her for a cue.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." Kova had placed a hand on her hip, light brown eyes glinting. She said nothing more, turning around and leaving the med bay. Caleb followed her out, leading the others in order of color: Green, Yellow, and Blue. Allie smiled apologetically before leaving. The teens marched to the bridge, where they took their respective seats. Like a mama duck to her ducklings, Kova waited until every member was seated.

"We aren't going back to Earth, right?" Caleb was the first to speak. Kova had walked around her console to grip the railing. She nodded curtly.

"Is it not our responsibility to ensure them a safe return?" Allie quietly remarked. Again, Kova nodded.

"So," Liz was next. "What are we doing first?" Kova had been glaring into space (mental space, not actual space), so when she looked up to glare at actual space outside the windows at the front of the Coeus, Kova had the beginnings of a plan.

"Between the lost colonies, defeating Yorak, and retrieving the Black Lion, we have our hands tied," Kova said, standing with arms at her sides. "That isn't including solving the mystery of the cut contact between the Galactic Coalition and what Yorak is doing with the colonies."

"What are the colonies exactly?" Caleb asked as Kova pulled up a screen. Onscreen, a timelapse video began playing. It showed Altea and Daibazaal ships flying around each other, slowly constructing something in the dark space in between the two planets.

"The Galtean colonies were a gift between Altea and Daibazaal, in hopes to foster a new alliance and a new generation." Kova sped up the timelapse as she spoke, watching as the cores of the colonies took shape. "They colonies are designed to interlock and disconnect depending on the circumstance."

"Wait, interlock? Like, connect together?" Liz asked, clasping her hands together to further her point. Kova nodded, returning her eyes to the screen.

"There are four of these systems built." Allie stood up to point out the four colonies as they were built. "The first, Alpha, housed warehouses and ship ports. They were the repairers of the four. The second, Beta, housed libraries, schools, social buildings. The third, Gamma, is the largest since they are the residential colony. The fourth, Sirius, wasn't included until late in the plans, but they are the strongest of the four."

"How, exactly?" Caleb had crossed his leg so his ankle met his opposite knee. He rested his head on a fist, his elbow touching the armrest.

"Sirius housed the military and a hospital," Kova answered bluntly. Allie had turned when Caleb asked, so she pointed at Kova with both hands close to her chest. As she sat, the four colonies grew until they were one large city floating in the air. Alteans and Galra alike cheered as the interlocked colonies took flight on its own. An Altean blue particle barrier activated itself around the colonies when they were far enough away from Altea, where they had been originally constructed. As the timelapse ended, Kova pulled up reports of the last sighting of the Galtean colonies. A folder simply labeled 'BIRTHS' caught Caleb's attention. He rose his head to get a closer look. It was enough for Allie to explain what had happened.

The Alteans and Galra who volunteered to live in the colonies were also assisted in fertility treatments. Over the past thirty years since their construction, thousands of Altean, Galra, and the uncommon Galtean infants were born with more success each time. Allie explained that Galra DNA can become incredibly hostile towards foreign genetic material, causing it to basically eat itself as it is forming. With absolutely no idea how human researchers figured out how to 'turn off' the genetic hostility in growing babies. Galteans, unfortunately, still have shorter lifespans compared to either race. The same went for every Galra half-breed, no matter what the other half was. Cake, Allie, and Kova looked fine, while Liz and Caleb looked panicked. Kova had to roll her eyes and explain she wasn't dying until at least one-hundred. The same went for Cake and Allie.

"Help us look for our daughter!" Keith demanded as he stomped into the bridge. He brushed past Kova at her console, shoved Allie into her seat, and stood in the middle of the floor with blue-gray eyes glaring at the five teens.

"Not until you say the magic word." Kova raised her hands in surrender, even taking a step back from her console. Keith was having none of it, baring his teeth.

"Now." His voice was a near growl as the other adults walked in. Pidge and Hunk took a moment to admire the bridge in its glory. Pidge locked her eyes on the vast space outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the Coeus. Hunk noticed the tension in the room but was already halfway down the stairs. Shiro and Kenny rushed in behind the teen at the front.

"Please," Pidge pleaded, tearing her gaze away from the window. Her hands wrapped themselves around Keith's bicep, softening his expression. "Please. We need to find our daughter."

"Okay." Kova shrugged, stepping to her console. She flicked her eyes from the screen to Keith. "That's all you had to say." Closing the files they were looking at, Kova opened the Garrison student database.

"When did you..." Shiro trailed off, pointing at the screen. Kova once again shrugged, typing in credentials.

"Let me know when you need to upgrade the firewall," Kova said, looking up at the screen.

"How is the Garrison going to help us?" Keith demanded, glaring at the teen. While the teens and Kenny looked panicked, Kova's face never shifted, remaining an almost bored neutral.

"Keith Kogane and Katie Holt have successful careers in humanitarian relief and aerospace engineering because of their time at the Galaxy Garrison." Kova sounded as bored as your facial expression seemed to show. "If they were to have a kid, they would likely attend the school their parents attended."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Hunk said after a moment, shrugging and closing his eyes as he spoke.

"Besides, while we see the GSD, there's an underlying code connected to other school databases throughout the entire state." Kova moved her cursor over the search bar, readying her hands over the keyboard. "What's her name?"

"You can't do that," Pidge exclaimed.

"Kyla," Keith said at the same time.

"I can do that, and I did that. Now, Kyla Kogane?"

"Yes." Keith nodded his head. "K-Y-L-A."

"I can spell, thanks," Kova retorted, typing the name into the search bar. "This system will check the whole name, then the two names separately. It's not instant, but it will search through every available database." Hitting run, Kova leaned on the railing to her right, Caleb crossed his leg again, Liz rested her elbows on the desk so her head rested on her hands, Cake leaned back into his chair with hands behind his head, and Allie rubbed her side where her ribs met the edge of the desk. Oh, wait till Kova found out. There was no way Keith would survive Kova's wrath.

It was only a few minutes, but those few minutes were enough for Shiro to join the other adults on the floor. Kenny stayed above next to Kova, studying the screen.

The results read as follows: KYLA KOGANE - 0 RESULTS; KYLA - 5 RESULTS OOD; KOGANE - 2 RESULTS WD.

As the red 0 embedded itself into Pidge and Keith's memory, Kova stretched her arms.

"OOD is out-of-district, which just means it's not at the Garrison. WD is within the district, meaning—"

"That there are two pings inside the GSD," Kenny finished for Kova, staring at the screen. He turned to meet Kova's eyes, and she did the same. The two shared a look, saying more than would ever be said between the two.

"The five," Keith said, approaching the screen to reach his hand out. "Can we see them?"

"Yeah, but I seriously doubt it's your girl."

"Do it." Shiro worriedly looked from Keith to Kova, the latter shrugged and did what she was told to do.

The five individuals appeared on the screen. Two were from the same district, one was from a different one, and the other two were black and white images from a third district. The first was a boarding school, and one of the individuals was a teacher at the facility. Her hair was silver, wrapped in a fancy bun, and a scowl embedded into her face. Kyla Hannigan, as the teacher was named, was also one of the black and white pictures from the third district. She had the same scowl on her face, although she looked forty years younger. Kyla Marrow, the other black and white girl, passed away several years ago, leaving a granddaughter also named Kyla Marrow, the only Kyla in her public school. The last Kyla, the one from the boarding school where Ms. Hannigan taught, was in her first year. Maybe twelve years old, if that.

Kova didn't mention any of this, just pointed out vague details on each of the Kylas, and the pictures confirmed there was no connection between any of these Kylas and the missing Kogane girl.

"The two results of Kogane within the district are," Kova said as she exited the 'Kyla' search results and entered the 'Kogane' results. "Takashi Heath Kogane and Kenneth Samuel Kogane."

"Wait, that's- AH!" Cake tried saying before Liz pulled the tails of his headband to get his attention. Her eyes said 'Talk and you die', and Cake listened well.

"You had a mullet?" Kova asked, side-eyeing Kenny. He looked flushed, holding his light brown hair, messy from lack of hair products.

"Shut up." Kenny lost the fight, his face turning beet red. He looked down with interlaced fingers over the back of his neck.

"Kova, that's enough," Shiro scolded. While Kova smiled, Kenny looked up. Shiro motioned Kenny forward, which he reluctantly did. There was no way Kenny would know what would happen.

"Pidge, this is Kenny." Shiro wrapped an arm around Kenny's shoulders as he spoke, pushing him forward towards his parents.

"What are you talking about?" Pidge asked, staring at the man in front of her. "Kenny's sixteen."

"That was forever ago," Kenny said, reaching out towards Pidge. Pidge stepped back, further into Keith's embrace. Keith and Kenny shared a look, having Kenny back away.

"Unless your daughter changed her name over the past several years or moved out of state," Kova interrupted the moment. "There is no record of your daughter ever existing."

"Can we begin actual plans, then?" Liz asked, her voice harsher than it had been in weeks.

"Yes!" Cake cheered. "Please!"

"Return to the med bays, reacquaint yourselves and we'll let you know when your rooms are ready," Kova said, closing the GSD, and opening several maps.

Keith, Pidge, and Hunk didn't move. Kenny climbed the stairs, stopping at the head when he noticed they weren't moving. Shiro had climbed the other set of stairs, stopping instead at the foot of the stairs. The trio looked among themselves, before turning to the teens.

"We should be the ones leading this mission," Keith stated rather confidently. "You're kids." The teens still dressed in Paladin armor, had disbelief on their faces. In a vain attempt to keep the peace, Shiro tried to plead with Keith. Kova spoke before he had the chance.

"Griffin, pull up maps of our tracker. Smythe, get more information on the disappearance. Garrett, review systems and reconnect the satellite. Sec, is the Coeus ready for battle?" Her commands stirred the others into a team mentality, turning the disbelief into spite. The teens were quick to activate their consoles, with each carrying out their individual tasks.

"Ballistas are down, particle barrier is on standby," Caleb reported, trying to reboot the weapons systems.

"Holt, check if it's a software issue or a design malfunction." Kenny nodded, leaving the bridge.

"You can't ignore us forever." Kova had moved her holoscreen to hover directly in front of her so she could type and still look in the same direction. "I'm above you in rank, so do what I said and back down." Liz, Cake, and Caleb stared at Keith with shock written all over their faces. Kova bristled, stilling her fingers.

"Listen to me, and listen carefully," Kova started, descending the staircase Shiro was at earlier. It was to avoid Caleb's interference, but it wasn't like they would know that. "I am a top student at the Garrison, about to be the youngest officer in Garrison history, and am currently Paladin of the Black Lion, leader of Voltron." With every statement, Kova descended the staircase, until she reached the floor. Then, she took careful steps toward Keith and Pidge. "You have been declared MIA and considered deceased for a decade, losing your status and any rank you may have had." Kova was only inches away from Keith's face, glaring into his eyes. Kova was only inches shorter than Keith, so the staring contest wasn't ridiculous. The pair held the other's gaze long enough for Shiro to intervene.

"Continue your tasks as ordered," Shiro told the teens. "You go ahead into the med bay. Kova, in my office." Kova and Shiro walked away first. As they left the bridge, the teens glared and ignored the trio until they left. Allie flinched as Keith passed by, but nothing more was said.

"Kovalia, what was that?" Shiro began his reprimand. "You're the leader of Voltron, a high ranking student, my daughter. You're supposed to be showing that rank without telling people off!"

"He questioned my authority!" Kova argued. "Again! This is the second time he has tried to overturn my decisions."

"So you let me handle him!" Shiro stood to full height. Shiro's time at the Garrison was starting to show. "Is that so hard to do?"

"YES!" Kova all but shouted. "We've avoided using 'Emperor' and 'Yorak' in the same sentence, we haven't tried telling them about current events, and besides Kenny being ten years older than before, I doubt they believe us when we say it's been ten quiznacking years since anyone has seen them!"

"Kyla, enough!" Curtis yelled over Kova's yelling. Both Shiro and Kova stared at the holoscreen on Shiro's desk with shock on both their faces.

"How, uh, how long have you been there?" Kova asked, pointing at the holographic picture of Curtis.

"Long enough." Curtis crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "Kova, you are dismissed to your room."

"Yes sir," Kova muttered, shooting Shiro a look. Kova never made it to her room, as the Coeus violently leaned to its left. Kova ran to the bridge, with another blast propelling her forward to collide with the console. While her ribs might be bruised for a while, it didn't matter when faced with multiple enemy ships, almost all of them bearing the bright purple V with a little tail.

"Hand over the half-Galra and no one gets hurt." An unknown voice spoke before their face appeared on the Coeus's screen, completely covered from head to hip in dark armor with a wide V with a tail. The large gun in their hands was held to appear more intimidating, but the slight shake of his hands spoke louder than words. With a small hand signal, Caleb and Liz activated the particle barrier and closed off sectors of the ship. It trapped Kenny on one side of the ship with the former Paladins while trapping the current Paladins and Shiro.

As the particle barrier surrounded the Coeus, the enemy ships fired. Kenny sent a small message to the console, and Kova sent back an agreement. The lights on the entire ship turned off, replaced by low red lights. The steering apparatus for the Coeus appeared at Kova's console, ready for her influence. Before taking control over steering, Kova sent the message to the other Paladins on their consoles.

ER: 'Ballistas report a design failure. We have to travel via wormhole'

HC: 'Prepare the ship. I got steering.'

The Paladins could only brace themselves, hoping that the Coeus could endure this battle. That's when Caleb had an idea. Sending a brief message to Kova, he went to the Coeus's network. Transferring the page to Liz, they both set to work.

They still had the training bot.

Activating the large mecha, Caleb and Liz took over its motor functions. Caleb controlled everything above the hips, while Liz had everything below. The transport bay doors opened, and the pair led the bot out. There was a hole in the particle barrier, but it would have to dealt with later. The pair piloted the bot until a well-aimed shot took it offline.

By the time the mecha died, the Coeus was already gone through the wormhole.

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isitkpop · 5 years

Text

Silver Lining - Bang Chan | Ch. 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!OC

Summary: Bang Chan has been tracking down a lone Were for a week now. Once he catches up to her, he soon learns that she’s been running from a danger that threatens the safety of her and possibly other Were’s around. But one thing stood out the most to him, she can never transform again due to silver injected in her veins.

Genre: Werewolf AU (Silver AU)

Warnings: Mentions of Silver Torture, Blood, mention of deaths, and religious views. (The Moon is seen as a Goddess and there is mention of praying to it.)

Word Count: Approx. 1.2k

Next Chapter

The woods were not a good place to hide in. Bang Chan shifted his ears towards the crunch of the fall leaves, the scent of the lone Were was prominent in north east. He sprinted into the direction and followed the scent of the alpha and a strong amount of silver, a forbidden element for his species. He remembered when the news got around about silver being banned because of its uses. Some packs grew mad and fled to other countries while others were glad to rid of the poisonous element.

He entered the Circle of Hell, a clearing of a perfect circle within the woods and stayed into the tree line and watched the Were sit in the middle. The moon beams illuminated the figure, who started to pray towards the moon. Chan never really believed in the Were’s religion of The Lady. To him, the moon was just there to dimly light up the night.

He let his bag fall from his mouth and took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. The moon was, thankfully, in a waning gibbous phase. The shift was still difficult but not impossible. He sighed with the relief of reaching the tipping point and rolled his shoulders and stretched in his human form and pulled his clothes back on from his bag. He started to approach the Were, ready to capture them and throw them on a flight back to where she came from. The silver stench was strong, and he tried to see the forbidden weapon, but as he grew closer, he found no such thing. Which meant that this Were was of no threat to his pack.

“Hello?” Chan watched the Were as she shifted and scooted a few feet back from him, clearly frightened by him being close. “No, no. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He noticed her shaking but her eyes were strong and held caution, she was smart. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re crossing through territory without permission. You-“

“You should leave me be. I mean no harm to your pack.”

“Yeah well, you still should have asked permission to travel through first.”

“There is nowhere. My Were was stolen from me.”

There was something odd about this Were. She didn’t seem normal. He was more focused on the scent of silver. “Why am I smelling silver all over you?”

“They took my Were away. They took it and then I ran away from them. But part of them is still here.” He watched her point to her arm.

He noticed her cut and her blood slowly seeping out of the wound, a mix of red and silver was prominent, and he then understood. Who knows how much silver was implanted into her? No wonder why she kept saying that they took her Were away. The silver in her blood keeps her from transforming. The vast amount may have also messed her mind up a little. Silver was known to do that depending on the amount.

“You’re Were is pretty.”

Chan was taken aback at the comment and his cheeks felt a little warm. But he cleared his throat and stood up straight again. “What do you mean my Were is pretty?”

“I can see the Were’s spirit and vice versa. Your Were spirit is very pretty and strong. Brown looks good on you.”

Chan knew about Were’s like her. They had the capability to see a Were’s form when they are in their human form and in the opposite too. They are known as Third Eye’s.

There were different types of Third Eye’s. One could foretell how a Were would look in the future and can determine if they would be alpha or omega or so on. The other is the one this very Were could do, see a Were’s current state. They can tell what the Were self looks like and vice versa. They can also determine your emotions through such notions.

“You’re worried.”

“Well yeah. You’ve been tortured with large amounts of silver and running through territory that does not belong to you. How do you think I’m going to feel?” Chan was a bit confused. He never dealt with this situation before as an enforcer. But he did know one thing. “You should come with me. I’m able to keep you safe from whoever did this to you. Are they still alive?”

“I ran from them after they took my Were away. I waited until they left.”

His concern grew. These people were still alive and using forbidden torture ways against Were’s. They were still alive and running amuck. The only thing he knew now was that this Were held valuable information that could help him find these people or Were’s and eliminate them. “I promise. We won’t hurt you. I will keep you from those who did this to you.”

“The Lady says I should trust you.”

He followed her through the woods after he grabbed his bag and towards his car. The pack house was a couple of miles out so they would have to stop at a hotel soon. The silence was a bit suffocating to him. He cleared his throat, “So, do you have a name?”

“They call me Sterling.”

“I don’t think that’s your real name.” The name was ironic for this Were.

“I long forgotten my real identity. I like Sterling.”

“We need to find a hotel. My pack house is far away still. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I feel very sleepy.”

He smiled very softly. “I bet. I’ve been chasing you for the past week now.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched Sterling crouch in the chair of the car. “Sorry. I was scared and they were telling me to run.”

“Who’s they?”

“My brother and father. Their bodies are no longer here but their Were’s remain with me.”

“Sterling, do you have any living family?”

“No. Just their Were.”

He knew she was talking about their spirits and his heart sunk at the thought of her loosing her family. “How long ago?”

“I don’t know. I was a young Were when they took us all and took our Were’s away.”

“So, they took all of you and took their Were’s away?”

“No. Just mine. They took their living forms away.”

Chan glanced over at her as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’ll be right back. I need to see if there is a room available okay?” He watched her nod her head in agreement. Later that night, he gave her the bed while he laid on the couch, wide awake, unable to sleep from hearing about her family.

He turned his head to the other side to see her sleeping form. When they got into the room, he asked if it okay for him to clean up her wounds. Wounds that never healed due to the silver blocking her Were side. She still had a few enhancements, but not as strong as they should be. She was still strong and quick, but that was it.

He studied her form from where he was. He felt sympathy for her. Loosing her family so young, and never to transform ever again. She needed somebody. But he knows it can’t be him. Not after the tragedy back in 2015. He knows he can’t stay close and soon he was finally asleep.

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #stray kids chan #skz chan #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan fanfic #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan werewolf #bang chan werewolf au #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #skz scenario #skz imagine #skz fanfic

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nayutai · 6 years

Text

Afire Love

Word Count: 14.758

Warnings: foul language, alpha jimin, unprotected sex, spanking, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), anal play, female ejaculation, biting, jimin being a love-struck dumbass, arson, minor character death, violence, bad ass bitches getting shit done.....I think that’s it sksksksks

A/N: this is so different from anything I’ve written before so I’m really nervous about posting this. thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy this.

Tears are streaming down Jimin’s face as he and the other alphas crack their sides with laughter at Alpha Seokjin’s latest story. They’re supposed to be discussing the current political unrest in Europe amongst the humans and how they could help their ally packs over there, but somehow, they’ve ended up having story time. Something about French hookers that weren’t actually French and a bucket of fried chicken.

This is a normal occurrence for their annual meetings. There are only seven werewolf packs left in America. The result of mergers and various wars over the past few centuries. To keep the peace, the North American Werewolf Peace Council has been formed. Every year the seven sitting alphas meet up in neutral territory for a summit to hash out any grievances and discuss ways to preserve their way of life. Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook, Seokjin, and Hoseok, the seven current members of the council, have formed a pretty tight knit friendship over the years since they’d become the alphas of their packs so now the annual summits were pretty much glorified benders with a sprinkling of politics for appearance purposes.

Seokjin’s story time finally comes to a close and somehow, they all end up back on the age-old subject of the nickname Taehyung had dreamed up for their merry little group. Bangtan he insisted that they call themselves. The Korean word for bulletproof. It’s quite ironic when you consider that the only proven way to kill a werewolf short of dismemberment is a silver bullet through the heart. The rest of them make sure to tease Taehyung for his peculiar nickname choice and yet it’s been the name of their iMessage group chat for ages.

Jimin opens his mouth to join in on the bangtan slander when his phone buzzes on the table. He flips it over to glance at the screen, smile dropping immediately when he sees his Beta, Jackson’s name on the screen.

“What’s going on?” Jackson, the son of the pack’s previous Beta, was literally born to serve in this role so he knows just as much about running a pack as Jimin does. Taking care of the pack for one weekend is child’s play for him. If he’s calling, then something serious is going on. Jimin’s mind is working a mile a minute as he tries to think of what could possibly be going on. He’s so wrapped up in his own head that he doesn’t even notice the silence that blankets the room.

“Sariah was running patrol and found a rogue. She-” Jimin doesn’t wait for Jackson to finish his sentence. He’s heard all he needs to hear.

“I’m catching the next flight out.” He’s a whirlwind of movement as he quickly dismisses himself from the conference room of the swanky New York City hotel they’ve chosen to hold the summit in this year. Curses spout from his mouth like a waterfall as the elevator takes its sweet time delivering him to the 23rd floor where his room is.

Within three hours, Jimin is 30,000 feet in the air on his way back to Georgia. His knee bounces incessantly to the annoyance of the older woman sitting next to him but he ignores her. His wolf is feeling antsy, like something is about to happen. He’s practically vibrating with energy which is weird to say the least. This isn’t his first time dealing with rogues in the slightest. As a matter of fact, Jimin has built quite the reputation for himself for the swift and brutal hell he personally rains down on any rogue who crosses into territory with malicious intention. He digs his nails into the palm of his hands as he fights to keep his canines from lengthening at the mere thought of it.

His mind drifts back to that one summer afternoon right after he’d graduated high school. He was goofing off with his best friend Jackson and his older brother Matthew at the park when they heard the sudden sound of chaos erupting from somewhere across the pack territory. The three of them had instantly went into attack mode, on the verge of shifting. Jimin had made to go see what was going on as the snarling sounds of war had gotten louder. He was going to be the alpha of this pack one day and he needed to go help his pack. He hadn’t made it five feet towards the mayhem when he found himself being lifted from the ground and tossed into the small storage shed used to store the grounds keeping equipment along with an equally confused Jackson.

“You two stay put. Can’t have you getting yourselves killed trying to be brave.” Nearly eight years had passed since that day and he can still recall that sentence with perfect clarity. He didn’t know it at the time, but those were the last words that Matthew would ever say to him.

According to other members of the pack guard who’d been present, he went down protecting the daycare center. Three rogues had jumped him all at once and while he was able to hold them off long enough for back up to arrive, that backup didn’t get there in time to save Matthew.

Matthew hadn’t been the only casualty of the attack, but his death had sent the pack reeling. As the next wolf in line to be Beta, he’d been a major part of the pack’s operation as he slowly took on more and more duties from he and Jackson’s father. A gaping hole was left behind when he was killed. Jimin couldn’t stand the fact that he hadn’t been there to help his friend when he’d needed him the most.

As alpha, Jimin’s mother had never been particularly lenient with rogue and neither had any of the previous alphas before her. That fateful day erased any leniency she could have ever showed to rogue wolves. When Jimin became alpha, the first male to do so in twelve generations, he followed in his mother’s footsteps. There hadn’t been many rogues to make the mistake of trespassing into Jimin’s territory. Only a handful, but only one of them had lived to tell about it. A young teenager that had run away from an abusive household. As such, rogues learned to give his lands a wide berth when travelling. Coming too close meant certain death at the hands of the alpha.

* * *

The wheels of his black SUV have barely stopped turning before Jimin is hopping out of it. Jackson is standing in front of Jimin’s house waiting for him. He falls into step with the alpha as they make their way to the holding cells where rogues and criminals get dumped while awaiting punishment. Jimin’s mother, the former alpha of the pack, had commissioned the construction of the six-cell facility way before Jimin had even been born. Most of the pack member referred to it as “the dungeon” because of the dark, dank atmosphere. Getting dumped in the dungeon was a fate that most people tried to avoid which coincidentally meant that crime wasn’t really a problem amongst the pack members.

Jimin heaves open the heavy oak door of the dungeon as if it weighs nothing. The sun has long set so the only light is being provided by a couple torches affixed to the stone wall in front of the row of cells. Jimin’s wolf howls suddenly in the recesses of his mind. His nose twitching as he picks up on the faint scent of maple syrup and vanilla. He knows it’s not Jackson because he would’ve smelled it when he first got here. The frantic energy he’d felt on the plane increases tenfold as he steps further into the hallway where the smell is stronger. A melodic giggle bounces off the stone walls as he stops in front of the cell housing the pack’s latest prisoner. Jimin’s heart races at the tinkling sound while his stomach threatens to break rank and fall out of his ass. The young alpha had always been pretty smart so he can put two and two together to know that something about this rogue is different than most.

It’s the dead middle of summer in Georgia so the woman, who has yet to raise her head to acknowledge Jimin’s presence, is covered in sweat. Her hair is stringy and dirty. Her bare body covered in the same amount of filth. Jimin eyes the cuffs around her wrists and ankles that are keeping her restrained. The inside of the cuffs are laced with silver, which explains why the minor scrapes and cuts on her body haven’t healed yet. Silver, contrary to popular belief, doesn’t burn the skin while in human form but it does completely block the connection between one’s wolf which in turn makes them unable to take advantage of the rapid healing qualities that come with that connection. He audibly gasps, latching on to the metal bars of the cage in front of him, as he watches his nails lengthen into claws without provocation. It takes every ounce of mental fortitude he possesses to stop the shift so that he can remain in human form.

Jackson is giving them the rundown of everything that’s happened since the caught this rogue sneaking into his territory. Jimin’s attention is focused intently on the woman in front of him so he misses the confused look his beta is giving him. He’d actually forgotten that the other man was even behind him until he starts speaking. They both know that this is turning out greatly unlike any other time a rogue has stepped foot in these lands but only Jackson isn’t privy as to why.

Jimin is mildly irritated that the disrespectful little minx currently chained up in front of him has

yet to look him in the eye. Part of him knows that he doesn’t really need her to. From an early age, he’d been taught how to recognize the signs of a mating bond. Smelling something that reminds you of home in a place you shouldn’t be able to smell it. The sudden, intense urge to shift coupled with an accelerated heart rate. The only sign he hasn’t checked off the list is the most obvious of the bunch. Whenever werewolves make eye contact with their mates for the first time their irises glow a brilliant shade of white as if they’ve been replaced by pieces of the moon itself. Deep down, Jimin knows that the rogue in front of him is his mate. He knows this, but he still needs that last little bit of confirmation.

“Look at me.” He growls out. The three words are dripping with an alpha command. He can tell she’s resisting the urge to obey at the way her body starts shaking. She finally succumbs to the command seconds later.

Jackson whispers a curse, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding when the woman’s eyes begin to glow. Jimin can feel the warmth of his own eyes mimicking hers. A vicious roar vibrates the air in the dungeon as he turns to slam his fist into the unyielding stone wall. Jackson winces at the sickening crunch of the bones in Jimin’s hand breaking. His earlier confusion only grows as Jimin stalks out of the pack prison nursing his injured hand while his mate remains silent.

Jimin’s mind is reeling and so is his gut as he stalks through the pack village on autopilot, letting his instincts guide him wherever they see fit. He drops to his knees just outside of his house as he fights to control the beast that rages within him. The animal side of him is on the verge of revolt at the fact that he left his mate naked and chained to wall in the dungeon without staking his claim. This has to be some sort of sick joke. His mate can’t be a rogue. Bile rises in his throat at the mere thought of what that entails. Ever since Jimin was old enough to understand the concept of mates, he’d looked forward to the day that he could finally meet his. Now he wishes that this day had never come.

* * *

“For the love of everything good in this world, stop being such a pussy and go talk to her.” Seokjin is louder than normal as he yells at Jimin over Facetime. He’s so loud that Jimin hastily turns down the volume on his phone to keep the whole world from hearing the older alpha berate him like this.

“She’s a fucking rogue, Jin.” Jimin retorts. “She’s lucky I haven’t killed her yet.” Seokjin rolls his eyes skyward, calling upon the Lord for strength. He’s tempted to shift and run all the way to Brunswick, Georgia where Jimin’s territory is just to beat some sense into the younger alpha.

“This is the last thing I’m going to say about this because you’re working my nerves.” Jin starts, his voice lightly colored with the alpha tone. Jimin wants to protest Jin’s use of his alpha voice on him but he really doesn’t want to deal with more yelling from the other man.

“You are being an absolute dumbass. Yes, what happened to Matthew was terrible, but it has no bearing on the fact that you currently have your own mate locked in some smelly ass dungeon.” Jimin tries to interrupt but Jin talks right over him. “Do you even know why she’s a rogue? I’m willing to bet the answer is no.”

The retort dies on Jimin’s tongue as he takes in Jin’s words. The older man reiterates his previous assertion that Jimin needs to go talk to his mate or at least let her out of the jail cell before he ends the call. His mind is swirling in conflict.

Before he can change his mind, Jimin stands from the couch and walks out his front door. A few pack members try to strike up conversations as he heads towards the dungeon but he politely lets them know that now isn’t a good time. He fears that if his feet stop moving he’ll never go back to talk to her. The closer he gets to the stone structure, the faster his heart beats in his chest. He hates the control she has over him even though the mating process hasn’t been completed.

Jimin is surprised to see that his mate is showered, dressed, and unchained in her cell. Her raven black hair is pulled back from her face in a ponytail fully revealing her striking features. Now that the grime and wounds that had once covered her skin are gone, Jimin can really see just how beautiful she is. Her gaze is steady as she regards him through the bars of her prison. She looks totally at ease with her legs crossed in front of her. Her hands resting in her lap.

“You’re pretty short for an alpha.” Jimin snarls before he can stop himself. He knows that at five foot nine he’s a few inches shorter than the average alpha and it’s always been a sore point for him.

“Don’t test me, rogue.” He spits out through clenched teeth. His mate arches a single brow in response, laughing slightly under her breath.

“My name is Taryn Medí, not rogue,” she starts, lifting one of her hands up with her palm facing the ceiling. “and it’s you who shouldn’t test me.” Jimin’s jaw hits the concrete floor beneath his feet when her hand is suddenly engulfed in flames yet she seems wholly unaffected.

“Sanmana” He whispers out loud as if to confirm it for himself.

The Sanmana wolves are a single bloodline of wolves that can trace their ancestry back to one specific wolf and his fire mage mate. Their ancestors are the only known mating between a wolf and an elemental mage which made them practically royalty centuries ago. Despite continued mating, all descendants of that mating have been born with fire mage abilities and no one is sure why. The physical power of a werewolf combined with the fire bending powers of a mage made them a force to be reckoned with.

A little under a century ago, opinions shifted drastically after a Sanmana wolf killed her ex-boyfriend after being dumped because he’d found his mate. The slighted wolf had gone on an arson spree that devastated the European town she lived in before finally being taken down.

After all that devastation and death, Sanmana wolves were nearly hunted into extinction. Those who weren’t killed went into hiding. No one really knows exactly how many of them are left but Jimin knows there’s at least one more other than his mate. He takes a seat on the stone bench directly across from her cell to try and process everything he’s just learned.

He meets her eyes again to find her already staring at him. He thinks that he sees hope within the depths of her irises but if it was there it’s gone the second he stands up and takes a few steps towards the main door. Jimin fully intends to walk outside and never come back but something stops him. It dawns on him that Taryn has quite literally put her life in his hands by exposing her true nature to him. Jimin could out her and, for lack of a better term, toss her to the wolves without anyone guilting him about it. Silences stretches between them for what feels like eternity as he weighs his options. He takes another step towards the door, mind made up to leave, when he remembers Jin’s question.

“Why did you go rogue?” Jimin asks abruptly, breaking the silence. Taryn can sense that this is her one chance to change Jimin’s mind. It’s now or never.

“It was either go rogue or die.” She answers as she fiddles with a loose thread on the sweatpants she’s been given. “My mom was human and she got kidnapped by some wolves from an enemy pack and my dad used his abilities to get her back. They were both killed for it. I would’ve been killed too but the guard they sent to kill me couldn’t do it and told me to run so I did. I was six.”

“So, you’ve been a rogue all this time?” Jimin’s eyes nearly bug out at the thought of being alone that long. She looks somewhere around his age give or take a few years which puts her in her early to mid-twenties. That’s a hell of a long time to be alone.

Wolves are not solitary animals by nature and as shifters that same need for a pack is translated over to their human sides as well. The longer someone goes without a pack to call their own the worse their mental health gets until their certifiably insane. It’s what makes rogues so dangerous. The morals and ethics that come with being human are eroded away until they function solely on primal instincts.

“Oh God no. I’m originally from Canada about twenty miles or so from the American border so I immigrated if you will.” She explains. “I joined Alpha Curtis’ pack in North Dakota and it was fine up until a couple years when his son took over. He didn’t like the fact that I didn’t want to have sex with him so I shot him for trying to force my hand in the matter. He lived unfortunately.”

A sudden and vicious wave of anger crashes over Jimin as he thinks of some other man not only touching his mate but touching her against his will. He has half a mind to seek out the now dethroned alpha just to teach him a lesson on keeping his hands to himself. Jimin makes a mental note to call Yoongi and find out what became of the piece of shit that touched his mate when he took over their pack. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, taking a long look at the mate that fate had decided to give him.

“Do you promise not to burn the village down?” He asks.

“I resent the fact that you think I would, but yes, I promise not to burn the village down.” Taryn squeals with ill-suppressed joy when Jimin produces a set of keys from his back pocket. Being in the hell hole they call a holding cell has started to take a toll on her sanity. She hasn’t properly seen the sun since she was tossed in there.

The second she’s outside, Taryn takes a deep breath, head tilted skyward as she allows herself the time to bask in the sunlight. Jimin swears he’s never seen something more ethereal. She seems to practically glow in the light, the sun’s rays soaking into her brown skin in a way he’s never seen before.

“My house is this way.” She follows dutifully. Taryn’s eyes are everywhere as she takes in the sights and smells of her new home. It’s quaint. Just like the small towns you see in all the movies. Rows of mom and pop shops, a bakery, and a park where kids are playing under the watchful eye of their parents.

Their hands brush occasionally as she falls into step next to him. With every brush of his skin against hers, Jimin has to fight the urge to bend her over right where they stand. It’s downright unnatural the way they’re just casually not ripping each other’s clothes off as most wolves complete the mating bond as soon as they first met.

The pack members milling about openly stare at her slight frame, not bothering to hide their disgust at the rogue walking next to their beloved alpha. Jimin has to force himself not to lash out when she pulls her hair out of the ponytail, using it as a shield to hide behind. Her shoulders are slumped as she attempts to make herself as small as possible.

He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but Jimin grabs her hand in his. A barely audible gasp escapes her lips as he slots his fingers into the spaces between her own. She’s probably feeling the same rush of hormones that he is. That primal instinct to claim her nearly overwhelming him. He tightens his grip when she immediately tries to pull away. The fear and apprehension is radiating off of her as she pulls more of her hair into her face but she ceases her attempts to escape his grip.

The nosy pack members let their curiosity get the best of them as they follow Jimin and Taryn to their destination. Werewolves already have a higher heart rate than humans but for a second Jimin is worried that Taryn’s heart might actually beat out of her chest at any moment. The muscle is hammering away almost like a hummingbird behind her rib cage as the few people following them becomes a small crowd.

Jimin turns to face his people once he reaches his front porch. He clears his throat to address them and the murmuring among them ceases. He surveys them shrewdly as they wait anxiously for his announcement.

“This rogue is my mate. A formal announcement will be made at the next pack meeting in three days’ time.” Shocked exclamations ripple through the gathering of people as Jimin ushers Taryn through his front door.

“Does this mean you’re not rejecting me?” Gone is the cocky she-wolf that had challenged him with her words and feisty attitude. Once again, that same innocently hopeful expression is written all over her face. The difference between the two nearly gives him whiplash.

“Wouldn’t it be foolish to reject the only mate I have in this world?” A small smile creeps up on his face. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll see about finding you some more clothes.”

* * *

The three days leading up to the pack meeting are awkward to say the least. Taryn ventures out exactly one time and quickly finds out that the pack members aren’t too fond of her. The only people other than Jimin that seem to tolerate her is Mrs. Katrina Tran, the woman who has put herself in charge of making sure that Jimin doesn’t starve to death or accidentally burn his house down trying to cook, and her four-year old son Kevin.

Katrina takes Taryn under her wing, teaching her different recipes and just being a source of friendly conversation in general. She looks forwards to her visits every day. Playing cops and robbers with Kevin, who’s probably the happiest child she’s ever encountered, is the highlight of her afternoons.

It’s the day of the pack meeting and Taryn has been on edge all day. Chasing down the tiny culprit who’s just robbed a bank aka the candy bowl on Jimin’s coffee table is the only thing that’s been able to keep her mind off what’s going to happen in a matter of hours. Kevin giggles loudly as Taryn “apprehends” him, swinging him up into her arms. She spins around a few times as he squeals in childish delight. She can hear Katrina laughing along from where she stands in the kitchen but when a deeper, more masculine laugh joins hers, Taryn freezes. She looks to her left to see Jimin leaning back against the front door. He’s been so busy doing whatever it is that alpha’s do that they haven’t really seen that much of each other.

“More, Ryn!” Kevin demands as he twists around in her arms. Katrina, reading the room, swoops in to take her son from Taryn. She cajoles him with the promise of cookies as they disappear out of the back door.

“Uhm, hi, Jimin.” Taryn wants to smack herself for sounding so shy. That’s not her at all but something about Jimin’s energy makes her feel vulnerable. It’s like he can see through whatever façade she puts up to see the real her and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“Hi, Taryn.” Jimin’s voice is gravelly as if he’s been chewing on the tiny rocks in his driveway as he returns her greeting. The low timbre of it sends a shiver down her spine. She anxiously rubs at her arms in an attempt to rid herself of the goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.

The man in front of her slowly puts one foot in front of the other until he’s standing toe to toe with her. She can’t help but to take a deep breath in. He smells like the pine forest that surrounded her old pack after a fresh rain with a hint of citrus. It was always her favorite scent. Whenever she was stressed or feeling overwhelmed, she would shift and just sit in the forest, breathing in the smell of trees around her. It never failed to calm her nerves and smelling Jimin right now seemed to be having the same effect. She could feel her trepidation about the impending pack meeting melt away the longer he stood before her.

One look into Jimin’s eyes though and she can tell that he’s not in control right now. His irises that are normally a rich and beautiful brown have darkened to a dangerous obsidian ringed in gold. A sure sign that, for whatever reason, his wolf has taken charge. The sheer amount of power radiating off of him is close to suffocating Taryn as she fights against the urge to submit to the alpha, her alpha. Her panties are soaked through at the thought of what the man in front of her could do to her body if she let him. She’s sure that he can smell her at this point so it’s truly impressive that he hasn’t lunged at her yet.

“What’s your favorite food?” Taryn blurts out before she doesn’t something drastic like give into the sexual desires threatening to swallow her whole. Jimin arches one perfectly arched eyebrow at her strange question. “I just realized that I don’t know anything about you other than your name and that you’re the alpha.”

The darkness in his eyes slowly bleeds away and Taryn can finally start to breathe normally again. Jimin nods his head in acquiescence, thinking the question over carefully before answering. “Peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches. My mom always made them for me when I was a kid.”

He playfully nudges at her shoulder. Shockwaves of arousal ricochet through her being at his touch but she steels her resolve. “So, what’s your favorite food?” He asks, turning her question back on her. She doesn’t even have to think about the answer as it flies off her tongue.

“Belgian waffles.” She smiles softly at memories from her childhood. She would always demand Belgian waffles every morning to the point that her parents actually started calling her Waffle. It was an embarrassing nickname but now that her parents are gone she’d give anything to hear it again.

“Duly noted now come on we have a meeting to get to.” Jimin grabs her hand and butterflies erupt in Taryn’s gut as she lets Jimin lead her out of the door to wherever pack meetings are held around here.

* * *

“Have you mated her yet? Inquiring minds would like to know.” Jimin’s eyes rolls skyward. He almost regrets calling his younger brother Jaehyun. All he wants to know is how much longer until his baby niece arrives but instead he gets the fifth degree. He probably should’ve expected it though.

“Dear God, you’re worse than mom.” Jaehyun only laughs. Now that she no longer has alpha duties to attend to, their mother has been not so patiently waiting for her two sons to give her grandchildren to spoil.

Up until a year ago, neither Jimin nor Jaehyun had been mated but that all changed when Jaehyun had gone on a mission trip to Germany where he ended up meeting his mate Rosaline, the rising alpha of the pack who had offered to house Jaehyun’s mission group. Now they’re married and expecting their first child together. Jimin was only too happy to drop his parents off at the airport after Jaehyun had called to inform them of Rosaline’s pregnancy.

“At least I waited till she left the house to call so you could avoid all her questions. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, wow my savior. How can I ever repay you?” Jimin asks sarcastically. His eyes linger on the picture of him with his family that he keeps on his desk. He misses his parents and brother but he’s a little glad that they’re on the other side of the Atlantic right now because they’re a lot easier to ignore when their questions start to overwhelm him.

His phone call with his brother doesn’t last much longer as they both have important obligations that they need to get back to. His eyes are drawn back to the family photo. If his mother was here right now, he knows that she’d probably be beating him on the back of the head every day for being a dumbass. Jimin had told his parents about Taryn out of a sense of obligation the day she officially joined the pack and to say he regretted it would be an understatement. His mother constantly pestered him for details about her new “daughter-in-law”. She’d been pissed off to say the least when she’d stopped talking long enough to notice the absence of a mark on Jimin’s neck.

He’d intended to keep his reasons for the lack of a mark to himself but his mother had seen right through his lies. Eventually, Jimin broke down and told her the truth. The whole truth. She was shocked to learn that not only are the Sanmana wolves not extinct but her precious new “daughter-in-law” is also a descendent of the fiery hybrid mating from long ago. She’d been wary at first but she firmly believes in the entire concept of mates and therefore doesn’t understand why Jimin has been holding back. He keeps trying to explain his position to her but no matter what Jimin says his mother still holds firm to her conviction. Taryn is the only mate he’s going to get.

“Jimin, I hear your frustrations and your feelings are valid, but baby you can’t let these what-ifs keep you from your one chance at true love.” His mother’s soothing voice plays in his head like a broken record. She’s right. He knows it and she knows that she knows it too. So why can’t his brain stop disagreeing with his heart?

* * *

If someone didn’t know that Jimin and Taryn were mates, they’d probably think that they were just roommates with lots of sexual tension that no one had acted on yet. They still sleep in separate rooms and don’t see each other a lot since they’re both so busy with their respective pack duties. Their spoken communication has dwindled down to nearly nothing but they always manage to communicate in other little ways.

The first week after Taryn joins the pack s hellacious to say the least with Jimin dealing with all of the new construction and disagreements and new pack members that occur in those seven days. It reaches the point that Taryn notices that he’s nearly stopped eating as the plates of food that Katrina leaves for him go untouched.

A quick glance at the sleek iPhone Jimin had purchased for her a couple days ago, tells her that it’s just shy of seven in the evening. If Jimin keeps to the same pattern he’s been following, then he’ll be back home at around 7:30 to shut himself up in his office to do paperwork for the rest of the night. Taryn grabs the bread and a plate and sets about to make him something that she knows he won’t be able to refuse.

It’s 7:32 when the sound of the front door slamming shut reaches Taryn’s ears as she’s tossing her towel in the dryer to warm it up before her shower. She hates cold towels. Another minute goes by and the phone in her back pocket vibrates twice with a text message. She smiles to herself when she opens the message after seeing it’s from Jimin. It’s a picture of the peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich she’d left on his desk. The two words under the picture expressing his gratitude get tossed to the side as her eyes hone in on the emoji next to them. To anyone else, the kissing emoji isn’t much, but to Taryn it holds weight as this is the closest she’s come so far to getting a kiss from Jimin and dear God does she want to kiss him. His sinfully full lips haunt her every dream but for whatever reason Jimin hasn’t made a single move and part of her doubts that he ever will.

A few days go by and it’s become a habit for Taryn to make Jimin a sandwich and leave it in his office for him. Jimin actually starts to looks forward to going home to the stack of work he has to do. He feels guilty that she goes out of her way to make his favorite sandwich for him while all he offers in return is a thank you text with a stupid emoji.

His ears perk up at the sound of the dryer beeping down the hall. He gets up to peek out of his office door, catching sight of Taryn folding a single towel as she walks away from him towards the stairs. He’d always thought she was just obsessive about doing her laundry, but now that he really thinks about it, he’s never the sound of the washing machine. Only the dryer. He’s even more confused now. Jimin’s brow furrows when he hears the shower in her bathroom turn on. The wheels in his brain are turning at lightning speed as he tries to put two and two together. He smiles to himself as he returns to his desk to make a quick phone call.

Taryn stumbles into her bathroom the next morning with her eyes half closed and her hair going in every direction from all her tossing and turning. She stretches her arms overhead which causes her nightshirt to rise dangerously high up her bare thighs. She’s so out of it that she doesn’t notice the extra presence in her bathroom until she’s already seated on the toilet.

“I’d say this is definitely bringing us closer.” Jimin says on a laugh as Taryn’s eyes fly open with a shriek. He eyes her bare legs lustfully, taking note at the fact that the newly awakened woman in front of him makes no move to try and cover herself after realizing its him in the bathroom in her.

“What are you doing in here?” She asks as she flushes the toilet and walking towards the sink that Jimin is currently leaning against, drill in hand. Part of her hopes that his reason for being in here is romantic in nature even though the power tool he’s holding pretty much tells her it’s not. A girl can still hope though.

His eyes follow every movement of her full hips when she turns to walk back into her room. Jimin’s cock stirs to life at the thought of how good it would feel to give into his desires and finally claim her. The tips of his fingers brush her forearm as he reaches out to do just that when a single word rushes to the forefront of his mind as it often does when he’s close to caving into the mating pull.

Sanmana.

He snatches his hand back like he’s been scalded. Taryn turn to look at him with a raised, questioning eyebrow but he smoothly plays it off as if there was a piece of piece of string on her arm. They both know there wasn’t but she doesn’t press the matter which he’s thankful for.

Jimin clears his throat as he tries to reign in his impure thoughts, following her back into her bedroom. “To answer your question, I was installing a towel warmer.”

Taryn pokes her head out of her walk-in closet that she’d disappeared into with an intrigued look on her face. Jimin explains how he’s noticed that she’s been putting her towels in the dryer for exactly eight minutes every day before her shower and that he wanted to do something nice for her since she’d been making him his favorite sandwich every day. He almost misses the way her smile drops a millimeter at his explanation. He kicks himself for being such a selfish overthinker because he knows that’s what it boils down to at the end of the day but he can’t help himself.

What if someone were to find out what she is? Riots would ensue as people actively seek to see her beautiful light snuffed out. The discomfort he feels of being so near his mate but not being one with her is nothing compared to the absolute torture he’d go through if she was to be brutally ripped away from him like that after completing the bond. What if they had kids? He can’t even bear the thought of someone threatening his child because of what they are. It makes him physically sick to even ponder it. Keeping Taryn at an arm’s length is a necessary evil that he can’t seem to find a solution for. Well, a necessary evil that he’s scared to execute the solution for seeing as how the issue really lies in Jimin’s own selfish fears. He’s scared and he doesn’t know how to stop being scared. As an alpha, it invokes a healthy amount of self-hatred as he was raised to be the source of people’s fear not the frightened pup he’s been dissolving into.

Jimin opens his mouth to respond when a siren blares out, stealing his thunder. Taryn is in awe of him as she witnesses the visible change in his demeanor. In the space of a few seconds, the alpha wolf that resides within him has completely taken over. The word “rogues” is spat out like a curse as he spins on his heel, practically yanking the bedroom door off of its hinges in his haste to leave. Taryn quickly shoves her arms through the sleeves of some random sweatshirt and hops into a pair of leggings before she too is running towards the exit.

The front door of the house hadn’t been as lucky as her bedroom door. The matte black door has been ripped halfway off of its hinges and the knob is nowhere to be found. Taryn quickly forgets the door as she steps out onto the front porch to see madness unfolding all around her. The siren from before still sounds loud and clear above the swell of screams and snarls. She can’t see any rogues from the front porch but the smell of wolves that don’t belong permeates the air around her. She knows that as Luna it’s her responsibility to do something but she’s frozen. Totally overwhelmed by the sheer amount of chaos. She spots Katrina as she dashes down the sidewalk that passes directly in front of Jimin’s house. The older woman is cradling a screaming Kevin to her chest as she desperately tries to escape whatever’s behind her.

Taryn leaps into action when she realizes that that something is a large, silver wolf. Ever since joining the pack, she’s been able to recognize the wolves that belong to her new clan, even the one’s she’s never seen in wolf form before. It’s like a sixth sense that tells her who belongs and who doesn’t. The rogue female bearing down on her friend definitely doesn’t belong.

With a vicious snarl of her own, Taryn leaps off of the porch and shifts mid-air. Her shredded clothing rains down around her as she collides with the trespasser with a sickening crunch of bone beneath her paws. The other wolf is dazed, clearly not expecting to be blindsided like that. Taryn makes quick work of her by sinking her teeth so far into the other wolf’s neck that she scratches her spine. Blood drips from her lips as she sets off in the same direction Katrina had been running.

The cement is no match for Taryn’s claws as she skids to a stop in front of the small primary school. Anger bubbles up within her when she notices the three rogue wolves attempting to breach the building. Her very being is practically vibrating from the growls erupting from her chest. The outsiders share a look amongst each other before apparently deciding that they like the odds of tussling with one wolf.

Taryn readies herself for a fight when a loud burst of thunder interrupts her concentration. The sun is high in the sky with not a cloud in sight so where did that come from. She doesn’t have to wait long for her answer. As she breathes in the air around her, she notices a drastic shift in the scent. That familiar forest smell overtakes her which can only mean one thing. Jimin. Taryn bares her teeth in a wolfy smile at the fear that comes over the rogues in front of her at the sight of her mate coming to a stop by her side.

It vaguely dawns on Taryn that this is the first time she’s seen her mate like this. She’s fascinated to say the least. Jimin’s shorter than average height would lead many to believe that his wolf form is smaller than normal as well. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The midnight black wolf next to her is easily twice her size and Taryn knows that she’s above average size for a female wolf. She finds herself mesmerized by the way his muscular frame moves. It’s almost graceful which is a bit weird considering just how big he is.

A snort brings her back to the situation at hand. Jimin nods his large head towards the rogues who still seem shell-shocked at the size of the wolf before them. Taryn bobs her head once and the two of them leap forward to handle business. Taryn’s jaws are seconds from tearing out the jugular of the third and final rogue when Jimin knocks her down. Still in combat mode, Taryn quickly twists around to regain her footing and snaps at the alpha wolf before her brain can catch up to let her know how horrible that idea is. Her eyes go wide as she realizes her mistake a half second too late.

Jimin is on her faster than she can blink. Taryn isn’t scared by many things but a clearly pissed off alpha standing over her, snapping his teeth just a little too close to her neck has her on the verge of wetting herself. Mate be damned. She bares her neck to him in submission hoping that it placates him. Thankfully, Jimin accepts her surrender and backs away from her, shifting back into his human form. Taryn follows suit after she shakes some of the dirt from her body.

Unlike the humans, werewolves see nudity as a natural part of life. It not unusual for pack members to shift in front of each other and let it all hang out. However, this is the first time Taryn has ever seen Jimin like this and to say the sight of him is making her blood run hot would be an understatement. His physique is muscular with thighs that look strong enough to crack walnuts. She can tell that he spends a lot of time working out. Saliva begins to pool in her mouth when she focuses in on the piece of meat between his taut thighs. In short, he looks like he was crafted out of pure sin and desire.

Jimin is all business as he starts barking orders at Jackson and a few other high ranking members of the guard that Taryn hadn’t even noticed before now. The injured rogue is quickly dragged away and their dead friends are quickly dragged away to god only knows where. Taryn isn’t entirely sure what to do now. She’d halfway expected for Jimin to order her to do something as well. She shifts from foot to foot, arms awkwardly crossed over her bare chest.

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Jimin looks her up and down. The heat in his eyes and the way he pulls his plush bottom lip between his teeth tells her that what he wants her to do is not something that should go down in front of a building full of scared children and their mothers. Taryn opens her mouth to say just that when she’s interrupted a small shout, quickly followed by pattering feet.

“Ryn!” Kevin wraps his small body around her left leg like a tiny koala. Her heart constricts at the trembles still racking his tiny frame when she lifts him into her arms. His mother is telling Jimin something but her eyes dart over to Taryn every few seconds as if to make sure her son is still where she last saw him.

“You’re okay now, buddy. Ryn won’t let anything happen to you.”

* * *

Nearly a week has passed since rogues attacked the pack with absolutely no progress at figuring out why. The one wolf that had been spared isn’t talking and it doesn’t appear that that’s going to change any time soon. Taryn offers to heat things up a little to persuade the bastard into giving up some information but Jimin shuts that down immediately. Jimin assigns Taryn a security guard because, apparently, he actually believes that she would go behind his back to talk to the hostage anyway. He’s right but that doesn’t make her feel any differently about her glorified babysitter.

Taryn and Sariah, her new guard and also the one who had caught her trespassing into pack territory, are currently sat at the kitchen table giving each other death glares as Taryn eats a bowl of cereal. The pack as a whole has finally started to warm up to Taryn ever since she fought off the rogues that had attacked but Sariah was not convinced. She hates Taryn and still thinks that she isn’t to be trusted. Sariah doesn’t care who knows her feelings about the new Luna either and makes sure that her suspicions are known to anyone who will listen. Taryn didn’t exactly blame Sariah for being wary of her. Katrina had given her the rundown not too long after she’d moved in with Jimin. Sariah and Jackson are cousins, hence the former’s position in the pack guard. The story of the rogue attack that had resulted in the death of Jackson’s older brother Matthew explained why Sariah probably couldn’t stand her. Jackson doesn’t go out of his way to taunt and provoke Taryn like Sariah does but Taryn isn’t blind. She can see the wariness in the beta’s eyes the few times she’s been in his presence

Needless to say, Sariah and Taryn are not getting along which is exactly why Jimin picked Sariah to keep his mate out of trouble. He figured that Sariah’s distrust would mean that she wouldn’t let Taryn out of her sight but also that spending so much time together would make Sariah realize that his mate wasn’t all bad. So far, he’s only been correct about the first part but it’s only been two days.

Jimin comes jogging down the stairs, freshly showered, and stops short at the entrance to the kitchen. The two she wolves don’t even acknowledge his presence as they continue to stare holes through each other. If looks could kill they’d both be corpses right now.

“Good-” Jimin’s greeting is cut short when Taryn lifts her eyes to his face. The sheer amount of anger swirling in her gaze nearly knocks Jimin on his ass.

“Don’t you fucking speak in my presence unless it’s to say that I’m free of her.” Taryn spits out. A growl vibrates the air around them but it doesn’t come from Jimin. Surprisingly, Sariah is the one vocalizing her frustrations.

“Show some respect to the alpha.” She demands of her charge despite the fact that Taryn outranks her. Sariah has the edge of the heavy oak table in a death grip, nails leaving half-moon marks in the finish as she tries to restrain herself from leaping across the table. Jimin notices a small spark in Taryn’s eyes that gives him pause. He needs to put a stop to this before it gets even more out of hand.

“Fuck you and fuck him too.” Jimin doesn’t take too kindly to the disrespect. If it was anyone else, he would make them pay for such a comment, but even his wolf can sense that Taryn is a literal firecracker on the verge of exploding if he doesn’t tread lightly. The last thing he needs is for her to lose her cool and do something they’ll both regret. He’s starting to think that his goals behind picking Sariah to guard Taryn isn’t worth this headache. He instantly tries to jump in to play peacemaker but he’s not quick enough.

Sariah launches herself at Taryn faster than Jimin can blink. Taryn, however, was ready for her, smashing her would be attacker in the face with her glass bowl of cereal. The glass shatters against Sariah’s forehead and leaves her dazed as she rolls from the table to the floor, cradling her head. Taryn stands from the table and looks Jimin square in the eye as she walks around Sariah’s writhing figure. She aggressively shoulders past him on her way to the stairs.

Jimin is conflicted on what to do. Does he stay in the kitchen to help Sariah or does he go upstairs to talk to his mate? His heart doesn’t seem to be having the same dilemma as he feels the pull to follow behind Taryn. He worries his bottom lip as he stands in the kitchen like a deer in headlights trying to figure out what to do. He takes a step backwards towards the stairs when there’s a barrage of frantic banging on the front door.

The petty situation between Sariah and Taryn is tossed to the backburner as his keen senses pick up on Jackson’s scent. It’s got a coppery edge to it that’s normally not there as if the beta is doused in blood. The new door protests when Jimin flings it open to see Jackson liberally coated in blood and visibly upset. Jimin quickly ushers him inside

Sariah is picking herself up from the linoleum when Jimin leads Jackson to the kitchen table to sit down before his trembling legs give out on him. He pours him a glass of ice water but he doesn’t touch it or even acknowledge that it’s there when Jimin sets it in front of him before taking a seat to his right. Jackson’s gaze is unfocused. Nearly all light drained from his eyes as he tells Jimin what he discovered this morning.

Jackson is unmated and totally devoted to the pack. As such, he often times forgets to stop and eat just like Jimin does so Katrina had taken it upon herself to make sure that he stayed fed as well since his own parents spent most of their time travelling these days. Every morning at 7 o’clock, Jackson would be knocking on the door of the Tran residence for breakfast or risk incurring the infamous wrath of Mrs. Katrina Tran for not taking care of himself.

This morning when he stepped up to the door, it had been ajar. David, Katrina’s husband, is a stickler for security so there’s no way that he accidentally left the door open like this. Jackson cautiously pushes the door open to see the house is still cloaked in darkness. That’s red flag number two. Breakfast is served at 7:15am sharp in the Tran residence so the small brick house should be completely lit up and humming with activity and the sound of Kevin’s toys by now.

“Katrina? David?” He calls out but there’s no answer. He takes a deep breath and that’s when he smells it. The air reeks of rogue wolf and the foul stench of death.

A knot forms in his throat as he slowly climbs the stairs near the door. He’s terrified of what could possibly await him. The entire upstairs part of the house looks like a war zone. The floor is littered with glass from broken picture frames and dirt from Katrina’s prized potted plants. Jackson can smell coppery scent of blood more strongly now and he resigns himself to the fact that his friends are most likely no longer with them. A choked sob slips out of his mouth but he fights off his emotions. He can’t afford to break down just yet.

He finds David first. The hulking man is a bloody mess outside his son’s bedroom door. The gaping hole in his chest suggests that his heart has quite literally been ripped out of him. There are deep gouge marks covering most of his skin. It’s all he can do to choke back the bile rising in his throat. Jackson has never been particularly religious but he finds himself making a cross across his body before reaching down to carefully close his friend’s unseeing eyes. He finds Katrina sprawled across her son’s racecar bed with a hole in her chest that matches her husband. Her fingers are twisted up as if she had been desperately clinging to something when she was killed.

Jackson is relieved to not see Kevin’s body next to his mother, but where is he? No space in the house goes unchecked as Jackson does his best to find the four year old. Kevin is nowhere to be found. Jackson doesn’t know whether to be relieved or sick. His friends are dead but their son could still be alive and he clings to that possibility as he runs through town to get to Jimin’s house.

Jimin curses when Jackson finishes his story, shooting out of his chair. Sariah is quietly sobbing at the loss of two dear friends and pack members. All of the commotion sends Taryn flying back downstairs demanding to know what’s going on. Jimin’s throat feels like it’s going to close up as his emotions begin to get the best of him. Taryn doesn’t think twice as she pulls Jimin into her smaller frame. She still isn’t sure what’s going on but she knows it can’t be good for him to be showing this kind of emotion. Jimin’s broad shoulders shake from the sobs racking his body. Taryn looks to her left to see Jackson in a similar position with Sariah. She reaches out to rub the beta’s back soothingly. She pats Sariah’s hand awkwardly. The other she-wolf surprises her when she latches on to Taryn’s hand, taking advantage of the gesture.

It’s a few minutes until Jimin pulls himself together enough to tell Taryn what’s happened. She desperately wishes that the ground would open up and swallow her whole in that moment. Katrina Tran was the only real friend that Taryn had in the pack and now she’s gone. She’d never met her husband David but her heart hurts for him too. Most of all, she aches for Kevin. At only four years old, he is now alone in this world and Taryn knows the pain of having your parents violently ripped from you all too well. The thought of Kevin being out there in the woods somewhere scared and alone makes Taryn physically ill as she runs to the kitchen sink losing the contents of her stomach.

Taryn is glued to Jimin’s side as he calls an emergency pack meeting to announce what has happened. There isn’t a dry eye in the room when everyone learns of the tragic loss. Katrina and David were kind souls that impacted everyone they encountered. For them to be targeted like this in what appeared to be another random rogue attack doesn’t make sense. Taryn has been perplexed by it all day. Why the Tran family? Her mind goes back to the way that rogue had been chasing down Katrina. She’d originally thought that she’d been a target of opportunity but what if she wasn’t?

Jimin is busy consoling people when Taryn makes herself scarce. She has a plan but she knows that Jimin would never approve of what she intends to do which is exactly why she has to do it now. She suppresses a groan when Sariah calls out her name behind her.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The wary guard asks, arms crossed across her chest as she approaches Taryn.

“Going to get some answers.” Taryn knows that Sariah is either going to tag along or alert Jimin. It’s not ideal given what she’s got planned but it’s better than her mate locking her in her room like a hostage to keep her from doing it.

Sariah stares through Taryn for what seems like an eternity before motion towards the door and following into step next to her. The pack guard is confused when she realizes that Taryn is headed for the dungeon at the edge of town but she says nothing.

“Listen,” Taryn starts, pausing at the entrance to the pack prison. Her eyes are trained straight ahead but she knows Sariah well enough to be able to interpret the other woman’s silence as her giving Taryn her attention. “I know you don’t like me and frankly I don’t like you that much either but just know that everything I’m about to do is to get justice for the Trans.” Taryn finally turns to look over her shoulder at her companion.

“I’m sure you know the story behind how my cousin Matthew was killed so naturally I don’t trust rogues which means I don’t trust you. However, I’m willing to look past that for the sake of getting revenge for my friends.” Sariah’s jaw is set in determination. Eyes flashing gold as she fights to retain control over her wolf. She nods once. Fists opening and closing as she follows Taryn into the dungeon.

The door slams shut behind them. Dust particles dance through the rays of light streaming through the air ventilation slats near the ceiling. The sole occupant of the stone structure looks up from where he sits in a corner of his cell. One of his eyes is swollen shut and the other doesn’t look like it’s far from it. His cuffed hands lay limply at this sides. He’s been worked over pretty good and yet he still grins wickedly at the two women before him.

“I’m ready for my sponge bath, nurse.” He cackles wildly before leaning over to spit some blood out of his mouth. Sariah wrinkles her nose in distaste when a tooth comes flying out of his mouth.

Taryn reaches into her bra for the key she’d swiped from Jimin’s key ring while he was in the shower last night. She’d never been more thankful for his forgetfulness than she had been in that moment because the key she needed had been helpfully label with the word dungeon. She swings the cell door open wide, moving to crouch down in front of her prey.

“I know you know something, fucker. This is your last chance to tell me before you lose your tongue.” Taryn snarled through gritted teeth. She could feel her body temperature rising but the fool in front of her is too arrogant to even realize the grave danger he’s in. He laughs in her face. A full-fledged belly laugh.

“I told that pup you call an alpha that holding here wouldn’t go over well.” The straggly asshole taunted. Sariah, not one to let people disrespect her leader, immediately steps forward with a growl. Taryn stops her in her tracks with a raised hand and a whispered command to stop. Surprising even herself.

“Things are about to change for us werewolves, sweet cheeks. Just you wait.” Taryn’s eyebrows raise in question. It occurs to her that the rogue’s own arrogance is about to be his own downfall. He’s so sure that the two women in front of him can’t do anything to him that he’s becoming a wealth of information.

“Is that so? I love change.” Taryn says, drawing the idiot before her deeper into her trap. Sariah finally seems to catch on to the game plan as the near constant growls that had been bubbling out of her throat dwindle down to nothing.

“Packs are about to be a thing of the past. Wolves can live amongst each other without this stupid hierarchy. Hell, we’ve been living right under your noses to the east and you fuckers haven’t even noticed.” The rogue announces proudly. It’s not until he takes notice of the evil smile that spreads across Taryn’s face that he realizes that he may have said too much.

“Thank you so much for that information.” Taryn begins. She delicately lays a hand on the rogue’s bare and battered chest directly over his now racing heart. “When you get where you’re going, make sure you tell everyone that David, Katrina, and Kevin Tran are the reason you’re there.”

The rancid smell of burning flesh permeates the air as Taryn’s forearm erupts in white-hot hellfire. Her fist slowly sinks into the rogue’s chest cavity like a warm knife in butter. Sariah, having gotten over the initial shock of what’s happening in front of her, leaps forward to pin the man’s flailing limbs to the stone floor as best as she can. His pained shrieks are like music to Taryn’s ears as she purposefully moves slowly to maximize his pain. Her fist eventually closes around his heart. The muscle shrivels in her fiery grasp as she crushes it. Tears flow freely down Taryn’s face as she thinks about everything she’s lost in her life. Her parents. Katrina. Kevin. She’s reached her limit with loss and it’s time someone pays for it.

Taryn yanks her arm from the rogue’s chest cavity with a shout belying the emotional anguish flowing through her. Her body temperature begins to regulate itself as her arm returns to normal. She backs away from the smoking carcass until her back hits stone. Sariah rises to her feet, dusting herself off. She approaches Taryn slowly like the other woman could burst into flames at any second if she moves too quickly.

“You’re Sanmana?” Sariah questions just to hear the words for herself. Taryn nods slowly with a soft yes.

Sariah had always thought that wolves like Taryn were urban legend having never personally seen one. Despite not having met a Sanmana, she knew that pissing them off is something one should steer clear of to avoid ending up as a pile of ashes. Yet, Sariah has to admit that she’s never seen Taryn use her abilities against the pack for the entire she’s been here and Sariah herself knows that she’s pushed the new Luna further than anyone.

“So, what do we do now?” The guard ponders out loud. Taryn wipes furiously at her face, trying to pull herself together.

“Now, we go to war.” She declares. She gives the slain one rogue one final look of disdain before turning on her heel to exist the dungeon.

Taryn reaches her hand out to let her hand pass through the flames of the lit torches along the wall as she makes her way towards the door. Fire had always been a source of strength and comfort for her. Not surprising given her lineage. Now, more than ever before, she seeks out that strength as she prepares herself for what she’s about to do. She’d promised Jimin when he’d first allowed her stay that there would be no village burning but that’s looking more and more like a promise she won’t be keeping.

* * *

Taryn and Sariah crouch behind a thick section of brush to survey the rogue encampment about two hundred feet in front of them. It’s a few small cabins that look like they could each house about four to five wolves comfortably. They’re all built around a clearing where there are some tents situated around a fire pit. The prisoner Taryn had killed wasn’t lying when he said that he wasn’t alone.

There are at least 15 wolves working to construct a large barn-like structure. The two she-wolves wrinkle their noses at nearly the same time as they’re assaulted by a barrage of different scents. Hardly any of the rogues smell the same. All of the wolves in an established pack smell slightly different but everyone has one underlying note in their scent that is the same from wolf to wolf. That doesn’t appear to be the case here and yet everyone seems to be friendly with each other as if they are a family. Taryn lets her eyes drift shut to enhance her focus as she desperately tries to sniff for that light citrusy smell that is indicative of her own pack.

She nearly sobs with glee when she finally picks up on the smell she was looking for. It’s fain and nearly totally overwhelmed by all of the other smells in the area, but it’s there. Kevin is here somewhere. Sariah noses at the clothes tied around Taryn’s ankle to indicate that they should shift back to human. That’s exactly what they’ve done when the smell of fresh rain and oranges washes over Taryn.

Jimin.

The alpha wolf emerges from behind a tree absolutely bristling with anger. He shifts back as well when he notices that Taryn and Sariah are both in human form. Taryn allows herself to be dragged by the wrist deeper into the forest to prevent giving their position away.

“Explain yourselves. Now.” Jimin demands when he feels they’re far enough away. Sariah and Taryn share a glance before looking back to Jimin, staying silent. “One of you better start talking right now so help me God.”

Taryn narrows her eyes in anger at Jimin’s use of the alpha command. Sariah, unable to resist, immediately tells everything she knows. Jimin’s eyes remain focused in on his mate as his trusted guard spills her guts on the forest floor. Taryn avoids eye contact and instead watches Jimin’s chest and ears grow a furious red with every new detail that he learns.

“Taryn, are you fucking stupid?” Jimin is starting shake from the strength of his anger. “You could’ve gotten you and Sariah killed.”

Taryn can’t help but roll her eyes. She’s had more than enough of Jimin treating her like some errant child he was put in charge of. “Why the fuck do you even care? We might be mates but I know damn well you don’t love me so why does it matter if I die trying to avenge the one friend I had?”

“I’m just gonna go stand over-…yeah bye.” Sariah quickly makes herself scarce so as not to intrude on what is obviously a private moment.

“Why would you say that?” Jimin’s question comes out in a strained whisper. His heart feels like it’s cracking in advance of the rejection he feels is sure to come.

“Because it’s true. You tolerate me out of some weird obligation but you don’t love me and if I was stronger I would reject you right now just so you can go be free but no. I’m stuck on the possibility that maybe one day you could-” Taryn’s angry tirade is cut short by Jimin’s lips covering hers in a kiss that’s borderline brutal.

She freezes from the shock. Jimin slowly walks her backwards until her back rests against a nearby tree. He groans deep in his throat when Taryn finally starts to respond to him. His hands are everywhere, indecisive about what part of her he wants to touch first. Tentatively her hands come up to encircle Jimin’s neck as she pulls him in even closer. Her lungs are burning from lack of oxygen but she doesn’t care. She’ll gladly die if it means this moment doesn’t have to end.

A whimper falls from her lips when Jimin pulls away from her. She becomes aware of the tears that she hadn’t even realized were falling when Jimin gently wipes her damp cheeks. His own eyes are watering but his own pride refuses to let them fall.

“I do love you, Taryn.” Jimin whispers against her forehead after planting a soft kiss against her pretty brown skin. “I was scared. I still am. There are people out there that think you shouldn’t be allowed to exist and I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it if someone tried to take you away from me. What if we have kids? Would people come after them too? I don’t know what I-”

Taryn shuts him up just as he done to her minutes earlier. This time though the kiss is slower as she caresses his pillow soft lips with her own.

“Is this really what’s been bothering you this whole time?” Taryn questions with a soft tone as Jimin shyly avoids her gaze. He nods once in affirmation to her query, hiding his face in the crook of her neck out of embarrassment. She reaches up to run her fingers through the silky strands of black hair that cover his head.

“I was so scared when I went to the dungeon to ask the rogue more questions and found him still smoking.” Jimin mumbles against her skin. She shivers every time his lips graze the sensitive skin of her neck. “I figured you might’ve tried to run away which is how I picked up your scent in the woods.”

“I’m glad you came after me but right now we need to save, Kevin.” Jimin forces himself to release his hold on Taryn but the second he does he instantly misses the warmth of her body against his. Jimin takes Taryn’s spot leaning against the tree and waits for her to return with Sariah. Together the three of them form a quick plan of attack then set off to put it into action.

* * *

Taryn’s heart is racing a mile a minute as she waits up on a hill for the party to get started. From her vantage point, she has a clear view of the rogue encampment. Her fingers sink into the soil in anticipation. It’s not much longer before she hears that familiar thunderous roar as Jimin leaps into the clearing. Chaos ensues immediately as the rogues hurriedly shift to defend themselves. Seconds later Sariah bursts onto the scene from the opposite direction. Wolves that they hadn’t seen previously emerge from the tents and cabins. Taryn watches carefully for any sign of Kevin. Just when she’s about to give up and shift to join her mate and Sariah in the fray, a slim redhead emerges from a tent with an unconscious Kevin cradled in her arms. The woman looks around before running in the opposite direction of all the fighting, right towards Taryn’s hiding place.

The fleeing she-wolf stops in her tracks when she spots Taryn. Her face is twisted up in an ugly smile that makes her look more like a demon than a woman. The vibrant curls framing her face look like the flames that Taryn is itching to invoke. She laughs mirthlessly as Taryn slowly advances on her.

“Take one more step and I’ll kill him.” It’s Taryn’s turn to freeze as she watches the woman’s nail lengthen into claws.

��I saw you that day when you assholes took my mate from me.” The bitch drags one of her claws down Kevin’s angelic face, drawing blood. Taryn’s muscles burn with the effort it takes to keep from launching herself at the woman in front of her. “I knew that I would need a bargaining chip to get him back so I took the chance that this little boy matters. Looks like I was right.”

The woman looks deranged. Something in her eyes is off and not in a good way. She looks like she’s lost all access to her sense of morality. Kevin stirs in her arms, distracting her and Taryn takes her chance.

Taryn knows that some Sanmana wolves have been known to throw fire. Her own father had been able to do it but hadn’t gotten around to teaching his daughter before being killed and despite years of trying to teach herself, Taryn’s never been able to do it. In that moment, though, she can almost hear her father in her ear, instructing her, guiding her. Kevin’s captor looks back up in time to get a face full of flames as Taryn blasts her with everything she’s got. The redhead drops Kevin with a shriek. Taryn moves quickly to get the small boy out of harm’s way before ripping the woman’s heart out of her chest and crushing it just as she’d done with her mate.

Kevin is pressed protectively to her chest as Taryn runs full speed towards the encampment. Jimin and Sariah are both fierce warriors in terms of combat so she expected them to be able to hold their own while she was saving Kevin. The two wolves have been backed up against the side of a cabin and the eight or so wolves that are left are attacking them from every available angle. Blood is flowing profusely from a deep wound on Jimin’s side and Taryn knows it’s only a matter of time before her mate and Sariah are taken down. She’s finally gotten the man picked by fate as her other half to admit his feelings for her and there’s no way in hell she’s losing him like she’s lost everyone else in her life.

Once again, Taryn sets Kevin on the ground out of harm’s way behind a large boulder. When she straightens flames lick at her skin as she feels a warm wave of heat wash over. A vicious war cry escapes her lips as she runs towards the group of wolves. The stench of burning fur and flesh blends in the with pained lupine yelps as burst of flames fly from Taryn’s finger tips. They try to escape but it’s futile as she reaches out to them with her newfound ability.

Jimin collapses as his shaky legs can no longer hold him up. One of the rogues had gotten a lucky shot in and opened up a large gash along his torso. It hurts like hell but watching the human flame that is his mate dole out her own brand of punishment makes the pain bearable. He panics when his vision starts fading but despite his best efforts his eye lids shut.

* * *

Jimin awakes with a start, wincing from the sharp sting in his side. He relaxes some when he realizes that he’s in his own bed. He has no idea how he got here but he can worry about that later. The angry gash in his side has already closed up but the jagged mark still hurts like a bitch. He sucks in a deep breath as the wound protests his movement when he heaves himself out of bed. The sound of Taryn singing to herself as she moves around downstairs makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He props himself up against the refrigerator. He can’t help but grin as he watches his mate twirl around the kitchen as she makes a sandwich. She’s in her pajamas singing along to whatever song is playing through your headphones. She’s yet to acknowledge his presence and Jimin is thankful for that. He doesn’t get to see her like this. Carefree and vulnerable.

“Hello, Jimin.” Taryn interrupts his sappy thoughts with a greeting though she’s yet to actually look at him. She pulls one of her headphones out of her ear, letting it dangle as she chops up a banana.

“How did you even know I was here?” He ponders out loud.

“I can smell you.” Taryn explains as she finishes up the sandwich she was making and slides it across the island that separates the two of them. “You’re probably starving. You’ve been knocked out for nearly 24 hours.” As if on cue, Jimin’s stomach rumbles loudly.

“Looks good, but what if I told you I wasn’t hungry for food?” Jimin reaches across the counter to lightly run a finger down the back of Taryn’s hand. He doesn’t miss the shiver that races through her at his touch.

“I’d tell you that you need to relax and let that ugly ass wound heal.” Taryn pulls her hand away from Jimin but he’s not letting her get away that easy. He makes his way around the island, backing her up into a corner until he’s got her caged in.

Taryn can’t find it in her to be embarrassed when Jimin nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. The feeling of his soft lips against her skin is unbelievable. She smooths her hands down his bare torso until she reaches the waistband of his grey sweatpants, using the elastic to pull him in closer. The action triggers a groan deep in Jimin’s throat. His hands glide down her back, pausing to squeeze the plump globe of her ass, before moving further to lift her up by the backs of her thighs. A gasp falls from Taryn’s lips at being lifted in the air.

She wraps her arms and legs around him. Jimin revels in the feel of his lips against hers as he carries her upstairs to his room. Well, their room now. He carefully lays her out across his mattress. He does his best not to crush her but Taryn yanks him down so that the length of his body is pressed against her. She wastes no time reconnecting her lips with his as Jimin’s hands greedily roam the landscape of her curvy figure. Taryn’s always been aware that she carried a few extra pounds on her frame but Jimin looks like he wants to devour her which makes her beam with joy. Jimin makes quick work of her clothes until she’s totally bare beneath him.

“Fuck I’m an idiot.” He mumbles out around the hardened nipple he’s sucked into his mouth.

“You’re my idiot so I guess I’m okay with it.” Taryn replies breathily. Her words end in a moan when the vibrations from Jimin’s subsequent laughter send shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

Her breath hitches when Jimin kisses his way further down her body. He presses soft kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. When he flattens his tongue against her, licking a broad strip up the length of her wet core, Taryn nearly forgets her own name. She grips the sheets in her fists as Jimin continues his assault by flicking his tongue over her clit. He sucks the taut bud into his mouth at the same time as he sinks two fingers inside her. Stars dance behind her eyelids when he flicks them upwards in a come hither motion, finding that special spot with expert accuracy.

She’s running head first into an orgasm when Jimin pulls away. He grabs one of the extra pillows in his bed and slides it underneath her hips. Taryn is confused but she trusts Jimin so she goes along with it. The mischievous grin on his face gives her pause but the way he proceeds to eating her out like his last meal sends her cares flying out the window. She latches on to his hair as she does her best not to suffocate him with her thighs.

“Wait, Jimin stop. I have to pee.” She whimpers out but Jimin keeps right on going as if he hasn’t heard her at all.

The pressure in her abdomen rises just as fast as her distress levels. Jimin refuses to budge from his place between her legs. If anything, he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of her with more ferocity than before. She chants his name but she’s not sure if it’s to get him to stop or for him to give her more. She’s lost in a sea of pleasure and the waves are threatening to take her under. With one final plea for mercy, she falls apart.

Black spots cloud her vision. Her back arches obscenely. Tears leak from her eyes at the force of it all. Her orgasm washes over in powerful waves that seemingly have no end. She can vaguely feel Jimin’s finger plunging in and out of her at a slower rate to prolong her climax. It seems like an eternity has gone by before she comes down from her high.

Jimin’s face is practically dripping with her release when he frees himself from the stronghold her thighs had on his head. She’s never squirted before but one look at him and she knows that’s exactly what she’s done. Taryn averts her gaze out of embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy.

“Hey look at me.” Jimin calls softly from his spot between her outstretched legs. He waits patiently for her to obey before he continues. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Don’t be embarrassed.” She nods her head in understanding but she’s not totally convinced.

A fresh gush of arousal leaks out of her when Jimin pops each of his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. He moans as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Taryn’s tongue slides out to wet her bottom lip at the sight. It’s then she notices that Jimin is still in his sweatpants which are tented around the sizable erection that they’re struggling to contain. That’ll never do. She happens to know that he has on nothing but those sweatpants considering that she’s the one that put them on him in the first place.

Jimin is still on his knees between her legs so she sits up so that she’s eye level with his chest. His head falls back when she flicks her tongue against one of his nipples. He sighs with relief when she slowly pulls his sweatpants down past his ass, freeing him. He lifts each knee so she can help him push them down further until he’s able to kick off completely. Jimin is excited to feel his mate’s full lips sliding up and down his cock but the second she wraps her slender fingers he knows that can’t happen. He won’t last more than a minute if she sucks him off and his refraction time has always been shit.

“I need to be inside you right now. Please.” Jimin pleads. His heart nearly stops beating in his chest when Taryn pretends to ponder the idea.

Jimin’s mouth waters with delight when she rolls over on her stomach, poking her pretty, little ass up in the air like a good bitch. He’s on her in an instant. His hands reach around to palm her full breasts, rolling both of her nipples between his fingers. The moans and whimpers falling from her lips could rival a choir of angels in Jimin’s opinion.

He pushes one of her ass cheeks to the side to give himself a clear view of her glistening entrance. She begs him to stop being such an awful tease as he slides the head of his cock through her slick folds, bumping her clit on each pass. Jimin slowly pushes forward until each inch is surrounded by her tight sheath. Both of them sigh in relief at finally being joined.

“So big.” Taryn groans as she pushes her backside firmly against Jimin’s torso in an effort to get even closer to him.

Jimin pulls his hips back only to thrust back in roughly. He does that a few more times before letting loose. His hands have a death grip on her hips as he plows into her from behind. The sound of his hips smacking into her ass can probably be heard miles away. He can feel that familiar tightening in his balls so he slows his pace. He moves his hands from Taryn’s hips to her ass. Jimin is mesmerized by the way it jiggles when he gives it an experimental smack. The loud moan that reverberates around the room indicates that Taryn is most definitely on board but another thought comes to his mind.

He continues to thrust shallowly as he spreads her ass cheeks apart once more. The puckered hole of her back entrance teases him. Almost as if it’s calling his name. Taryn shivers when lets a string of saliva fall onto the tight ring of muscle. He picks up his pace again, slamming into her, but this time he massages his thumb against her other entrance. Curses fall from his lips when she tightens her inner muscles around him like a vice at the unfamiliar, yet pleasurable, sensation.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum.” She wails.

Jimin pulls out of her and flips her onto her back before plunging back inside. She’s knows what’s on the horizon as she can feel her canines start to lengthen just like his appear to be. He slides his hand down her sweaty torso to rub figure eights in her engorged clit. It’s like he’s flipped the switch on her orgasm as she starts to convulse around him. Jimin surges forward and sinks his teeth into her skin right at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He licks at the mark to collect the few drops of blood that seep from her skin. Half a dozen strokes later and Jimin meets his own end. His chest vibrates with a possessive growl at the feeling of Taryn marking his skin. His chest feels like it’s going to burst with the feelings that he has for her. Jimin is sure that she’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now in this moment. Sweaty. Tired. His. He was a fool for waiting so long to take this step but he knows he’ll never be that dumb again. Taryn is his just as he is hers. Sanmana gene be damned.

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