#female detective x adam du mortain

[ellenembee]

Thinking about Detective Ophelia "1% people" Maven, who rarely smiles or shows much emotion (like mother, like daughter), gradually opening up to Adam once his initial sour attitude melts away. In the spaces that remain, she finds he is earnest and serious in the same ways she is, if not for the same reasons, and she finds comfort in it. Because he is like her. Because their pieces fit together.

Thinking about Ophelia gradually smiling more in his presence - only when it's the two of them, of course. It starts out small with a slight uptick at the corner of her mouth. Then a small smile that flashes then fades. Then, finally, a full smile, sincere and excited. (It's the car that does it (God, she loves classic cars.))

Thinking about her accidental slide into a love triangle, with Nate being the only one she liked when they first met, the one who ignited that unfortunate spark she tried so hard to deny. But Adam, once his brashness faded into safe mundanity, once he accepted her as a member of his team, became an anchor in the storm. A safe haven amid the chaos. He doesn't push her boundaries or say those uncomfortably emotional things that make her insides crawl.

Thinking about Nate hearing the rarest of sounds - Ophelia's laughter - faintly from a distance and following it to find Ophelia and Adam sitting on the living room couch together, each on opposite ends but their bodies turned toward each other, heads leaning inward, bright smiles on their faces as Ophelia tells a story from her youth - the same youth she'd told Nate she didn't want to talk about. It's not a raucous joy that lights their faces. It's quiet. Understated. But it cuts deep and to the quick. Because Nate has never made her smile like that, has never even seen her smile like that. And though he vows to earn that smile, the trickle of dread has reached levels deep enough to drown in. And he surely hates deep waters.

Thinking about Ophelia trying to walk away from both of them, only to keep being pulled into their orbits. Of wishing she could. Just. Stop. Feeling. At least she had never let her guard down, always sliding out of those tense moments before anything could happen. She'd never promised either of them anything - no kisses or dates and certainly no relationships. It would be better for everyone if it all just stopped.

And yet the smiles keep coming, as does the heartbreak.

[ladiemars]

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕤 ⟡ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

the wayhaven chronicles | adam du mortain x female detective (frankie fairbanks) | 5961 words | rated e

synopsis: after accidentally triggering a latent spell during one of their investigations, adam and frankie find themselves dealing with the unfortunate side effects.

When she was younger, Frankie liked to imagine what it would be like to live through something extraordinary. It had seemed like an exciting prospect at the time, all the potential challenges she might face.

But she hadn’t ever imagined it would be something like this. Having a big red target painted on her back in her own mutated blood.

Now, extraordinary didn’t seem so great.

In fact, it kind of fucking blew.

Frankie avoided her splotchy reflection in the mirror as she stepped out of Adam’s shower, wet hair plastered to the sides of her face. She didn’t want to know what she looked like. The answer was bruised, probably. Her muscles ached and her throat was tender and her skin was bruised.

Her head, though, was surprisingly fine.

And quiet.

keep reading on ao3

[roguelioness]

Five years ago, Nikita Batra failed to catch a killer. Leaving her failure behind in Spofford, she’s worked hard to forge a new life for herself. Now the killer has returned - and has an unhealthy fixation on her.

She’s older now, and wiser - will she be able to finally put her past to rest?

Chapter 5 - Waiting for the rain to fall

Adam’s trying very hard to remain calm.

He stares out of the window of the meeting room, waiting for Agent Batra to arrive. The view is bleak - dismal, dull skies are heavily covered with thick grey clouds. The light drifting towards him is muted and subdued, more so than usual.

Mason’s playing with his lighter again, a constant click-click-click, the sound incessant and incredibly irritating.  He presses his lips together to avoid lashing out. Nate’s pacing up and down, the force of his worry a physical thing, one that hits Adam over and over again, eroding that hole of fear to a bottomless cavern. Felix is unusually quiet, drumming his fingers on the arm of whatever chair he’s sitting on, his features somber in a way that’s rather jarring.

There’s one presence - or absence of a presence - that fills the room, heavy and dense.

[Read on AO3] [Start from the beginning]

[nagia-pronounced-neijia]

Bloodless Pangs

`The fourth stands by the window, tall and broad and much too pale. He half-turns, finally looking away from the town.

"This is your Special Investigator?" He speaks in nearly textbook-perfect received pronunciation, with just the faintest hint of nasality to his vowels.

Mayor Friedman smiles and nods frantically. "Yes, the other one had to retire after some of the livestock — well. It got out of hand. But I'm confident we'll get this one trained up." He casts her a desperate look.

She smiles in precisely the way her mother taught her as a teenager: tilted head, dimpled cheek, crinkled eyes, no teeth. "My father had the privilege of serving as the Lord Mayor's Special Investigator some thirty years ago, before giving his life in service of the Empire. I can only hope to follow in his excellent footsteps."

Chapter 1 of ??? // Available at AO3.

Content Warning:  Please read the tags here and at AO3; this is a work of iddy dystopian fanfiction.

[shannaraisles]

For @spiffing.

At long last, Adam and the detective go all the way.

Excerpt -

“Are you certain?”

Three simple words. Words that had been far too long in the saying, but words that were still needed in this moment. Even after all this time, after so many wishes spoken aloud only to be denied, so many kisses stolen swiftly just to see his skin darken in a rosy flush, you feel yet another part of yourself melt at this new moment of uncertainty in Adam du Mortain.

Even now, pressed close together amid the disarray of bedsheets, guaranteed privacy by the simple fact that Nate encouraged Felix to take the rest of them out for the evening, his fear is given a moment of free rein. But only a moment, soothed away by the grip of your hands in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, the breathless arch of your neck, lips seeking his once again to taste the near shy curve of his rare smile. His hand slides from your ribs to your hip, and still lower with a jerk of motion that has your thigh hooked at his waist, dull flames roaring through your veins with the anticipation of ... everything. Not a single patch of unprofessional skin is uncovered, and yet you feel you might implode with just one more of these soft, demanding kisses. The man is the walking epitome of the slowburn trope; even when kisses, touches, longing warmth shared is undeniably on the cards, he still needs to hear you say it.

Your name falls tenderly from his lips, ghosting against the curve of your jaw before green eyes lift to yours, so intense, so focused, that you feel your head start to spin just from the power of his attention.

“Tell me,” he whispers, and there is the quiet desperation, the need to be certain ... to know that you are certain.

[READ on AO3]

[kittlesandbugs]

SPOILERS FOR BOOK 3 DEMO.

Rating: G Pairing: Nate Sewell/Female Detective, Adam du Mortain & Female Detective Description: The detective retreats to the training room after fighting with Nate.  Adam stops by for a chat.

Tagging @gryffindordaughterofathena​ by request.

Padded fists strike the training dummy in a staccato that echoes through the training hall. Beams of moonlight drifting in around the trees outside offer minimum illumination, but she doesn't need any more than that. There's just her. The dummy. And her fucking thoughts she's trying to pound out with every strike.

She isn't made of glass. And the fact that he tries to protect her as such galls in ways she can't find the words for.

She switches to kicks and damn near knocks the dummy from its stand. She's stronger, faster than she's ever been, even at her supposed physical peak at the training academy. So why can't he trust her to keep herself safe? To keep herself alive?

Against supernaturals is one thing. Even with the power of her blood, she can't stand toe-to-toe with them. She knows that. She accepts that. But she can handle humans. She's always been able to handle humans. Training with supernaturals has made dealing with humans almost simple aside from numbers games. But they've trained for that too.

Back to fists, she strikes the solar plexus, throat, draws back and punches the dummy as hard as she can square in the nose. It teeters wildly before finally crashing down. If she wasn't so fucking exhausted by everything, she might have cared about the noise.

The echo fades and all that's left is her own harsh breathing. She sinks down onto the mats, splaying haphazardly in a mirror image of the dummy she'd conquered.

"He meant well."

She peels the gloves off and drags her sweat soaked bangs back from her face

"... I know."

Adam's bare feet creak on the mats as he pads over to her corner. He picks up the dummy, sets it back in its proper place.

"It scares him."

"What, me wanting to fight? To protect myself?"

Adam stares down at her with his icy green eyes and rolls them. "The thought of losing you."

He says it like it's obvious. And it is. She just doesn't want to think about it.

She scoffs it away. "Does he not think I feel the same way?"

"It is difficult to consider our own mortality," Adam concedes as he sinks down cross-legged beside her. "Especially when compared to the mortality of a human."

She frowns at him. "I'm not helpless. You've made sure of that."

"I have done my best. You did very well against the Trappers." His lips cant in a smirk, and she doesn't miss the glint of pride in his eyes that creates a swell in her as well.

His gaze turns serious again. "He's not able to be objective anymore to the thought of you in danger. And neither are you with him. What did you think you would accomplish, striking the annunaki like that?"

"I wasn't thinking," she admits with a sigh. "I was terrified, stressed out, and after he struck Nate like… I just… I lost it."

He nods. "And you don't think it was the same for him, suddenly faced with a horde of Trappers determined to take you from us?"

Her mind flashes to his face, near breaking as he leaves her behind in the trees.

"Quinn, I—"

Her breath hitches in her throat and she swipes a hand across her face as tears she'd been damming finally break through. The fight with Nate sours her gut, bile rising when she thinks about it. Thinks about the words knotted in his throat. It's too much on top of everything else, and she can't even begin to reconcile with him when she's so overwhelmed. Can't bear to say the wrong thing, to make it worse.

He says nothing, a stoic presence that's somehow comforting just by being there. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder, heavy, grounding. She's grateful for it and his quiet as too much raw emotion leaks from her.

"... I'm scared, Adam," she says finally as the tears slow and she wipes them away.

His fingers tangle with her hand and he gives it a squeeze. "I know."

She holds on desperately to the offered comfort. "Not just for me. For Nate. For you. The whole team. This… this mess. It isn't going to go away."

"It isn't. It will likely get worse." His agreement sends a shudder through her. "But we are a team. We will draw strength from each other, and do what we must to get through this."

"You are strong, Quinn. Don't ever forget that," he says and pulls her to her feet as he rises. "But don't let it blind you to the fact that you are still human. And with that comes risks that cannot be ignored no matter how much you wish otherwise."

He pats her shoulder and leaves her standing in the training hall, alone once again.

She pulls a towel from the rack and scrubs her face, but nothing can hide the rawness of her eyes, help the congestion in her head and her soul. She knows what she has to do. And she can't rest until she does.

She needs to talk with Nate.

[songofsoma]

Everything

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: francine fairbanks x adam du mortain words: 1,511 rating: general

based off of this ask [ but deeper into the relationship ]

featuring @blightning​‘s detective :-)

read it on ao3

In all nine-hundred years of his life, Adam had never felt fear like this.

He had only left the damned medical wing for ten minutes when Agent Fairbanks pulled him aside for an urgent briefing covering the outcome of their prior mission. Although there was no true need to discuss the events that were now burned into his memory.

The way those lovely grey eyes filled with fear.

The beast’s claws ripping through fabric and flesh.

The smell of her blood as it pooled on the floor.

Every time he closed his eyes, Francine was lying in a heap on the floor in front of him, writhing in pain.

Letting the medics take her from his arms had been one of the hardest things to do. He couldn’t lose her. Adam wouldn’t survive it. What kind of sick joke would it have been to find the other half of himself after all these years, only to have her torn from his grasp?

The very thought made his throat tighten.

Him being on edge made matters worse when he had returned to the infirmary, only to find a frantic Elidor and an empty hospital bed.

Within minutes, the whole Warehouse was on lockdown in search of the detective.

Adam had tried his best to mask his panic. The icy sting of anxiety was coursing through his veins as clenched fists were itching to tear the building apart, piece by piece until she was located.

“Damnit, Francine,” he muttered to himself as he stalked the halls. 

Please come back to me.        

If he had been alone maybe, just maybe, he would have said that last phrase aloud. But he couldn’t bring himself to present a shred of vulnerability to the other members of Unit Bravo. They looked at him to be their leader in crises such as this one. Adam had to keep his focus on the mission and not his emotional involvement.

Francine is not just a mission.

He stifled a groan. Adam would be lucky if his traitorous thoughts didn’t age him another century by the end of this.

“Let’s split up,” Nate suggested. “We can cover more ground that way.”

“She couldn’t have gotten far in the shape she was in.” It Felix’s unsuccessful attempt at lightening the mood as he and Mason split off from the group.

Mason glared but kept his remark to himself.

Adam rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. He must have been doing a poor job at masking his agony for Nate rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, a look of sympathy hanging in his gaze.

“We’ll find her.”

He only nodded and said curtly, “Let me know as soon as you find anything.”

“Of course.”

They parted ways, Nate wringing his hands as he walked.

Adam ran a hand over his hair. Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, he blew out a tense breath before beginning down the hall.

An hour passed and they found nothing.

***

The majority of the Warehouse had been swept in search of the missing detective—but all efforts were unsuccessful. It was as if Frankie had become a ghost and walked through the walls to avoid being seen by anyone.

So far, Adam had broken two doors, a solid oak desk, and left behind a decent size crater in someone’s filing cabinet.

He had refused to give up. Even though it was dark, he was determined to begin searching the surrounding forests for Francine. 

There was a disgruntled air that followed him everywhere he walked. Nate was lucky that the menacing radiating from him didn’t immediately make a few of his favored plants wilt in seconds. 

He trudged through the door of his bedroom under the excuse he had to grab his coat. But in truth, he needed a moment alone to grieve his potential loss.

And the moment the door shut, Adam let out a yell of frustration, his fist slamming into the desk pushed up against the wall.

Two desks. He had broken two desks now.

He stood there for a long moment, his chest rising and falling heavily and heart pounding. 

“Please,” he choked out. The recipient of his pleas was unknown, even to himself. “Please don’t take her from me.”

A soft sigh sounded from across the room, followed by the shifting of blankets.

Startled, Adam froze, eyes desperately searching the dark room until they landed on the bed.

A huddled mass was curled up beneath the sheets. And as he approached, a cry of relief threatened to leave him. Even in the dark, he recognized her.

Short brown hair pooled beneath her head on the navy pillowcase. Her eyelashes left long shadows on her cheeks, deepening the color of a bruise on her cheekbone. Her lips were parted, and her breathing was even. She looked so peaceful.

“Francine,” Adam whispered, mostly to himself as if to confirm she was in fact there and safe. She had been there the entire time, right under his nose. Had she truly sought out his presence in a time of need?

His mind was an internal battle of adoration and guilt—for he loved her more than anything, but he wasn’t there when she needed him.

Adam swallowed hard, sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched her for a long moment, unsure if he should risk disturbing her.

However, if there was one truth in this world, it is that Adam was a weak man when it came to Francine Fairbanks.

With a hesitant hand, he gently ran the backs of his fingers against her cheek, the one that wasn’t burrowed into the pillow, being mindful of her injuries. Though he snapped it back when she shifted, murmuring something unintelligible under her breath. 

For a frightening moment, Adam thought he had woken her and was ready to begin profusely apologizing. 

Instead, Frankie moved closer to him, her knees pressing against his lower back.

All of the tenderness of the moment was lost when the door swung open, revealing Felix’s form silhouetted against the light from the hall.

“Nate sent me to check on y—” he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. “You found her!”

Adam hushed him furiously, silently praying she didn’t wake up.

“Please tell Nate that I am fine and that I found the detective.”

“And that you’re not to be bothered, understood.” He did a mock salute before hurrying out the way he came, leaving the couple alone once more.

There was a tug at the back of his shirt.

Francine was looking up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze, sleep still hanging in her eyes.

Adam knelt by the side of the bed, taking her hand in his large ones to kiss her knuckles. “I apologize for waking you.”

A small smile tugged at her lips though she said nothing.

“I was worried about you. The Agency was nearly tearing the building down brick by brick in search of you.”

As quickly as it had come, the smile fell. “I’m sorry.” Frankie’s whisper was hoarse.

Making her feel guilty was not his intention. He just wanted him to know how desperate he had been to find her. How scared he had been of losing her. It was as if he believed he could confess all of his fears in two minor sentences.

His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks gently. As much as he looked for something to say, he couldn’t string the words together. All he could do was lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead.

She was here.

He had her.

She was safe.

Frankie took advantage of the closeness to wrap her arms around his neck, holding him close. He followed her lead, sliding his arms around her, being cautious to avoid hurting her. It took every bit of restraint to not pull her in closer against his chest.

They stayed like that for a few long breaths, basking in each other’s company, until Frankie broke the silence.

“Can I stay here?” The words were so soft that it hurt.

He blinked in surprise. “Of course, what is mine is yours.”

Adam wouldn’t admit that he would prefer to keep her close.

“Will…” she seemed a bit hesitant to finish her question. “Will you stay?”

The warmth in her gaze was threatening to make him melt. “If that is what you would like.”

“More than anything.”

Frankie scooted over slowly as Adam toed off his boots to allow him to slide under the covers next to her.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Frankie settled into his arms, her head tucked under his chin.

They laid in comfortable silence. 

Adam listened as her breathing evened out once more and her body relaxed against him. He held her tightly, silently swearing to himself that she would be wanting for nothing, that he would always be there in her times of need.

He owed her everything for the way she loved him because Francine was his everything.

[clarosowrites]

Mistletoe (Adam x f!Detective)

Adam stood at parade rest against the wall, dispassionately watching the other attendees of the Wayhaven Holliday Party. Most of the town was here, mingling in the festively decorated Mayor's mansion. A jazz band played Christmas music in the next room.

He had thankfully avoided any sparkles in the outfit tonight. His simple red button down and black suit was extravagant enough for him, though Felix disagreed, trying to force him to wear a sequined tie. He easily spotted the youngest member of the team in his glittering silver suit. He was kneeling next to one of Mr. Verde's children, smiling as she showed him her dredile.

With any luck, that would keep him busy the rest of the night.

Mason was...somewhere. Probably skirting the edges of the party, like him, or drinking. And he knew Nate planned to make rounds with Agent McClaran, socializing with the citizens.

Their handler claimed being at the party would help their reputation, which was apparently less than stellar. Adam thought it was pointless. Unit Bravo had been in Wayhaven for over a year, the town's opinion of them was likely set by now. It didn't matter anyway--they didn't need anyone's approval to protect the town.

Suddenly, the sound of a single heartbeat reached his ears.

His shoulders dropped. Even through the music and the noise of the crowd, he'd recognize her.

Adam fought back a smile as warmth flooded his chest. It had only been a week since they saw each other last, but he'd felt the Detective's absence acutely. A week was nothing, a blink of the eye to him usually.  Yet, in the two months he and Catherine had started courting--he refused to call it such an insignificant term like dating--time had stretched in odd ways. A day with her seemed like barely five minutes. Every day apart was spent waiting for the next.

He turned to the entrance. His fingers tapped a nervous staccato against his arm as he scanned the crowd for her.

The mass of people parted and revealed Catherine like clouds parting for the sun.

Red fabric hugged her figure. The dress dipped low in the front, flowed past her hips and flared around her knees. She seemed to glow under the twinkling lights, her already statuesque figure even more noticeable in red. Her hair curled around her face, soft and loose in a way that made his fingers itch to touch--

He cleared his throat as she approached. "Detective."

Her smile was strained as she slipped her hand into his. This close, he realized she wore heels--she stood several inches taller than him and he had to tilt his head back to meet her eyes.

"I'm never letting Tina dress me, ever again." She hissed through clenched teeth. Her lips were painted red to match the dress. "I look like a big red elephant."

"That's absurd." He said and pulled her a step closer.

Catherine ducked her head, turning away from the crowd. She pulled at the dress's neckline. The material was practically molded to her skin, though, and she gave up with a frustrated huff.

"Adam, this dress is way too revealing for a work party!" She gestured up and down her body. "And I shouldn't have to wear heels!"

It was less modest than her usual outfits, true, the Detective preferred turtlenecks and long sleeved shirts most days, but he'd seen several women tonight with more skin on display.

She always looked perfect, even in her messy workout clothes. But he was biased. Besides, he'd asked if she looked appropriate, not his personal feelings on her appearance.

"You look..." He swallowed down the breathtaking and stunning that strained at his throat, "nice. And the height is appealing."

"Really?" She picked again at the dress.

He took her other hand to stop her fussing and smiled. "Are you calling me a liar, Detective?"

"No." Catherine admitted. She pursed her lips. "You're sure I look okay?"

Far better than okay, he thought. "I promise. It's appropriate for the occasion."

"Just what every girl wants to hear." She said sarcastically, the tension easing from her.

"I apologize." He squeezed her hands and smiled up at her. "I'm out of practice in giving compliments."

"Lucky for you, I'm not used to receiving any." She grinned. "I think we'll get along just fine."

A sharp whistle grabbed his attention. He turned to see Tina, grinning next to Felix in a sequined gold dress and pointing above their heads.

...where a tiny spring of mistletoe hung.

Adam's mouth went dry. For everything they had shared, confessions and open souls and lazy afternoons, they had yet to go any farther physically. She would press her lips to his cheek as a goodbye, occasionally, or to his hand as she held it, but they hadn't kissed. Actually kissed.

"Come on, Adam, plant one on her!" Felix called.

He snapped his head around to glare at him, trying to ignore the warmth flooding his cheeks.

Cat sighed. He stiffened as she place a hand on his shoulder and dipped her head to brush her lips across his cheek. The touch burned like it always did, like hot wax pressed onto his skin. His breath caught in his throat.

She walked towards Tina without glancing at him. "Happy?" She asked.

He didn't hear her response as they moved away, focused on his evening out his breathing. He did, however hear Felix's laugh.

"What." He snapped at the younger vampire.

Felix grinned even wider. "You look like you just face down a stake to the ribs instead of kissing the girl you like."

"She is not--"

"What?" He arched an eyebrow. "A girl? Who you like?"

"You make it sound so juvenile." He scoffed.

"It is juvenile if you act like your girlfriend has cooties." He gestured to the Detective's retreating figure. "Do you even want to kiss her?"

"We are taking this slow." He grit out.

"There's slow and there's glacial, Adam."

Nate appeared at Felix's side with a smile. "I think Mason's going to spike the punch. Felix, can you keep an eye on him?"

"Sure, boss man!" He saluted.

Adam sighed as they watched him wander off into the crowd.

"You realize Felix is only going to encourage him."

"Yep. I thought I'd rescue you, actually."

"And not interrogate me about my love life at all, correct?"

"At least you're admitting it exists! Finally!" He laughed. Adam couldn't help but grin.

Over his short relationship with Catherine, Nate had been his sounding board for practically everything. Planning dates, dissecting conversations--anything at all that involved Cat--Adam had applied himself with a military precision and Nate had helped. No matter how ridiculous his request, he'd helped

Nate nudged him with an elbow. "Really, though. You couldn't ask for a better set up than mistletoe on New Year's Eve. Why the hesitation?"

"Besides having a crowd?" He asked. "I need more time to plan it."

"Whenever you get around to it, its not going to be perfect."

"Perfect is what she deserves." Adam said defensively.

He shook his head and laughed. "I think you're just scared."

"Scared."

Creatures more ferocious than Nathaniel Sewell have cowered under the glare that Adam gave him. Nate just smiled.

"Yeah. Chicken?"

"Are you daring me to kiss the Detective?" He asked incredulously.

"It is working?" He grinned and clapped him on the back. "Carpe diem, old friend. No time like the present."

Adam cursed under his breath as his best friend walked away. He was right. He was scared, more scared since he met Catherine than he'd been in the past 900 years. Scared of himself and terrified of the uncertainty that haunted every interaction.

But when did that stop him from doing anything?

"Damn it."

After a military acquisition of a certain decoration and ten minutes of searching, he managed to find the Detective in the kitchen, away from the rest of the party.

"Catherine?"

She looked up at her name and smiled. "Hey Adam."

She perched on the granite counter, swinging her bare feet under her. She fanned herself with an old magazine.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Those heels are killing me." She nodded to the black shoes on the floor. "And...there's a lot of booze in there."

"Ah." He frowned. "I cannot assist with that."

She shrugged, pushing her hair back and off her shoulders. "Its okay."

He took a steadying breathe and forced himself across the kitchen. Standing in front of her, he saw the uncertain tilt of her head and the way she unconsciously leaned into him.

"Catherine." He said again.

"Adam." She grinned. "What's going on?"

He cleared his throat, his mind suddenly blank. His fist clenched around the greenery he held.

"What's that?" She brought his hand up and he opened it, revealing the mistletoe.

Confusion flashed across her face. It transformed to delight and amusement as he slowly lifted it above their heads. He took the final step to close the gap between them, her knees pressing into his thighs.

She smiled, and god, he could loose himself in that smile, adoring and open and everything he doesn't deserve. And then she slid one hand up his chest, the other curling around the back of his neck, his skin burning underneath her touch, even through his clothes. His eyes fell shut--blocking out everything else but the feel of her hands.

At the first brush of her lips on his, Adam shuddered. At the second, he leaned into her, the mistletoe falling from his hand so he could cup her jaw. Fuck--if he thought her touch before was burning, then this was a brand. Her kiss seared into his lips and he wanted it to, for her to leave her mark on his skin that matched the one on the inside of his chest and--

She pulled away. He moaned at her absence, some small, broken thing that he couldn't bring himself to care about.

He chased her mouth, only halted by the hand pushing on his shoulder, a silent stop.

"We..." She said unsteadily, and he opened his eyes just to see her wet her lips and swallow. "We should..."

He nodded. "Get back to the party." It would be less than impressive if someone found the Detective in a compromising position, as much as he wanted to create one.

He dared to press for one more kiss, firm and swift, before lifting her from the counter. As he set her on her bare feet, she looked dazed.

"Right." Cat straightened her dress and slipped into her shoes. "Do I look okay?"

"You're beautiful." He said. "I should have said that earlier. Stunning."

"You big flirt." She accused, smiling broadly.

Her fingers curled around his collar. "I only have to stay for another hour or so. Maybe we could...go back to my apartment and hang out."

"I would like that." He murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Okay." She stepped back. "Stay out of trouble until then."

"I will." He promised, dropping her hand reluctantly.

"Bye."

With a final wave, she slipped out of the kitchen and out of his sight. He leaned against the counter and sighed happily. He could rejoin the party in a few moments--for now, Adam closed his eyes and let himself follow her heartbeat.

[ladys-aesthetics]

Wayhaven Reincarnation AU

Adam sees a face from his past, a woman who he saw buried over 900 years before.

Adam knew who she was from the moment he saw her in that warehouse. Or, more accurately, he knew who she had been. He had known her at the beginning of his own life, almost a millenia before. But that was impossible.

She had been a local girl, her father a tenant of his after they had settled on the wet land that was now England. She had been his lover for a time, just before she turned up dead. She had died, over 900 years ago, and he had seen her buried beneath the earth. She couldn't be standing in front of him, yet she was.

And then she shot him and he knew- he knew- it was somehow her.

She, to her knowledge had never met him before, but something about the brooding commanding agent seems so familiar, as if she knew him from another life.

Her mother introduced him, but somehow she knew his name from the moment she laid eyes on him. She also knew- she knew- that he had been the one she had shot in the warehouse the night before.

Every move he made, she could have predicted, like she had know him for years. His graceful elegance haunted her. She could imagine crinkles around his cool green eyes, her favorite color, and dimples that she knew he had, as if she had seen him smile a hundred times before. And she could swear that she knew the way his body would feel if it ever cradled hers.

And then she found out he was a vampire, and nothing made sense anymore.

The shelves rise high around them as they read in companionable silence and she comes across something that might just explain everything.

Reincarnation. The word flared at the top of the page and everything seemed to click. She looked over at Adam, who was engrossed in his own book, then back to the page. Her fingertip ran over the word, not quite believing in it.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" she asked before she could think better of it.

He didn't even bother to pull his eyes away from his book. "Yes," he said simply.

"Do you think that, maybe, I might be a reincarnation of someone?" Subtlety had never been her strong suit.

This grabbed his attention, his eyes shooting up to her. "Perhaps," he said stiffly. "Why do you ask?"

And she knew- she knew- that he knew. That somehow, some way, she was someone from his past. Now all she needed to do was figure out who.

She smiled sweetly at him "No reason.

So, this is based off of my detective. And @seraphinitegames said that A views the detective as their soulmate. So I thought, reincarnation. What if the detective was a reincarnated version of a lover that A had had when they where still human? And this is the brain child.

-Ladys-Aesthetics

[leafkisser]

Day 16: Grief

This fic made me get all emotional while I was writing it 😔

Pairing: Female Detective (Allegra Bellin) x Adam du Mortain

Word count: 556

Warnings: Character death is implied.

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Adam says without looking away from the road. Nate looks over from the passenger seat, noticing how Adam looks exhausted which he didn’t think possible. Dark circles around his eyes are the only sign that his friend isn’t okay.

“I know but I wanted to come with you,” He states then turns away from him to look out the window giving Adam time to himself. They drive the rest of the way in silence, Nate just admires the trees as they whiz by but soon the car starts to slow and the trees break to show their destination.

The Wayhaven Cemetery looks like it was cut out of the forest, the gravestones standing in the clearing appear as petrified tree stumps. They lay in rows and Nate can already spot the pair of gravestones they are here for. They stand together, virtually twins except one of them has ivy creeping it’s way across the once pristine marble surface and a sad smile comes to Nate’s face as he thinks of the person the ivy is currently hugging.

Read the rest on Ao3

[warlock-enthusiast]

Waking up slow

The Wayhaven Chronicles

Adam du Mortain x female Detective (in the future)

Detective Kat Kingston faces a murder, Unit Bravo and her mother. 

AO3link

----

I don't know where to begin But I didn't think I cared I could be your friend But I'm unprepared

Kat looked at the mirror and stuck out her tongue.

Not much to see there. Especially after getting almost no sleep. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, hollowing out her face, and giving her a constant aura of exhaustion. With her pale skin, Kat wondered, if some aspiring filmmaker would hire her for an extra in their horrorfilm. Background zombie vampire number 21. Surely she could throw in some undead moans and shuffling.

She made a note to investigate, if anyone filmed in the surrounding areas.

Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, Kat felt a bit more like herself. It hugged her wide hips and concealed her tummy, which she hadn’t been ready to show to the world since her early teenage years. She decided to throw in some jewelry, a long necklace, earrings, nothing special.

A dash of powder and she faced her mirror again. “You can do this. Just take a deep breath and survive the day and make sure that no one else get killed.”

She’d been the logical choice for a promotion, but she started to doubt her abilities. Always the smart one in class, Kat now found herself facing obstacle after obstacle. A killer haunted her town and evidence seemed to be spare, one dead woman, strange blood samples, Verda working over hours to get some results. But nothing made sense. Wayhaven wasn’t known for it’s high crime rate. Most of the days, she investigated neighborhood disputes, lost cats (her rate of finding them was nearing 100%) and drug related incidents at times.

Lately, doubts crawled into her sleep and made her wonder, if she deserved the title of Detective. She saw herself as neither smart nor experienced enough.

Not to mention a whole squad of agents occupied her office and station. With them around her, Kat felt out of place and small. Between the four of them were years of actual agent work and whatever they’d been paid to do.

With them, her mother had also grabbed a part of her life again.

Wonderful.

“No. Not thinking of her.” Their complicated relationship offered too many raw wounds and too many missed birthdays and the vastness of a lonely childhood. At her ripe age of 31, she surely should get over it, but bitterness seemed rooted deep within in herself. All those expensive hours of therapy, just to face the same old shit.

Kat tucked her red hair behind her ears and nodded. “Off we go then.”

Half past seven and her neighbors slowly began their day. She heard laughing children and dogs barking. The pure picture of a quiet, idyllic town. Kat wrapped her scarf a bit tighter around her neck, because the air felt cold and smelled of frost. Though, she’d always liked this time of the year, before it got uncomfortable warm and before pollen attacked her nose and eyes.

She got in her car and found herself relaxing behind the wheel, with the help of Stevie Nicks and her comforting voice. Singing along Seven Wonders worked miracles on a bad mood.

Her shoulders tensed as she noticed a familiar figure in front of the station. Handsome and rugged, Bobby owned too much space in her memories and still too much space in her life.

Kat nodded. “Bobby.” “Hey, angel. Long time no see.” He smiled and stood right in front of the entrance. Sighing, she tried to find a way around him. “Look, Bobby, I haven’t got the time.” “Come on, just some small answers. Wouldn’t hurt you, eh?”

“At this point, I can’t tell you anything. We’re investigating different angles.”

“Please.” Bobby’s eyes were bright and cheerful and Kat rubbed her neck, hoping that she didn’t blush. He’d been charming back when they meet at college and then dumped her, because he couldn’t bring a chubby girl home to meet his parents.

Yeah, that had happened.

Concentrating on how she felt back then surely helped with bringing more distance between the two of them. It also pushed the self-doubts to a new high. Damn. This morning totally screwed her over.

“The detective is needed inside.”

Kat spun around and almost crushed into Adam’s chest. “Detective Kingston.” He opened the door and positioned himself right between herself and Bobby. Her throat seemed suddenly very, very dry with Adam standing so close. Dressed in his usual grey shirt and cargo trousers, he cut an impressive figure.

“So, are you going to answer a few questions.” “No.”

Kat slipped in and ignored Bobby’s protests. She already feared what he would write about her and the Wayhaven police. Probably calling them incompetent and lazy for selling a few more papers.

“Good morning, Douglas.”

His smile looked earnest and cheerful. “Morning, Kat. Everything alright?” “Yes, thank you.” Kat nodded and followed Adam, because further stalling wouldn’t improve anyone's day.

Adam opened her office door and she walked in. “Good morning. You’re awfully early.”

“Couldn’t wait to see you, Detective.” Felix quipped and Kat felt heat rising in her neck and up to her cheeks. Being the center of attention had never been comfortable and Kat tried hide her embarrassment with focussing on anything but Felix.

A hot, steaming coffee waited on Kat’s desk and she found a note from Tina and a smiley drawn beneath it. She liked it with a dash of oat milk and cupped it in her hands as she sat down. Kat would visit her later and thank her for indulging one tired detective. The rest of the team had already made themself comfortable. Mason leaning against a filing cabinet, Felix lounging on the only other chair, Nate crunched over her desk, checking his notes and comparing them to Kat’s.

“So, another day of research?” Felix sighed loudly enough for Adam to stare him into silence again.

Nate looked up, his warm eyes on Kat. “If that is your plan of action.” She looked down to check her mails. “Yeah, we need to find out what’s going on with the blood of the victim and how it fits into all of this.”

Back in college, she’d thought about following her passion for science and enter the pathology course, but it didn't worked out. It still lingered on her mind from time to time and she spent more time than necessary down in the lab with Verda.

Kat read through the file again.

Janet Greenland. Aspiring engineer. Far too young to face such a gruesome fate.

Kat took a sip of coffee. “I’d appreciate it, if you would tell me about your findings. You’ve been tracking him for a while and must know more than me.” Nate and Adam exchanged a glance. Did they really believe themself to be subtle? They’d only known each other for a few days, but often enough she felt left out of the conversation and their secrets.

“You already received all our information.” Adam’s face seemed unmoved and his intense eyes woke a squeamish sensation in her stomach.

Kat stood up and tried to scrap together her last pieces of confidence. “I know that you’re not exactly excited to work with me, but I appreciate your insight into this and would be really grateful, if you wouldn’t leave me in the dark.”

"Detective Kingston…” Nate started, but Adam didn’t let him continue.

Felix and Mason stayed quiet, probably used to the other two butting their heads.

Kat waited for an answer, knowing that red spots started to bloom on her neck, betraying her confident words.

"So?"

"So." Adam's answer held a final note.

Tina knocked on the door, thankfully cutting through the awkward silence that followed their exchange.

“Excuse me.” Kat got up and straightened her skirt. “Time for break. There is a nice bakery around the corner, if you’re hungry. Makes good sandwiches and cupcakes.”

She left with a feeling that no one in Unit Bravo would follow her advice, and with her coffee secured between her fingers.

Her friend slung an arm around Kat's shoulders and whispered. “The blond one is still staring.” “Probably thinking less and less of me and my competence. Wouldn't blame him." Adam du Mortain usually worked with skilled professionals, not some small town Detective that got a bit lucky and who had to be rescued from noisy ex-boyfriends.

"Let's check out, if anyone has repaired our vending machine.” Kat ignored the urge to look back through the glass and just held herself a bit stiffer. “You’re still hoping to get back your money?” Tina guided her towards their break room. “I do or at least that chocolate bar.”

“Always the optimist.” Kat snorted. “Haven’t been called that in a while.”

As expected, the vending machine didn’t work and she positioned herself against the counter. Tina opened their mini fridge and made a face. Douglas had forgotten about his lunch for about a week now and it began to grew a soft pelt. They really should trow it away, but neither of them seemed brave enough to touch it.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Tina nudged Kat’s shoulder with her own. “How you’re holding up? I mean with the case and with your mother back in Wayhaven?”

“Not that well, if you want the truth. I’m afraid for the people here and I don’t know, if I’m up to the task of catching the murderer. Unit Bravo doesn’t help as much as I thought they would.”

Kat bit her lip. “And Rebecca, hm, you know … I respect her on a professional level and that is as far as I’m thinking about her now.” “It’s a start.” “I guess.” Kat finished her coffee. Dead father, absent mother, didn’t help much growing up. She shook her head. “Enough of my stunted emotions. How was your date with… damn, what was her name? Anna?” “Annabelle.” Tina smiled. “Actually, pretty bad. We didn’t click and after dinner we decided to just accept that and part ways.” “Sorry to hear that.” “Nah, I’ll find the one and at least she didn't throw her drink at the bartender.”

Tina laughed and her eyes sparkled with amusement. Kat found herself smiling too. It seemed hard to not do when her friend was around. She also remembered their horrible double date, back when her guy got so angry about something that he threw his perfectly fine vodka soda at the Bartender. They didn’t arrest him but let him go off with a warning to behave better in the future.

“Here’s to another day in Wayhaven.” Kat raised her empty mug.

“Hear, hear!”

[ellenembee]

Safety

A stand-alone fic of a “skipped” moment in The Wayhaven Chronicles books.

Ophelia calls Adam for help when the supernaturals from the carnival attack her in her home. As they work together to move Bobby to the warehouse, the comfort she feels in Adam's presence leads Ophelia to some realizations... which she promptly buries as deep as she can.

Warmth infused her as his fingers curled around her hand and pulled. Normally, she had better reflexes, but weeks of poor sleep and the lateness of the hour made her clumsy. She stumbled forward. A thick arm curled around her waist to steady her, and she managed to catch herself with a palm against his chest. "Oh," she breathed. His muscles flexed under her fingers. Warmth filled her chest and flooded her cheeks. The heat intensified when she registered the pressure of his arm against her back and his hand still wrapped around hers. She flicked her gaze up to find him watching her with an intensity her mind didn't want to parse but her body understood all too well. Beside them, Bobby whimpered. Ophelia jerked out of Adam's grasp just as he took a wide step back.

[ladiemars]

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕤 ⟡ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

the wayhaven chronicles | adam du mortain x female detective (frankie fairbanks) | 2248 words | rated e

synopsis: after accidentally triggering a latent spell during one of their investigations, adam and frankie find themselves dealing with the unfortunate side effects.

In the late, still-rainy night, Frankie’s office was dark. But she’d spent countless hours working at her desk like this, so her hands knew where to find things even when her eyes didn’t.

Tina rapped her knuckles against the door, poking her head in without waiting for a response. “Are you still working on that case analysis?” she asked breezily.

“Huh?” Frankie’s mind was so preoccupied that it took her several seconds to process the question. “Oh. Yes.”

Heels clicked on the tile floor as Tina walked over to her desk. She planted one hand on the surface, the other on her hip, and examined the paper between them. “It looks done to me.”

It would, to someone like Tina. Frankie used to do both their paperwork when they partnered together, and then present it to Tina for signature. In exchange, Tina would do most of the talking on the field.

Frankie rubbed her fingers across the tense line of her brow. It was only as she did it that she realized her hand was smeared with ink. Ugh.

“My work has to be flawless,” she said seriously.

“Why?” Tina asked.

keep reading on ao3

[roguelioness]

Five years ago, Nikita Batra failed to catch a killer. Leaving her failure behind in Spofford, she’s worked hard to forge a new life for herself. Now the killer has returned - and has an unhealthy fixation on her.

She’s older now, and wiser - will she be able to finally put her past to rest?

Chapter 4 - What a wicked game to play

It’s a faint sound that brings her out of the darkness - the gentle click of a door being closed shut. Nikita groans, the sound carrying her distress, and opens her eyes to stare at a very white, very unremarkable ceiling. She’s on some kind of bed - the mattress beneath her is lumpy and the rough, scratchy blanket smells weirdly of grease. There’s the low hum of the fluorescent light that glares directly into her eyes, and she hisses and shifts awkwardly to get away from it.

Something clinks, the sound of metal hitting metal, and it catches her attention and makes her freeze - the events of the past days slamming into her like a backhand from a troll. Heart racing, she looks to see what made the sound, breath flooding out of her in frustration and despair as she spies the thick steel manacle wrapped around her wrist, the chain ending at the wall. [Read on AO3] [Start from the beginning]

[roguelioness]

Five years ago, Nikita Batra failed to catch a killer. Leaving her failure behind in Spofford, she’s worked hard to forge a new life for herself. Now the killer has returned - and has an unhealthy fixation on her.

She’s older now, and wiser - will she be able to finally put her past to rest?

Chapter 3 - Feel the fury closing in

“Well, this is… not good,” Nikita sighs, staring down at the body in the opening of the alleyway. An elderly, wizened woman is sprawled out ungainly on the pavement, her eyes opaque with the sheen of death, white hair stark against the dirty concrete surface. “You’re getting the scent?”

“Oh, yeah,” Maaka nods, his eyes flicking over the rooftops and searching the area. “Our guy was definitely here.”

“Not his usual type of victim,” she frowns, dropping to her haunches, reaching out with gloved hands to open the slender black clutch lying next to the dead woman. Erika Gallagher, the driver’s license declares, the photograph of a young woman with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she mutters, staring at the i.d. “This can’t be the same woman… can it?” [Read on AO3] [Start from the beginning]

[roguelioness]

Five years ago, Nikita Batra failed to catch a killer. Leaving her failure behind in Spofford, she's worked hard to forge a new life for herself. Now the killer has returned - and has an unhealthy fixation on her.

She's older now, and wiser - will she be able to finally put her past to rest?

Prologue

“Come now, Officer, you’re in no position to lie to me. I’ve told you - certain actions on your part created a nuisance on my end. I dislike being inconvenienced. I cannot emphasize enough just how much I loathe it. And so, really, you have only yourself to blame for your current predicament. I did make it clear my preference was for Officer Batra- no, wait,” he tilts his head to the side and smiles, the action revealing every one of those menacing teeth, “it’s Detective Batra now, isn’t it?” He exhales, the sound mockingly mournful in the silence of the room. “You really shouldn’t have interfered.”

[Read on AO3]