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zozo-01 · 6 months

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"is this the end of all the endings? (my broken bones are mending.)"

Happy Birthday to me!! It was my birthday earlier this month so I had to write myself a lil something something!! And you already knew I had to feature my favourite wolf and their vampire!!

[story takes place after before ‘cuddles and confessions’ but after ‘confronted by your alpha’, and sam and darlin’ aren’t together]

CW: Mentions of Abuse, Slowburn, Sam is an idiot, Darlin’ is an idiot, David is bad at planning surprises, Darlin’ has a fall birthday, Finessing the timeline a little, Author is outing herself by inserting her embarrassing and sad stories in this fic, Darlin’ is me, I am Darlin’, but they use they/them pronouns, There is one mention of Darlin’ being BIPOC but it’s a throwaway line for me and me alone

click here for the ao3 link!!!

Sam woke up that morning with his phone in his hands, a habit he only recently developed.

Under normal circumstances, he would have left his phone on his bedside table, letting it charge for the next day. But these aren’t normal circumstances and they weren’t a normal person. To him, at the very least.

He’s long accepted that against his will, the wolf he met on Solaire land means more to him than what he’s willing to admit. It’s gotten to the point where he’s caught himself twitching with a smile in front of the clan when they sent one of their goofy daily updates. Thankfully, it was brief enough that no one noticed. Except for the clan’s resident lover boy.

“Oooooh, Sam’s got a partner! Is it the Shaw wolf? I bet it’s them- they’re soooo your type and I can’t blame you, they’re very pretty, hehe.”

“Vincent, shut up ‘fore I knock you on your ass.”

“Jealous much, am I right Lovely.~”

“Stop teasing Sam- VINCENT LOOK OUT!”

Laying in bed, Sam thinks about what it is about this reckless wolf that has him acting like a love-struck teenager. Their striking appearance was what drew him in, and who could blame him. Darlin’ looked like the bad, city kid ripped from every romance novel. He adored their appearance but it was their heart, their righteous anger and that goddamn beautiful smile that kept him staying up at night talking to them, in the hopes that he’s making them happy on the other end.

(It would some time before Darlin’ confesses this fact, but there is a video on Marie's phone where they’re screaming in a pillow because that’s how enamoured they are with him.)

Speaking of messages, he opened his phone to see if there were any unread texts from them. His heart raced when he saw that there was one unread notification, thinking it was from Darlin’. His heart sank when it wasn’t their contact name highlighted, but it picked up again when it was a message from David Shaw. Sam opened it, nerves making him sick as to what their Alpha has said.

Mr. Shaw: Buy a chocolate cake for the troublemaker.

Mr. Shaw: It’s their birthday and they’re ignoring our messages.

Overcoming the initial shock caused by David messaging him, his mind went blank.

It’s their birthday. And he didn’t buy any presents for them. What terrible future partner he was.

Sam was still confused as to why David was messaging him of all people. Darlin’ had been integrating back into the pack, at a glacial pace for sure, but it was more progress than they expected. Given what sparse stories they tell him about the infamous Shaw Pack, Asher and Milo would have been the better option for throwing the party they deserve. David ended any further pondering Sam might have done with his next message.

Mr. Shaw: They know that we know it’s their birthday, so in a failed attempt to make today not a big deal, they will be ignoring any of our wishes.

Mr. Shaw: I’m willing to bet that they haven’t told you that their birthday was coming up, so the pack is relying on you to give them their first normal birthday, since… him. It doesn’t have to be anything flashy, they’d kill me if it was.

If that’s the case, then Sam will make this the best ‘not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party to ever party.

Sam Collins: of course sir

Sam Collins: leave ‘em to me

Mr. Shaw: Thank you, Sam. For being there and caring for them in a way that the pack hasn’t.

Mr. Shaw: Also, you don’t have to keep calling me sir.

He chuckled at the last message, amused by the Alpha’s blunt care for his fellow wolf. He was glad that despite all the emotional baggage between the two introverted wolves, that he was always there for them, and they will always be there for him.

Ignore the fact that their birthday is during the fall. (“Autumn, Sam. It’s autumn.”) That’s just a mere coincidence that has nothing to do with anything. So what if his favourite person was born during his favourite season? So what if their rare smile is as warm as the fall sun, warm and bright and comforting in the most magical way possible. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

(It meant everything to Sam. For a man, who didn’t believe in soulmates and happily ever afters, it’s pretty damn hard to deny the idea that they were made for him. Every facet of their personality perfectly complimented his own. Their stubbornness with his care. Their shit eating grins with his amused yet exasperated grunts. The city kid who learned to fight in the trenches and the cowboy who could shoot before he could walk. A shifter who’s very nature is change and a vampire who is at an eternal standstill. The unstoppable force and the immovable object.)

(Stardust intertwines their bodies, magic binds their souls, their fates and destinies are tied together whether or not either of them accepts it. Sam waits patiently in the stark white room, waiting for the sun to shine on him like he was the moon. Gentle care is what awaits them both in the future, and between you and me, he much prefers their soft light over the harsh rays of heat from his childhood.)

Where was he again? Oh right, the not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party. His mind seems to wander these days when it comes to them.

He switches the contacts in his phone, taking a minute to admire their contact picture. How someone could look so done with life, yet adorable, he will never understand. Another one of life’s greatest mysteries and he’s happy to solve it with them.

Sam Collins: can i come over today?

Before his heart could pound in anticipation for a response, Darlin’ had already figured out his plan.

pretty wolf 🐺: no

Sam Collins: can i at least explain?

pretty wolf 🐺: n o o o o

pretty wolf 🐺: i refuse to let david’s plans work

pretty wolf 🐺: you will absolutely not come over

Sam Collins: how on earth did you guess all o’ that? and why would ya assume david’s in on it?

pretty wolf 🐺: because that man is terrible at planning surprises ‘cuz he’s too predictable

pretty wolf 🐺: i’m surprised his mate let him get away with this

pretty wolf 🐺: so no

Sam Collins: but it’s your birthday?

pretty wolf 🐺: and??? so??? you’re absolutely welcome to come over if the leafs win the cup, but that aint happenin till i die

Sam Collins: i’ll bring cake and food

pretty wolf 🐺: …im payin you back

pretty wolf 🐺: dont fight me on that

Sam Collins: wouldn’t dream of it

Sam Collins: see you in a few

pretty wolf 🐺liked your message

–

cowboy has read your message

Ok, they think every nook and cranny of their small apartment is spotless. Considering the lack of furniture in their apartment, it wasn’t a hard task to complete.

They made a note on their phone to remind themselves to kill David at the next pack meeting. How many times did they have to tell him and the rest of those assholes that no, they didn’t need a birthday party. Just send a text and they were content. Darlin’ never liked being the centre of attention unless they did something notable enough to earn it. Celebrating them because their parents happened to bang nine months prior was definitely not on the ‘something notable’ list.

(They won’t mention that it was their fear of the future, the unknown, that prevented them from celebrating the mundane. Memories of shattered glass and tears and bullets were enough to remind them that the good times never last.)

(But maybe Sam will prove otherwise. Emphasis on the maybe.)

They go through their wallet, pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills, ready to shove them down Sam’s pockets so he’ll take it home. It would be easier to venmo or e-transfer it, but despite his young appearance, Sam firmly believes in not leaving a paper or cash trail behind. They’d joked that it was ok if he had a criminal past, they were used to hanging out with the unsavoury crowd. But when he went silent and drifted back in time, they quietly accepted his outlook, even if it made it damn near impossible to pay him back for his generosity.

They sat on the couch, answering calls and texts from their pack and family. Giving half-hearted responses and begging Asher to stop fucking singing was what they did. Their mom asked if they would come home soon. (ہمیں آخری بار ایک دوسرے کو دیکھے کافی عرصہ ہو گیا ہے۔) But between Quinn and the pack and their lawyer work, it was another birthday away from their parents. (مجھے بہت افسوس ہے ماں، شاید اگلے سال؟) It gets easier to treat their birthday as non-important to their parents every year that goes by, but it’s getting harder to ignore the pain in their mom’s voice.

Before their eyes teared up at their parent’s disappointment, there was a knock on the door. They jumped, doing a quick once over of their place. Darlin’ took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm their pounding heart, and opened the door with their signature deadpan.

There he was. Leaning against the door frame with a cake and takeout in his hands, with that stupid smile on his face. It had to be illegal to be this attractive and sweet and caring, wrapped up into the finest body they have ever seen. They should sue him for stealing their heart because they know if he breaks it, they may never recover.

Fuck, it’s always terrifying to bare their emotions freely, but Darlin’ was used to it.

So why is he different, and how would he hurt them in the end?

“I know David probably threatened you to do this, but you really didn’t have to.” They waited to see if Sam would walk in on his own, but between being a vampire and being a southern gentleman, he needed a written invitation on gold paper to invite himself inside. Darlin’ moved out of the way to let the vampire inside.

He shook his head and smiled, walking inside and taking his shoes off. “David didn’t force me to do nothin’, darlin’. In fact,” he placed the bag of takeout and cake on the table, “he seems more worried about his own ass then my own.” He chuckled and opened his arms, waiting for Darlin’ to hug him. (Always waiting. Always patient with them.)

They held himself back from jumping into his arms, wrapping their arms around his waist. Taking a deep breath (though not too deep to seem weird), Darlin’ responded. “Good. He knows what’s gonna happen at the next meetin’.” Their shoulders relaxed when they felt his arms around him, and for a vampire, his body was warmer than most. At least warmer than Quinn.

He laughed, squeezing them closer to his chest. (Bury them in his rib cage to keep them safe.) “I’m sure you’ll beat his ass.” He rested his chin on top of them, rubbing their back in the process. If they had less willpower than they do, they would have fallen asleep right then and there. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

Pulling away, Darlin’ looked at Sam’s warm and beautiful eyes. And for the first time that day, they smiled and said, “Thank you, Sam,” with genuine sincerity. It wasn’t forced or given because they were obligated too. Darlin’ didn’t know why it was different with him. They like to think it’s because they didn’t expect all this from a man they had met only a few months ago, or it’s because Sam was the type of man who didn’t let many into his heart, so it was an honour to receive this care from him so often.

(It’s definitely not because Darlin’ is in love with him. It can’t be. Subtly looking to the side of the pots they had out, Darlin’ saw the face of a person who despite their best effort, could never make the right decision. They were messy and cruel and violent when needed, and Sam deserved softness. They might not know what he’s gone through in life, or why he’s the isolated curmudgeon of the clan, but it didn’t matter. He deserved the most sweetest and nicest and easiest and amazing partner to exist. Someone who didn’t make the worst case scenarios the norm or made him prepare for lecture beforehand.)

(People like Darlin’ don’t get soft endings, their jagged and sharp edges mangle the delicate future they could have if they weren’t so fucked up. They would rip the destinies from others, picking and choosing the sequence of events that are worthy to be Sam’s truth, but they won’t stick around to ruin it any further. Fate damns those who go against her wishes, and Darlin’ wasn’t going to let Sam be collateral damage.)

They cleared their throat to end the impromptu staring contest and turn to get plates from their cupboards. “How has your day been, cowboy?” They asked while placing the plates and cutlery on the table.

He took a seat at the barstool chair. “It’s been good,” he started. “William’s been getting ready for the Monarchal Summit, meanin’ we’re all workin’ overtime to get ready.” He stretched his back and Darlin’ bit their lip to stop themselves from making a comment from a popping noise. They slid him a plate of food, causing him to raise his eyebrow. “Ain’t you gonna eat too?”

They nodded their head. “I will, but I gotta do some things first real quickly.” They walked over to the sink, wanting to wash the dishes before they ate. But before they could turn the water on, Sam held their wrist to stop them.

“Darlin’, it’s your birthday. Let me do ‘em for ya.” He slowly reached for their waist to move them out of the way. Not like they were going to let that stop them.

“Sammy, you’re my guest. I can’t let ya do my housework.” They huffed, staring him dead in the eye to convince him otherwise.

He leaned over the wolf, pinning them to the counter. Now this is playing dirty. How on Earth were they supposed to focus when he’s staring them down like that? Their mind was wandering to some unholy territory, but they needed to win this argument.

“In my family, the birthday person don’t do shit ‘round the house.”

“Well in my family, the guests are served first. You got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

After a few moments of staring into each other’s eyes, Sam shook his head and picked Darlin’ up and carried them to a stool. Placing them down, he commanded, “Now you’re gonna sit pretty o’er here while I do the dishes, understood?”

Well shit. With a voice like that, how can they not listen to him? With a dazed look and complaints dying on their tongue, Darlin’ nodded. “I ain’t gon’ eat till you done, asshole.”

He smirked and promptly started on the dishes. “Of course, didn’t expect nothin’ less.” With that, his focus went back to the dishes, trying to finish up as fast as they can to end Darlin’s hunger strike.

They placed their arms on the table, resting their chin on it to stare at the man in front of them. For a selfish moment, they let their eyes indulge in the braids in his hair to his tan and unmarred skin to those built arms. They, of course, let their eyes linger on his arms, thinking about how big they are, how much work it went into achieving that size…

…How they would feel wrapped around their waist… How safe they would make them feel…

“Have I ever told you why I moved to Dahlia?”

He paused his dishwashing, looking up at the birthday wolf. Raising his eyebrows, he says, “How come?” It was rare that the wolf spoke about themselves, let alone their life before Dahlia.

They took a deep breath. “I was 15 and walkin’ back from a basketball game. It was December, so it was dark as shit at 4 PM. Not that it was a problem, I always walked alone, so it was whatever.” They straightened their back. “I thought it was a good idea to walk alone ‘cuz I didn’t wanna wait in the cold for 15 minutes just for a packed bus to come. Besides, the walk wasn’t that bad.”

Darlin’ chuckled at their stupidity. In hindsight, it was so easy to see their mistake. “Halfway through, a white van pulled up beside me and some assholes dragged me inside. Knocked me out too. Took me to some fightin’ ring bullshit since they could tell I was a shifter.”

Sam put the rest of his dishes away and walked around to stand besides Darlin’. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

They shook their head with a laugh. “Oh I wasn’t there for long. Someone saw me get taken and the license plate of the van so the cops could track ‘em. There were some that had been there from time, though. I got out ‘fore I got thrown in the ring. But, like, let’s be honest, I woulda kicked some ass.”

(Sam didn’t need to know that Darlin’ was convinced they were never going to get out. That the fact the police even looked for them was a miracle. Disappearing kids weren’t a new phenomenon to them. Everyone growing up had a friend or a family member that was taken but never found. Darlin’ was convinced they were going to be another statistic in a long line of tragic lives that ended quickly.)

(No one cares for the Black and Brown kids from Scarborough.)

He flicked their forehead gently. “Just ‘cus it didn’t last for long don’t mean it wasn’t fuckin’ terrifyin’. You were just a kid, Darlin’.”

Yeah. Yeah, they were just a kid.

They sniffled and wiped their eyes. “Right, um, yeah. Anywho, my parents didn’t think the city was safe anymore, so we packed our bags and moved out here.” The pleading that the event was a one time thing didn’t stop the rushed search of a new home. Within a month, Darlin’ had to say goodbye to all their friends and the neighbourhood they grew up in. Resentment and denial brewed in them, thinking this was all a dream until they stepped onto the plane.

The silence was deafening, filled with unsaid comforts and reassurances.

Why on Earth did they drop that story on him? Sam had only come by to celebrate their birthday, something he didn’t even have to do. He didn’t ask for this story and Darlin’ never voluntarily gave out information. They’ve always been taught that people will use their secrets against them, using their own trauma as knives to further hurt them. Not that it would stop people from spilling their story.

Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete. Because even if it was better to have no friends than bad friends, they so desperately wanted connections that they would smile with bloody teeth and bruised lips to convince themselves that people were laughing with them and not at them.

But Sam wouldn’t do that to them. (It wasn't a question or an unsure statement, it was the truth.)

Breaking the silence, Darlin’ looked Sam in the eye. “You wanna hear about me bein’ a dumbass?”

Sam scoffed, “Is your version of bein’ dumbass include you dying in a ditch?” They knew he said it in jest, but there was an undertone of desperation and fear in his voice. Darlin’ wishes they could soothe that pain in his voice.

“No, no, not that kind of dumbass.” They grab a couple of plates and the takeout Sam brought so they can have some food with a less depressing story. “Have I mentioned that I have family in the south?” They let out a giggle at the indignant noise that Sam let out. They kept this fact hidden from him because they knew once he found out, they’d be in for another lecture on how ‘every southern person ain’s cowboy.’

“So you know bein’ southern don’t equal bein’ a cowboy? But you still call me cowboy every damn chance you can get?” He sat next to them, facing towards the wolf. One arm resting on the table while the other rubs his face in frustration. “They didn’t teach ya any southern manners? Maybe they should have their southern card revoked.”

They rolled their eyes and handed him a plate. “Oh ha ha. You got jokes now, wait til I tell you this story.” They sat next to him and started eating the food. Shocked by the quality of the food, Darlin’ moaned out a thank you to Sam for buying all this food.

(Sam get your mind out of the gutter and get your friend under control.)

Swallowing the food, they continued with the story. “So, I don’t know why, but my cousin was obsessed with me also havin’ a southern accent. So he-” They started to chuckle at the memory. Chuckles turned to full blown laughter to Darlin’ clutching their stomach in pain. It had been a while since they let out a laugh this loud, but it felt good to not contain themselves for once.

“Sounds like a good story if you can’t tell it without laughin’.” Adoration in his eyes, he kept looking at Darlin’. They didn’t notice it, too busy keeping themselves from choking on the food they just ate.

Finally calming down and completely breathless, Darlin’ finished their story. “I don’t know why he did this, but he told me that all southern people end their sentences with ‘yeehaw’. So for the longest time, I always add a ‘yeehaw’ to the end of southern sentences.”

“So… Do you do that with me?”

Their silence was enough to confirm the vampire’s suspicions and send him on the table laughing.

Darlin’ gently assaulted Sam, making sure they weren’t doing serious damage, but enough to let him know that they don't appreciate his reaction. In all honesty they weren’t completely against this reaction. For as long as Darlin’ known Sam, he wouldn’t let a smile slip on his face, let alone laughter. A real shame too, Sam has such an ethereal smile and an infuriatingly melodic laugh. It wasn’t fair! Why was he so pretty when laughing at them?

(Darlin’ thinks back to their earlier thoughts. About how they’d keep people laughing at them to keep them around. Usually, it hurt to be the town’s object of ridicule and criticism, but maybe it’s a sin to keep from laughing. So perhaps they found themselves genuinely smiling along with him for the first time in ever.)

With a huff, Darlin’ says, “How dare you make fun of my naivety, Samuel? You mean and vile and vicious vampire.” They turn away from him, facing the delicious cake that he bought and hiding the stupid smile they have on their face. Come to think of it, how did Sam know to buy chocolate cake? It is one of those cakes that are universally loved, so it’s a good assumption. Yet to their knowledge, Sam only knew them as a ‘sweets disliker’. A delusional part of them wants to think that they’re so linked that he didn’t need to be told. (Or give David one less punch.)

Once Sam’s laughter finally dies down, Darlin’ turns back around and asks him, “Why the chocolate cake?” He tilted his head in confusion, yet silent to give them the room to continue. “I mean- not a lot of people know I like chocolate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “If I tell ya, promise you won’t hurt nobody?”

“No promises can be made.”

“David told me to buy you one.”

Oh, so that is one less punch for David. The fact that he remembered that weird fact about themself was a testament of how much time and change their Alpha has gone through. (And how they’ve stagnated, using their pain as a blanket to keep them from getting older.)

With a shake of their head and a childish huff, they grab the cake and a knife. “Of course he did. Fuckin’ asshole.” They moved to slice the cake, before Sam stopped them with a shit eating smile on his face. “Don’t I gotta sing you a song?”

“No you don't-”

“Happy Birthday to you.”~

Darlin’ groaned and covered their ears. The only thing that has going for him is that it's Sam singing and he's a better singer than Asher. They threw their arms up in defeat, having given up in stopping him from singing, and definitely not because they wanted to listen to his heavenly voice.

Once the performance was done, Darlin’ cut two slices of cakes, one for themselves and the vampire they love. It was simple and quiet, the perfect way to end their birthday. No performing for other people or coercion to have fun. Quinn wasn’t hovering over their shoulder taking random bites from their neck.

“You know, I’m sorry I couldn’t get a proper gift for you,” he apologized with sincerity, but that sincerity had him leaning back, avoiding a flick on his forehead from Darlin’. “What! It’s true!”

Quietly, they grabbed a pillow from their couch and started to hit him. He can’t get away for doing all of this and saying it isn’t enough. What a fool. (Oh, they want him so fucking desperately.) Darlin’ scoffed, “You have already done enough for me! What more do you wanna do?”

With a smile, he gently grabbed their wrist and moved it down, ending the tirade of pillow attacks. They were paralyzed in one spot, completely enamoured by Sam. It wasn’t a trance, they were infinitely familiar with the oppressive hold of one. This was something stronger and more personal, they felt it in their core. Technically, vampires are incapable of bridging since they are dead creatures of the night, but this was the closest either of them were going to get to. Sam raised a hand to place on their cheek, thumb rubbing the scar under their eye. Almost like he could heal every scar and mark on their body, no matter how deep and violating they may be.

He leaned over, whispering in their ear, “All I want to give you…”

“Is a goddamn sense of preservation.”

“Oh, you ASSHOLE!”

The sounds of Sam’s laughter, Darlin’s cursing, a vampire zipping around and a wolf shifting were coming from their shitty apartment. For the first time, Dahlia has felt like home.

(David, Asher, Milo and their mates left when they heard the sounds of joy coming from the wolf’s little home. It was best not to disturb the two while they’re having fun. The pack can always throw a belated party for them.)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #lets play a game #which stories are real and which ones are fabricated for the fic hehehehe #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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