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adhdeancas · 3 years

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@hell-is-where-the-party-is you convinced me.

This is: Dean tries to give himself top surgery in a motel bathroom.

TW: gore, performing surgery on yourself, dysphoria, mild suicidal ideation

Disclaimer: DO NOT DO THIS. THIS IS A HORRIBLE IDEA DO NOT DO THIS. (I am not a doctor so I don’t even know how bad of an idea this is, I used my imagination and some research.)

For the record, Dean knows this is a bad idea. He does.

"Okay, okay shit. You can do this. Fuck." he mutters, shaking his hands out and hoping some of the nerves will go with them. They don't, which is just his fucking luck. He shoves his jeans to the floor with his socks and hesitates. Okay, boxers stayed on. He can afford to ruin a pair of boxers. Better that than be totally exposed when he does this.

His first top layer comes off easy, the second less so, but he takes it off too. Then he pulls off his sports bra, wincing a little at the tenderness. When you wear a sports bra all day every day, no matter how comfortable it was when you first put it on, it cuts into you like your own personally molded armpit knife after a while. And then he is shirtless, and he is actually doing this.

"You can do this, Dean." he doesn't even wanna look down. "A little bit of pain, and then you never have to do it again. Flat chest. How it should be." he lets himself imagine it, just for a second. Opening his eyes and leaning in to look in that dusty mirror and lifting up his shirt to see smooth, flat skin looking back sat him. Fuck, it's a dream. "Okay, damnit."

Dean crawls into the tub and braces his back against the grimy wall. He'd done all the boring-ass research he could, the musty medical textbooks suddenly seeming a whole lot more interesting with a goal in mind, sanitized all the surfaces even though there were decades of motel living caked under the alcohol coating. A swig of whiskey for luck, a belt in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue (or scream, he can't wake Sammy up), and he starts.

"Lidocaine spread to all affected areas," he chants to himself quietly. His voice is too fucking high. "All affected areas," he corrects with an artificially lowered tone, squeezing his eyes shut. He can do this. Hell, he's helped his dad hunt, he's seen dead bodies and he's done his share of patching up his dad's injuries. He can do this. He waits until he can't feel the poke of his knife against his skin, then takes a breath. "A few minutes of pain and then- and then- you're fucking free."

Dean plunges the knife into his skin. It hurts immediately, the lidocaine not enough, blinding fuckin pain, but he tears across with his knife before he can think about it, a jagged line on his left. The blood pours down his stomach and soaked into his boxers, and Dean is crying like a little girl. He can hear his own sobs through the belt, but he keeps going, because he started this. A similar line on the other side, and more blood. Dean isn't one to get woozy at the sight of blood, but seeing so much come out of him makes him feel like he is going to die in this dingy motel bathroom. He digs the knife in and saws, feels himself biting into the cheap leather of the belt. Better to die having tried to live.

What medical textbooks can't tell you is how the fat grips onto the skin, onto the muscle, and tearing it away isn't like sawing it off a piece of raw chicken, because every pull tears at your core like you're ripping your chest to ribbons. His chest fights to stay on him, and he fights to cut it off.

"Dean?"

Dean swears and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see. He's not done. He's not close to done. "If you gotta pee, do it somewhere else!" he shouts, voice muffled from the belt hanging from his lips.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Sammy sounds so small. Dean swears. He can't die in this filthy-ass tub. He can't do that to Sam. He can't leave him with their dad and the memory of finding his big brother in the tub with one tit lying in the drain. "Great, fucking, go-" he tries to take the next chunk off while he's still talking, to distract himself from it. It doesn't work. He faints. It's only for a few seconds, but a few seconds are all Sam needs to get worried enough that Dean can hear his stupid small little feet running on the thin carpeting.

"Dean!"

Dean doesn't know what Sam expects him to do. He doesn’t know what he thinks is happening in here. "Sam, I'm fine, please don't-" his voice is too weak to reach across the three feet to the door, let alone beyond.

He knows he's only got a few seconds before he blacks out again. He can see it building on the corners of his vision, black spots turning to clouds. So he rips at his flesh viciously, like it's something that's not him, because it's not, and because he can't live with it anymore. It's a tumor and it's clinging underneath his skin and his tears aren't because of the knife but because of the desperate need to get it out.

"Dean," Sammy gasps. He's jimmied the lock because of course he has, and he's standing there with his spindly pre-teen body, eyes big as the moon. "What did you-"

"What does it look like, Sammy," Dean mutters weakly. The black threatens to overtake him, but he tries to stay above it for Sammy. He winks out once or twice, but he tries.

"Dean, we gotta- we gotta get you to a hospital." Sam breathes, worry seeping through his every gesture. He tugs the knife out of Dean's hand, which lets go too easily, and he prop's his big brother's head up. "Dean, look at me. Look at me. You're gonna be okay, okay? We're gonna go to the hospital and they're gonna fix you up-"

"No, Sammy, please, we don't have the money, and Dad doesn't have the- the time, we'll get CPS called on us, no Sammy, no hospitals,"

"Dean, you've lost blood. You, you're cut up pretty bad." Sam's voice shakes. He tries to take in the damage.

"What if they… what if they try to put it back?" Dean whispers, his voice creeping into the high register he hates as his throat closes up in fear and tears. "Sam, please, I can't,"

Sam's crying too now. The kid's fucking terrified. "Okay."

"Just- gimme, gimme the knife." Dean hates to say it. He doesn't want the slick knife back in his hand or the roiling pain back with every saw.

Sam doesn't give him the knife. "You're in too much pain."

"Well no shit, I cut my fucking chest open!" He tries to sit up to take the knife from him and gasps so hard the belt falls from his mouth.

"Dean, this isn't working. You'll never get through it," Sam's voice takes on that hard tone that a 12 year old just shouldn't have, the one that reminds Dean he's more capable than he or his dad give him credit for. He's problem solving. He lays the knife down on the tile and pushes himself to his feet. "I promise no hospitals, but you have to let me sew you up."

Dean shakes his head. It makes him dizzy. "No, I'm not done."

"This won't work, Dean! Fuck!" Sam covers his face with his hands. Now that he's cussing, Dean knows he's serious. "Bobby. We'll get Bobby to help. He's dug bullets out of Dad before."

Dean bites his lip. A bullet in a shoulder is a lot different than fat out of a chest, but to be fair, Dean's had even less experience. And to be honest, no more pain sounds pretty good right now. "Promise?"

"We'll start driving tomorrow."

John's still a state over on a hunt, and he's alone, which means he'll spend at least three extra days there getting drunk off his ass. It could work. "Okay."

Sam lets out a relieved breath. "Okay good."

"Then hand me the bottle on the counter."

Sam picks up the white pill bottle, any prescription long since rubbed off. "What is it?"

Dean grins a nervous lopsided grin. "Percocet?" Pretty easy to get on the road, if you knew who to go to. And hunters always did.

Sam just shakes his head and throws it at him. He leaves and comes back while Dean dry-swallows the pills, holding floss and their stitching needle. Dean silently thanks any sorry Greater Power out there that he doesn't have to sew himself up with the fishhook he'd snagged for the occasion. "Hold still." he commands, and it's dumb the way he's so young and so demanding at the same time. Dean would make a joke but he for once doesn't feel like being a smartass, so he just leans against the tub and focuses on the feel of the plastic at his back, tacky with his sweat.

Sam helps Dean shower after that, letting him lean on his shoulder as he stands next to him full clothed and lets the water wash the blood down the drain. It's only when he's putting Dean in bed that Dean actually talks again. "Hey bitch," he mutters, flapping his hand. Sam returns to his side, still eyeing the stiches to make sure he doesn't rip them out. So far, they've held. "You'd make a pretty good nurse."

Sam rolls his eyes and squeezes Dean's hand. He knows that's his way of saying thank you. "Shut up and get some sleep, jerk."

"Yes, ma'am."

It's the only time Sam can remember in his whole childhood that Dean lets him drive Baby without even trying to argue that he can make it to Bobby's himself.

#my writing #trans dean #dean winchester #ficlet #tw: gore #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: dysphoria

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fanficteen · 4 years

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Old Friend

deucalion x reader

“(Y/N)?” Rafael’s voice crackled on the other end of the phone. “McCall?” “I need your help.” Sirens whirled in the background. “You what?” “There’s a hunting problem.” That cleared absolutely nothing up. “I’m an author, not a cop, McCall.” “At the shipyard,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard you. “Remember I told you about the Hale attack?” “McCall,” you heard, muffled, on the other end of the phone. “Name’s a little too close to home, ain’t it, Ferrell?” “Please.” The line went dead. “Hale attack? That was a fire.” Your heart plummeted in your chest. “Hunters.” You scrambled for the door, not even bothering to lock it as you ran. You’d heard about them coming, heard about the new pack, the True Alpha. Hell, you’d even helped once or twice, when Melissa or Argent called you in. But you hadn’t made the connection between McCall and Scott McCall, the tiny, chubby little kid you’d looked after while his mom worked.

Guns were already firing when you reached the shipyard, and someone was crawling for cover. Or, trying too. He was far too old to be Scott, even as his eyes flashed red, claws extending to drag him across the ground. Three teenagers were scattered around the yard, another man crouched behind a steel beam. You waited, as the Hunters moved forward. Then the barrage ceased, though they kept their guns raised. You launched forward, then, and cut off three from the back with ease. You grabbed a fourth by the throat and tossed him into another, finally drawing their attention to you, as you managed to grab the wounded wolf and bolt in their confusion. “Made a new friend, Scott?” That voice sent chills down your spine, blood-soaked memories clawing their way from the pit of your mind. Your parents – human parents, dead on the floor, just for protecting you. “Just in time to bury them.” You swept through the group to the woman speaking, throwing her to the ground. She spun to look at you, as she landed, but you were already moving, surging towards her. Through the corner of your eye, you caught sight of one of her hunters moving towards the stone column, where Scott was crouched, and you changed courses, knowing you wouldn’t get there in time. Then an engine revved, and suddenly there was a Jeep spearing into the shipyards and the Hunter went flying from the impact. You felt a bullet shatter your shoulder and growled, turning back towards Monroe as two new faces joined the fight. She glanced at you, then behind her, and took off for her car, her men following behind her. Half of you wanted to go after her, but Scott needed you more than you needed revenge. Scott’s pack soon grouped up around where he was struggling, vainly, to stem the blood flow of the wounded man. You pushed him aside, lightly, kneeling in his place. The man ignored you, still focused on Scott. Something about Gerard and knowing he couldn’t win. His breath cut off. “It’s really started, hasn’t it?” None of them stopped you, but you could feel them staring as you leaned forward, eyes flashing black, as you buried your claws in the back of his neck. “Hey!” The late werewolf – a Hale – grabbed Scott’s arm as he protested. “She’s a Grim,” he breathed, as the man’s flashed open and he gasped for breath. “She just – she just brought him back from the dead, right?” Stiles asked, jaw dropped. “I’m not insane?” “She just brought him back from the dead,” the redhead agreed. “He wasn’t quite dead,” you corrected, immediately darting out of the way as the man swung onto his hands and knees, choking in mouthfuls of air.

“Who – wait, (Y/N)?!” “It’s been a while, pup.” He stared as you rubbed the back of your neck, awkwardly. “Pretty impressive pack you’ve gathered. A handful of Hales, a Banshee, another Alpha…” You glanced at Stiles. “…the Sheriff’s son. Very human, very smart. You’re taking good care of him, right?” You carefully placed your foot on the wounded man’s back as he moved to stand. He swung his head around to glare. “Sorry, but you should stay down there, sir.” “Gonna introduce us, Scott?” the late Hale prompted. “Oh! Yeah, sorry,” Scott gestured between you and the pack, “Everyone, this is (Y/N). She used to babysit me as a kid. I did not know she was supernatural. (Y/N), this is Derek, Peter, Malia, Lydia, and you know Stiles.” You tilted your head, surreptitiously, towards the recovering wolf. “That’s Deucalion.” “He’s who?” you questioned, earning a half-hearted laugh from the man on the ground. “Can I get up, now?” he requested, lightly, his voice still rough around the edges. You hesitated, then offered your hand. “You have to let me help you, though.” He glanced from your hand to your face, then sighed and took it, letting you help him to his feet, supporting his aching body. “Nice to meet you, oh Mr Demon Wolf, Destroyer of Worlds, pep-talker of my favourite kid.” He chuckled, lowly. “Nice to meet you, Miss Death-Defier, Beacon Hills’ Grim, babysitter of the True Alpha.” The others were all staring at you, wide-eyed, when you both looked back at them. “We should leave.” “I want to take him to Deaton,” you added, as they all nodded. He sighed, and you all waited for him to protest. “What?” he challenged, letting you help him towards your car, “I’d rather see the Druid than die.”

The roar echoed through the school, reverberating in your chest – pain, anger, hurt. “Scott?!” Before you could take off, Deucalion grabbed your arm. “You don’t know how to fight it.” “Scott’s hurt!” “He’ll be more hurt if you’re dead.” You sighed, but nodded, mutely. “Let me go ahead.” He offered you his hand. “Unless I squeeze your hand, don’t open your eyes. It knows how to trick us.” “Don’t you need that?” You glanced at his hand, and he offered you a lopsided smirk. “If I do, I’ll just throw you with my punch.” You snorted, but took his hand anyway. “Give me some warning, I’ll even put my claws out and actually make myself useful.”

“Bobby?!” The Coach spun at the sound of your voice. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you hurt?” “Just looking after my players,” he answered, brightly. You raised an eyebrow. “Some asshole thought he could get away with touching my boys outside my office. I mean, sure, Jackson and Ethan aren’t my team anymore, but they’re still –” “Bobby, are they okay?” “What? Of course,” he huffed, folding his arms. “I hit him with a lacrosse stick.” Deucalion raised an eyebrow. “Not all of us have fangs and claws.” Then he paused for a moment. “Hang on, you’re the asshole–“ “Coach?” You heard a clatter in the nearby entrance hall, as Scott appeared, but just surged towards him. Deucalion headed for the noise. Blood still stained around his eyes but he smiled, offering a soft laugh, as you checked him over. “I’m fine.” “You blinded yourself?” Horror coursed through you. “He what?” Bobby demanded. Jackson and Ethan appeared, from the same direction Bobby had come. Ethan did a double take, but Deucalion held up his hands in surrender, and the boy approached, warily. “Coach, why are you here?” Stiles questioned, still entirely bewildered. “He just saved us,” Ethan admitted, making Derek raise an eyebrow. “Malia?” Peter crashed through the doors behind them. “Malia– you’re okay.” The girl in question smiled, brightly, crushing her father into a hug. Peter froze. Derek kicked Stiles before he could snicker. “Coach saved you?” Stiles asked, returning his attention to the boys. “No need for that tone, Stilinski.” “He beat a hunter unconscious with a lacrosse stick,” Jackson explained, and Stiles’ jaw dropped further. “Wait, do you know about this, Coach?” Scott asked, brows furrowed. “Of course I know. That’s my sister fussing over you.” “She’s your what?” “I’m adopted,” you assured the baffled teenagers.

Deucalion cleared his throat, summoning your attention. He held up Monroe by her collar. “She’s still alive.” “You won’t kill me,” she sneered, “McCall won’t let you.” “McCall’s not my Alpha,” Deucalion responded, eyes flashing red. “Yet you still deferred to him.” Deucalion snarled, but looked back to Scott. “This is your territory, Scott.” The boy hesitated. “But it’s a war for all of us.” They hadn’t even seen you moving before her heart dropped to the floor. “(Y/N)?!” “What the hell?!” Deucalion didn’t speak through the teenaged chorus, just discarded the body, unceremoniously, curious gaze fixed on your face. “A woman after my own heart.” Malia elbowed Peter, cutting off his muttering. “Was that her?” A sob tore from your throat at Bobby’s question, raw and ragged, but you nodded. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your brother, or at Scott, afraid of what you would see there. So you just held Deucalion’s gaze, as if begging him to understand… something. Anything. Even you weren’t sure what. The man was a killer, after all. You didn’t need to justify yourself to him. You could hear Bobby explaining, behind you, but still didn’t dare look back. You flinched when Deucalion finally broke the impasse by taking a step forward, but didn’t move away. He continued forward, slowly, until he had closed the distance between you, a warm hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” The question was stiff, awkward, but you couldn’t say you expected any different. Before you even registered what you were doing, you slumped forward, burying your head in his chest. He went stiff for a moment, but you soon felt his arms inch around you, one hand coming to your hair. Your sobs began to fade, breathing falling into sync with the soothing fingers trailing through your hair. “Am I seeing this right– ow, Derek!” A low growl rumbled from Deucalion’s chest, vibrating through your body, and Stiles fell silent. With a shuddering breath, you pulled away and looked up to meet the eyes of the Alpha of Alphas. He raised an eyebrow, but his expression was gentle. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “You just single-handedly destroyed a well-manicured, decades-old reputation.” There was no anger in his voice. “I think you did that when you started practicing pacifism,” Peter drawled, making both Scott and Deucalion glare at him. He shrugged, but didn’t try to take it back. “Can I suggest we leave?” Lydia piped up, quietly. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with a shower.” She looked down at her dust-covered hands, the stains of blood and sweat on her clothes. Murmurs of agreement followed, and you all headed for the doors. “Scott, if you see your father, tell him I’ll be by tomorrow.” Scott raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I just magically realised you were about to die, did you?” You didn’t bother listening to their mumbled responses, just made a beeline for your car. “Call me tonight!” Bobby shouted after you. You waved your agreement.

#pack mom reader #tw past trauma #tw parent death #tw murder #deucalion x reader #deucalion #teen wolf deucalion #teen wolf #coach finstock #bobby finstock #adopted!reader #adopted!finstock!reader #tw violence #tw gore #tamora monroe #coach is secretly soft #tw guns #tw injury #tw major injury

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shall-we-imagine · 4 years

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Together we go. (Werewolf!Caesar Raphael x Reader *AU*)

Lol it's never late to request I'm always late to write tho

Requested: 34. "Please don't do this." + 45. "I can't imagine this world without you." From this prompt list.

Genre: Raw angst 😂💯 happy ending though cuz I’m weak

Strap yourselves in cuz this is dramatic as shit and also I’m lowkey rusty sooooo yeah 😂

(First point of view)

Everytime our eyes meet, my insides twist in guilt. I can barely hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds.

“Can we please get some ice cream first?” Caesar gives me his usual puppy eyes- aka the most effective puppy eyes one could ever encounter. I can almost see his tail wagging behind him in excitement.

I giggle at the cute nature of the scene. “Of course.”

He grins, immediately grabbing my arm and rushing to the ice cream truck. I do my best to keep up with him and not break my face on the asphalt.

It was Caesar’s first time at a theme park, and he was overflowing with happiness to say the least; he genuinely resembled a large puppy.

Though Caesar always insists that the puppy/dog comparisons I make are only because I knew of his identity, I'm pretty sure it's way beyond the fact that he's a werewolf. Caesar just behaves like an oversized puppy, whether he believes it or not.

"Mmhm! It's so good!" Caesar's eyes widened at the sweet flavour of his chocolate ice cream. Part of me was worried he'd collapse and I'd have to rush him to the hospital, but from the looks of it, werewolves can apparently eat chocolate. "How's yours?" He smiled at me. God that smile kills me.

"O-oh, it's nice!" I took the spoon into my mouth, unnecessarily trying to prove my statement.

His stare lingered, but before I could ask him about it, he sheepishly spills out a question. "Can I..um..can I try it?" He pointed to the paper cup in my hand.

Giggling in awe, I immediately scooped up the ice cream into my plastic spoon. "Sure." I moved my hand closer to him, expecting him to take the spoon, but instead, he leaned his head closer, taking the spoon into his mouth directly. My cheeks heat up at the small gesture, and I subconsciously start looking around to make sure we haven't attracted anyone's attention.

"Oh! It's really good too! What is this one?" Caesar's eyes gleam in fascination, as if discovering a whole new world, which in a way he was. He'd already explained how strict the pack is about interacting with humans and their world, hence his isolation from the pack after violating that rule. To be with me. And there I was, refusing to give up my group's approval.

"(Y/N)? Why do you keep zoning out today? Is something wrong?" His eyebrows furrow in concern, further engraving the guilt onto my heart.

"I'm just a little tired; don't worry about it." I do my best to give him a reassuring smile, but I suspect that only made him even more worried. "Come on, let's get in line for the ferris wheel." I pull him towards the giant ride.

Caesar stares upwards, "Woah."

"You're not scared of heights, are you?" I smile.

"I've never been that high before," he points to the top of the wheel, "but it does look a bit scary."

"Don't worry; it'll be fun." I take his hand in mine, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze.

By the time we reach the front of the line, we were both done with our ice cream and were just anticipating the ride.

The blond helps you onto the wobbly cabin and climbs inside after you're seated.

The second the small doors shut behind him, the colourful cabin moves upwards, causing Caesar to lose balance. He screams and drops to the ground, curling into a ball in fear.

I softly place a hand on his shoulder, "Caesar, it's fine. It...does that." I chuckle.

His expression softens. Sure enough, he lets me help him off the floor and onto the seat, where he's finally able to take a look at the view beneath us.

His beautiful green eyes widen in admiration, "It's not scary at all. It's very...pretty...just like you." He turns to smile at me, but I immediately avert my gaze shyly.

He takes my hand in his, "I love being with you; you make me happy."

The sincere look in his eyes drew me in, and before I knew it, my bottom lip starts quivering. "I- yeah, me too."I gulp, gluing my eyes elsewhere. I could no longer hold his gentle gaze.

Silence follows for a few moments.

Softly taking place beneath my chin, fingertips guide my face towards their owner, "(Y/N)? Why won't you look at me?" His concerned gaze almost burns holes in my face.

I let out a nervous laugh and take his hand in mine, "What do you mean? I'm just enjoying the view. Look; you can see the ocean from here!"

Caesar forces a weak smile, "Yeah, it's nice."

________

"(Y/N), are you sure we're not lost? I can't hear any cars ahead of us..." After walking through the woods for a bit, Caesar starts getting suspicious about whether we're actually using a shortcut to the bus station.

Hesitation and guilt take turns abusing my mind and heart. "Y-yes, Caesar. Just keep following me." I try to control my breathing rate and calm down.

The closer I get to the spot, the heavier my feet feel, the harder it is to push myself forward. "I can't do this." I drop to the ground and pull out my pocket knife.

"What do you mea-(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing?!" His statement was cut off by his own terrified yell. He drops to the ground and tries to pull away my weapon.

Having already dug the sharp edge into my forearm, I was disappointed by how difficult it is to actually find the tracking device. "Tracking device, Caesar! They'll find us; I need to take it out!" I kick the blond away, as I continue to search through my own flesh for the tiny device. The pain was unbearable, but it wouldn't compare to losing Caesar.

Blood dripped everywhere, making it even harder to see. "Fuck." I pant.

"It's not working." Tears hinder my vision, "Caesar, get out of here! As quick as you can!" The confusion on his face screamed in my face that it's my fault- all of it. "Please..." my voice cracks.

"No, (Y/N), I'm not going anywhere without you. Who are we running from? What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything!" He snatches the knife away and stuffs it in his pocket, the blood making a mess of his clothes in the process.

I push him away with my uninjured arm, "There's no time; please, just leave." Desperation hung at every word, yet he remained unmoved.

"Get up. We're leaving together." He tries to help me up, but I pull my arm away.

"They'll track us down, Caesar! The device is still in there!" I yell. "Please, I'm begging you; just leave before it's too late." I push him again, but he doesn't budge.

"(Y/N), we either leave together or die together; I'm not going anywhere without you whether you like it or not." The serious expression on his face is one I've never seen on him before; he's determined and stubborn, and I knew it.

I shake my head, "No, Caesar, you don't understand; I-"

"Was supposed to kill me, but you felt guilty; I know." He finished my statement, leaving me in a state of shock and shame.

"How- what? You know?" Realizing his lack of resistance, I fall into more confusion, "Well...why did you follow me here? You didn't know I'd feel guilty; I could've killed you!"

"But you didn't." Smirking, he shrugs.

"Caesar, I'm serious..." I stare at him with pleading eyes.

He sighs, "Well, I figured if the person I love the most wants to kill me then that's it; that's how I go."

"You came with me knowing you'll die?!" I cry.

"Well, I had hope you'd change your mind; I knew the love I'd felt with you wasn't fake. I felt your love...And well, I dunno about you humans, but wolves don't go killing wolves they love." He chuckles. "And if you'd killed me, well, I'd still choose that over escaping. I can't imagine this world without you."

"You're such a dumbass." I laugh lightly, but my smile drops at the sight of of something hitting Caesar’s neck.

And before I realize what's happening, He is hyperventilating as he grasps his neck, eyes terrifyingly wide; if I dIdn't know better, I'd think he was choking himself.

I rip out the tiny needle from his neck in panic, but it doesn't stop him from gasping for air, drool trickling down his chin uncontrollably. His eyes start to roll back, but he seems to be trying to hold onto what's left of his conscious mind, "Caesar! Caesar, stay with me!" Sobbing, I begin to shake him violently, but it takes mere moments before he drops to the ground.

The sound of footsteps slowly approaching hammers realization into my terrified brain, "W-why?"

"Girl, he's not dead yet; he's temporarily paralyzed." Kate rolls her eyes, but a warning follows through gritted teeth, "We're making the killing easier for you, so don't make this any harder for us."

"He's not a monster..." I shake my head, desperately pleading for his life, "He doesn't even belong to a pack; he's harmless!"

"Take out your knife, (Y/N)." She warns while the rest of the hunters watch me expectantly.

I look down at Caesar, whose eyes barely held any life in them. No way is he getting up any time soon, and my left arm has already gone limp. We stood no chance. This is it; this is how we die. And it's all my fault.

More warnings follow, but my eyes spot a tall man hiding nearby; he was clearly watching the conflict unfold.

When our eyes met, he put his index finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet, which I do. I was gonna die anyway; I have nothing to lose, listening to random forest man.

Smirking at my obedience, he gracefully spreads his hand open in the direction of the hunters.

Within a second, they all drop their weapons to clutch their head in their hands, blocking their ears like they couldn't stand a very loud sound. A loud sound you can't hear.

Eventually they all fall to the ground, hands still covering their ears. That's when the stranger decides to step out of his hiding spot.

He slowly makes his way towards me and Caesar. I don't know if it's the blood I've lost or the intense gaze of the man, but everything begins spinning before going completely black.

________

"Did you hear me?! I said shoot him!" Kate screams.

Confusion consumes my every inch, "W-what?"

"Are you deaf?" She holds up her gun, aiming at my head. "Shoot him."

I slowly turn to look at where she motioned with a slight tilt of her chin. My shaky hands were clutching a gun aimed at a terrified Caesar on the ground. "Caesar?"

"Please, don't do this." Trembling, he shakes his head. "I love you. I would never hurt you; you know that." His teary eyes were hypnotizing; I couldn't look away for a reason I couldn't explain. I just stood still- and stared.

“I...I don’t understand...” I lower the gun I knew I didn’t even have on me before.

“Please, I’m begging you.” Caesar pleads.

I observe my surroundings in utter bewilderment. The number of hunters bacame overwhelmingly threatening; I didn’t know there were that many of them. So many faces I couldn’t recognize.

Before I could plan my next move, the sound of a gun shot rips through the air.

My head snaps towards Caesar. His fear-stricken, watery eyes stare back into mine lifelessly.

My lips quiver, as I scan his body for the wound.

Till I found it where I didn’t expect to.

Hot, thick liquid trickles down my face, blurring my vision in the process. My fingers reach for my forehead, allowing me a chance at comprehending the situation.

I’d been shot.

As if the realization was my cue, I watch everything spin out of focus till I completely lose consciousness.

_________

I gasp, immediately shooting out of bed, almost slamming my head against the stranger’s.

“Jeez, the potion sure is quick.” The man mumbles to himself.

“Potion?” I wipe my forehead, just to see a gooey, yellow substance dripping off my fingers. It was a dream?

“(Y/N)!” I find myself engulfed into a warm, tight embrace.

“Caesar.” I breathe out in relief, giving into the hug.

“Wait! The tracking device-” Before I could fully push away Caesar, the man speaks up.

“Already planted it on a rat; it’s gone forever.” He gives a smile I could only interpret as him being proud of his own intelligence.

“I don’t know how to thank you...How do I return the favor? Ask me for anything!”

“It’s a bit funny for you to think I’d need anything from you.” Seemingly offended, the man rolls his eyes and sips his tea.

“He’s a bit...uh...timid?” Caesar whispers to me, hinting he’d already tried to thank the man while I was out of it.

“I already put a healing spell on your arm; there will be no scarring, but I’d rather you keep the bandages for a few more hours.” He glances down at my bandaged arm.

“Thank you...again.” I nod. “A healing spell though...are you a wizard?” My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

The stranger sighs. “Surely you can’t be that dense.”

“I think that’s a yes.” Caesar looks at me in slight uncertainty.

Another sigh. “Azusa Kuze, wizard from Hinomoto, nice to meet you. Anything else you wanna butt into?” He uses a slightly high pitched, cheery voice to ensure we understood he was mocking us.

“Uh, no, we’re good I think.” Caesar chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“Good.” He diverts his attention to the huge book on his wooden dining table.

“Um, well, I guess we’ll be going now, right, Caesar?”

“Uh, yes. Thank you again, Mr. Hinomoto Wizard Azusa Kuze.” Caesar bows.

The wizard scowls but shakes his head dismissively “Yeah, um, you’re welcome.”

The second we step outside the small cottage, we both let out breaths we didn’t seem to know we were holding.

“Well, that was a strange day.” I state.

“Yeah.” Caesar nods. “Wanna get some more ice cream?”

I grin, “You know it.”

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mummybear · 5 years

Text

How Things Change - Part 9 - To Be Or Not To Be

Warnings: Violence, Serious Angst, Swearing. Mentions of sex and biting. Think that's it really

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Deaton, OC (Alex), Melissa McCall, and others... don’t want to spoil it, :P

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x OC (Alex)

Words: 3897

Alex growled again behind her Alpha, Scott held out his arm in front of Alex holding her back, while secretly hoping that she would stop herself. "What the hell are you two doing here? And why are you together?" The sheriff questioned from his unconscious son's bedside.

"That's a good point, why are you together?" Scott questioned stepping closer to the pair still in the doorway, with Alex hot on his heels. She didn't like how she had been pushed behind Scott like some kind of wounded animal, she could protect herself now after all but there was only one person her anger was focused on.

"Come now Scott, I'm not here to fight. I thought you and I had reached an understanding" Deucalion stated with a slight smile, stepping closer until he was almost nose to nose with each other.

But Scott didn't flinch as he looked up into Deucalion's now seeing eyes, "So did I. So why did you bring him here?" Scott said with a growl, eyes glowing as he looked over the older man's shoulder, looking at the person behind him. Before he could answer Scott though, Alex had barged the pair out of the way and charged forward, practically seething as she grabbed Theo by the throat dragging him into the room and slammed him into the nearest wall.

"I'm gonna rip your throat out with my fucking teeth. You complete piece of shit" Alex spat as her claws began sinking into the skin of his throat.

"Oh, I love it when you get feisty!" Theo chuckled, not even bothering to struggle in her grip.

"Good, I'm so pleased!" Alex replied sarcastically as her voice dropped and she continued, "Once you're dead I plan on going after the rest of your good for nothing pack! Starting with your bitch" Alex snarled her grip tightening further, only briefly aware of the raised chatter going on behind her.

Then she heard the only voice in the world that could make her stop, "Lexi?" he asked, voice still croaking and dry. Alex dropped Theo to the floor without a second thought, leaving him in a pile on the floor, to catch his breath. She quickly ran over to Stiles, who had collapsed onto the floor beside his bed.

Scott grabbed hold of Theo and turned him onto his front pinning him to the ground, holding his arms behind his back with one of Scott's knees in the bottom of his back. Scott held him still the best he could, as Chris got him into some werewolf proof handcuffs. The hunter and Deaton left the hospital room, dragging a resistant Theo along with them promising to be back soon.

Alex pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles' lips, her breathing faltering finally seeing him awake, completely in awe of him her hands gently roamed his face, still struggling to believe he had woken up. By some miracle, It had actually worked.

"What am I? Your grandmother?" Stiles chuckled sarcastically, his voice still raw and scratchy.

She smiled a small smile despite herself, her teary eyes flicking up to meet his gorgeous golden brown eyes, for what felt the first time in forever.

Stiles cupped her cheeks in his hands and pulled her lips to his. Alex quickly smiled into the kiss, shifting to sit between his legs and suddenly it felt like they were the only people in the room, they could no longer hear the mindless chatter around them, only hear and see each other. Stiles slipped his tongue between her lips, and Alex found herself sighing happily. Threading her fingers through those dark thick locks of his.

Stiles growled low in the back of his throat, gripping onto her hips tightly and pulled her body against his. Alex couldn't stop the whimper of his name against his lips if she tried.

"Should we leave?" Melissa chuckled looking around the room.

"We can't, we all need to talk. This can't wait any longer" Scott sighed, walking over to the couple seemingly in their own world.

"They don't look like they're in a very chatty mood" his mother replied simply as Deaton entered the room again.

Scott placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, "No! Don't!" the veterinarian tried to warn, but it was too late. The second that Scott's hand made contact Stiles snapped away from Alex, and launched himself at his best friend.

Before anyone could stop him Stiles had Scott pinned to the floor by his throat, "Don't you fucking touch her" Stiles snarled, spittle flying from his lips as his eyes glowed bright gold.

Deaton approached the newly turned werewolf with practised caution, making sure to speak quietly, "Stiles, you need to calm down. You know Scott would never hurt Alex" Deaton tried to reason, stepping a little closer Scott kept his arms raised not wanting to provoke Stiles any further than he already had, knowing that to many people could get hurt.

"Only one person can stop him from ripping Scott's throat out" Deucalion revealed carefully, placing a hand on Deaton's shoulder, and he turned his eyes to look at Alex who had already started approaching the pair.

After she had finally finished holding the sheriff back, assuring him that she could handle this without anyone getting hurt. "Stiles baby let him go, this isn't you. We don't need to be turning on our pack, not now" Alex said carefully, knowing it was probably just his emotions messing with him. Alex gently cupped his cheek, her eyes glowing just like his as he turned to look at her, her other hand wrapped around one of his wrists just as gently.

Stiles shook himself and immediately looked guilty, and he flicked his eyes between Scott under him and Alex beside him, practically jumping off of Scott, throwing himself against the wall behind them.

Alex was back by his side in seconds, "I-I don't. I don't understand what's happening to me" Stiles stuttered, a tear rolling down his bright red cheek his head dropped forward onto his knees as more tears began to fall, as he sank his hands into his hair tugging hard.

Alex crawled in front of him cupping his face in her hands and forced him to look at her again, she was practically able to see his muscles tense beneath his t-shirt at the grip he had one his hair. When their eyes finally met again, he looked away almost straight away looking anywhere but at her, "Get back Lexi please, just get away from me. I don't want to hurt you too" he practically sobbed, pushing himself as far away from her as he could.

"Hey don't say that, look its okay we-" Alex tried but Stiles didn't give her chance to finish or touch him again, because he had already pushed himself to his feet and was sprinting out of the room, barging everyone out of the way.

But Alex was quick to her feet and sprinting after him, the others weren't far behind either. She didn't wait for Scott's suggestions of where he was going, as the people in the hospital blocked their path.

She just ran unsure of where he was going, the rain was coming down, hard and fast. Alex knew the rain would quickly wash away their scent, so nobody would be able to follow them soon. She barely even registered how fast her legs were moving, but it was like she just knew where she was going. Like her body gravitated towards his.

Suddenly Alex realised that she had run into the woods a little while ago, she was further in than she had ever remembered being before, screaming his name as she continued to run.

Something stopped her in an empty space, void of trees or bushes, there was just dust, darkness and a steady heartbeat. But she couldn't be sure if it was her own or not. Not until a sudden growl caught her attention from behind her,

Alex turned towards the noise quickly, her teeth bared and her eyes glowing when a familiar voice surprised her. "I thought I told you to stay away from me" Stiles growled low, sounding a little more menacing than she was used to, reminding her more of void than her Stiles.

He emerged from behind a nearby tree walking towards the dead space she was currently standing in, "Oh yeah! And since when are you, my boss, exactly?!" Alex spat back, becoming a little more defensive the closer he got.

Stiles chuckled darkly at that, the phone she had dropped on the ground was lighting the space around her a little. One of the only reasons she could see him with using her other eyes.

Stiles began circling her like a predator would its prey, keeping their eye contact the entire time. "I bet you love it when he touches you, don't you Alex?" Stiles snarled, levelling her with a look that sent a shiver up her spine.

She was momentarily shocked by his statement, "Wait what Scott?" she questioned in disbelief before continuing, "Are you fucking serious with this shit Stiles!? Is dickhead Stiles back now then, why because you're jealous?!" Alex laughed humourlessly.

He laughed again seemingly closer than before, "No, not jealous baby girl. I just think Scott needs to learn not to touch, especially when he's touching what doesn't belong to him" Stiles growled possessively.

Alex sucked in a breath when she felt those long warm fingers gripping one of her hips tightly, she felt the fingers of his other hand brushing across her neck. Making her whimper despite herself, his lips brushing her ear when her head dropped back onto his shoulder. "You're mine" Stiles breathed hotly against her neck, making her skin prickle with goosebumps.

She wanted with everything she had to stay in his arms forever, but Suddenly she remembered, pulling out of his hold she turned around to face him, shoving his chest hard with both of her hands and tears in her eyes, "No! You don't get to do this to me! Not after everything that has happened" Alex practically screamed, memories of the last few days flooding her mind.

Stiles sighed, opening his mouth to speak but Alex silenced him with another shove to the chest, "No don't! Don't you dare make excuses Stiles, you're not the only one going through this! This is new to me too, but you keep doing this! Ever since we first met and its only getting worse. We almost fucking lost each other on the same day! But still, you keep going and pushing me away. Then you make me think we've finally gotten through the shit, continuously you push me away. I'm such an idiot, you pull me back in and I come running every single time, without fail, well I've finally had enough" Alex started almost screaming at him, but it quickly changed until she was almost sobbing at the end.

"Fine! You win! Does it make you feel better, congratulations, you're right as usual, and yes I fucked up okay, I know I did! But this isn't all on me, you go off and almost get yourself killed! And just expect me to sit back and deal with it, and it was probably the hardest thing you have ever asked me to do. But I did it, and then you stop me from telling you. You know what I was gonna say, you didn't wanna hear just how much I'm completely, and totally pathetically in love with you!" Stiles cried out, tears streaming down his face now too as he got in Alex's face again.

Alex swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in her throat, finding that she suddenly forgot how to speak, instead, when she tried she just ended up muttering words that sounded like complete nonsense, in hopes that she could conjure up a coherent sentence.

"You know what sweetheart, forget it. I'm getting kind of used to rejection by now anyway" he laughed humorlessly as he turned to leave.

Alex's brain finally caught up to her body and mouth, she grabbed onto his arm stopping him from leaving, "Don't go, Stiles, please. Not like this" Alex begged him, her grip on him not faltering.

Stiles sighed deeply and stopped trying to get away, but he didn't turn to face her as he spoke. "Then give me a reason to stay" Stiles sighed, his shoulders sagging low. She wanted to say it, it was on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her from saying it.

"You know I do. Just come back to mine with me, please. I can't drag you into my shit anymore, not until you know everything" Alex pleaded, her voice shaking under the weight of her tears.

"Clearly not enough, if you can't even say the words" Stiles spat, pulling out of her grip and turning to face her, "Seriously, pull me in further. We're practically joined for life, and I'm in love with you! It doesn't get any fucking deeper Alex" Stiles exclaimed, as his tears continued to fall down his cheeks, he shook his head and he was gone before she could utter another word.

The look of betrayal and hurt he had on his face was the only thing she could picture, even when she closed her eyes and let the damn break. She dropped to her knees still sobbing quietly and pulled her legs against her chest, curling herself up into the fetal position.

She barely even registered the strong arms picking her up hours later, she found herself not caring who it was, or if they were there to kill her or to save her. But one thing she was sure of was that they smelled safe, she just knew that she trusted him, he was familiar, like family and pack.

Scott had been searching for Stiles for hours when he finally decided to head home for a little bit. Only to find Stiles on his doorstep, with his head in his hands leaning against his front door. "Hey man, you doing okay?" Scott asked awkwardly, not knowing what to say as he sat down beside him.

Stiles looked over at his best friend, "Honestly Scotty, I'm really not. I wish you'd just let me die" Stiles said simply, his red puffy eyes saying there was more to the story, that paired with his words only concerned Scott further.

"Don't talk like that dude, you know as well as I do, that being a werewolf isn't as bad as we first thought. We can help you get a handle on it, control it. You've got too many people who love you, and so much to live for" Scott said thoughtfully.

Stiles just scoffed, "I wish the werewolf thing was all I had to worry about buddy. But a lot of shit has happened in the last few days" Stiles sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Look, I know a lot of stuff has happened. Your emotions are off at the minute anyway, trust me, I still remember what that was like. But I'll help you just like you helped me. We can work through it, as a pack, as a family" Scott assured him, placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles finally looked at Scott, "This day can't get much worse man, first I almost get killed by a psychotic bitch, then there's the whole nearly dying thing. Only to be turned into a werewolf and attack my best friend. To top it off I tell Alex I'm in love with her, and she can't say it back for some bullshit reason. I'm so confused, it's like my whole body craves to be near her, but at the same time it's like my heart has been ripped out so who cares" Sties confessed truthfully, but their conversation was cut short when they heard footsteps heading towards them.

They both looked up almost at the same time, to find Deaton walking towards them, "Where's Alex?" Deaton question almost immediately and he sounded worried, not paying to much attention to the boys in front of him.

"Honestly, right now I don't care" Stiles huffed, though it was clear to everyone except him that he was lying, even though his face remained cold and unaffected by the mention of her name.

Deaton sighed, "Well, I need to speak to you both, its urgent" he informed the boys, but looked right at Stiles.

"I'm not interested" Stiles replied stiffly, standing up to leave.

Scott stopped him gently placing a hand on his shoulder, "Just hear him out Stiles" Scott asked seriously, but he was careful not to make any of the same mistakes he may have made earlier.

Stiles let his shoulders drop as he nodded his agreement, "Do you know about the connection you and Alex share?" Deaton asked curiously.

Stiles nodded, "Yeah I heard everything you said while I was out" Stiles revealed, Scott seemed a little shocked but stayed quiet letting them continue talking.

Deaton got over his momentary shock at the information and continued, "Okay, well there is something neither of you knows. But it would be best to speak to you together, so where was it you last saw her?" Deaton questioned, looking between the pair.

Stiles shifted awkwardly looked at his shoes, remembering just how upset she had been when he'd left her behind, and just where he had left her sank in as well.

"I, uh, well. We kinda had an argument and I left her in the woods" Stiles said, groaning at how stupid he sounded when he said it out loud.

Noticing the immediate shock on Deaton's face didn't help him feel any better, "What? What's the big deal? She's a big girl she can take care of herself, as she keeps reminding me" Stiles scoffed rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest, but even he didn't believe that.

Deaton's voice was sombre when he finally spoke up again, "Actually Stiles, yes it is a big deal. Have you two been intimate since you turned, other than the obvious at the hospital?" Deaton questioned, as he started to lead the three of them to start walking, Stiles leading Scott and Deaton to the place he had last remembered him and Alex being at.

"You mean sex? no, why?" Stiles asked while answering his own question, as he turned towards Deaton, confusion all over his face.

"I feared as much, and no bites from each other?" Deaton asked seriously, in case Stiles thought this was some kind of joke.

Stiles blushed avoiding Scott's gaze as he shook his head, but then he remembered something that had happened in the shower at Derek's, "Wait, could it have happened before I changed?" he rushed his question worriedly.

"It's certainly possible. Especially with Alex already technically being a wolf, she may have considered you hers already. Without even being aware" Deaton informed him, they all stopped walking as Deaton turned to Stiles once more.

Those words only felt more guilty, especially when he remembered what Alex had said to him in the woods before. She had already considered him hers, for how long? Then it hit him like a truck. Since they had met, she had felt like he was feeling now, since the first day they met. "Show me," Deaton asked quickly, startling Stiles a little.

"I uh, what why?" Stiles practically stuttered, looking between Scott and Deaton hoping this was a big joke. Scott was doing his best to hold back the smirk on his face, but he was failing miserably. "Don't you dare Scott!" Stiles grumbled a warning at his best friend.

"Just trust that it is important Stiles, please just show me" Deaton sighed in irritation.

"Fine!" Stiles practically shouted, pulling his shirt up slightly at the bottom while tugging the top of his jeans down a little, revealing the small mark on his hip.

"Okay, well that's nothing, any others?" Deaton said carefully, but Stiles noticed that he sounded a little relieved.

Stiles nodded shyly, kicking Scott in the shin when he heard him chuckling quietly, "Shut it Scott" Stiles growled. Before he pulled down his bottom lip, showing it to Deaton. The older man squinted a little unable to see properly, he turned Stiles into the light, and then he stiffened at the sight before him.

"That is exactly what I was afraid of. You're sure that you didn't bite her? Not since you were turned?" Deaton questioned gravely, hoping he was going to get a different answer than he was expecting.

Stiles shook his head, not missing the way Deaton's expression changed at his small action, Deaton swallowed hard meeting Stiles' eyes, "What? What is it?" Stiles asked eyes wide with panic.

"When I explain you have got to stay calm," Deaton replied carefully as he started to walk again, quickly followed by the other two, receiving a swift nod from both of them he continued.

"So as I said before, you and Alex are part of a very rare type of werewolf. The né jumelé are rare in so many ways, but one part is that they require a claim mark from their mate to function. Unfortunately in cases like yours, where only one is bitten the other becomes weaker, in this case, Alex. She will become vulnerable, it's possible although Alex didn't know what she was doing, that her wolf did. The effects will be exacerbated the longer you are separated, she may not have noticed until now. Her emotions will be going crazy soon, they find it even harder than bitten wolves to focus on reality, she will just become weaker until her body gives in. We can stop it, we just need to get you to her, but when she senses her mate after a long time she will be a little rough to say the least" Deaton explained, saying the last bit a little awkwardly, not missing the wide-open mouths of the two in front of him.

"Oh fuck, what did I do! I should have just talked like she wanted to" Stiles exclaimed in complete panic, leaving Scott and Deaton behind he started to sprint towards where she had last been.

He skidded to a halt when he came to the clearing, calling for her to no avail, and his heart hammered in his chest as he searched for her and found nothing. He sniffed the air, her scent hit him straight in the chest, still strong and smelling like everything he loved. But there was something else, or someone else but he couldn't tell who it was, being new at this probably wasn't helping him.

Scott Skidded to a stop beside him not a few minutes later, leaving Deaton to catch up, as he to started sniffing the air, Stiles looked at him hopefully, Scott was quick, catching two scents, then it occurred to him, he recognised both of them and he knew them well.

One was clearly Alex, mixed with Stiles it was almost like one person, something that Scott had never experienced before. It was one of the first scents he remembered from when he had been turned, "It's Derek" Scott mumbled, turning to look at Stiles, "She's with Derek"

Tags: @loverofwaytoomanythings618 @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters @lusyschwa @imperfect-circle @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @all-will-be-well-love

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cupnoodle-queen · 7 years

Text

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 2 Reset

1,478 words Tagging @blindbae and @nifwrites <3

Luck was empathetic that evening.

Cam reached the blockade just outside of Lestallum, easing off the gas to brake for the approaching guard, a semi-automatic rifle cradled in his arms. She expected to be denied entry, that they were booked to capacity, but he asked her why she was here and it’d taken the last reserves of her composure to grit through clenched teeth that her fiance was just killed. That she had nowhere else to go. That she had no one else.

And so after several seconds of uncomfortable silence his shrewd eyes narrowed at her, a toothpick rolling between his teeth as he turned to another guard holding a checklist, made a quick scrawl and nodded for them to open the gate.

Cam parked the truck in the lot above the overlook, pressed her head to the steering wheel and broke into a million pieces. She cried harder than she had over the past couple of years, loud screams and sobs of anger and heartbreak clamping her ribcage against her lungs. Nolan was dead. She was homeless. Three hundred gil to her name crumpled up in her pocket, an old truck running on fumes, her cellphone and the clothes on her back.

She wept for an immeasurable amount of time, exhausting herself to the point her whimpers came out in cracks, her throat raw and sore. People outside had stared as they passed by, but fuck them. When the windows fogged, it was welcome seclusion.

At some point she fell asleep, leaning against the window and letting the tears flow freely against the glass as she drifted off. The nightmares showed no sympathy, barraging her mind with images of her family home buckling under the blow of the daemon’s weapon, the lights going out one after the other, and Nolan, trapped behind the rubble…

A tapping on the glass pulled her from the torment. She’d slept all night, or at least a full night’s sleep worth; it was hard to tell the days apart, for obvious reasons. Cam blinked and wiped the condensation from the window.

A familiar face peered in and she cranked the window down. “Greyson,” she croaked, voice sandpaper against her throat. “What are you doing here?”

The husky man noticed her golden eyes were rimmed-red, puffy and raw. “Could ask you the same thing.” Worry accented his words. “When did you get here? Where’s Nolan?”

Nolan…The wounds barely clotted and hearing his name ripped them open again. Without hesitation Cam’s eyes gathered tears. She couldn’t speak, so she shook her head, the corners of her lips quivering.

“Cam, what…” But then realization, as his face softened. “No, no fucking way…”

Greyson paced away with his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose. He circled back to the driver’s side window. “I’m so so sorry, Cam. When did-”

“Last night,” She replied through her teeth, anything to keep from breaking down again. “House’s gone. Iron giant.”

“Goddammit.” Greyson scratched his patchy beard and seemed to consider something. “What’re you gonna do?”

Cam stared out the windshield. “Stay here, I guess. They always need people at the power plant-”

“Come with me to HQ,” He suggested, cutting her off by accident. “We always need people, too.”

“To replace the ones that were killed, sure.”

Greyson seemed offended. “Not necessarily. We can use the help with vendors, or provisions or-”

“I’m staying here, Greyson.” It was Cam’s turn to cut him off. “I don’t have any desire to become a hunter. I know what life comes with that…profession,” she avoided Nolan’s face in her thoughts, “and it’s not for me. Thank you, but no.”

“Alright, alright,” He held his hands up, “whatever you say. Offer will stand should you take it. I just want to see you in good hands.”

They chatted for a little while longer before Greyson took off, a haul of supplies in the back of his pickup.

Cam spent the rest of her gil on a hotel room at the Leville and acquired a job at the power plant without needing an interview, as they were so desperate for people. Two days into it however, and she literally couldn’t take the heat. Even with the protective suits her skin boiled, the relief of a cold shower her reward at the end of the day. It paid by the day which was helpful, but it wouldn’t be enough for her to find a place to stay, afford rations and pay her phone bill. She’d have to do with out the latter eventually; not like she had anyone to keep in touch with.

After two weeks Cam’s income couldn’t keep up with the cost of renting a hotel room. She sold the truck, the profit just enough for one more night’s stay, and after an awkward conversation with a coworker she moved into their basement for the time being.

Jobs apart from the power plant were hard to come by, as any openings were filled the same day they were posted due to the massive population of the city. Crowds were not Cam’s thing and they were everywhere; restaurants packed to capacity and people forced to sit on the curb and eat their meals, lines at shops going around the block and barely any personal space when walking to and from work. It was overwhelming. Unnerving.

Suffocating.

There was a darkness of her own akin to that which plagued the land, seeping into her mind and spreading to further reaches as the days, then weeks, passed by. Color drained from her world, faces became flesh blobs in her field of vision, monotone voices with a distant pan no matter their proximity. It was a struggle each evening to keep Nolan from her thoughts, or at least think of better memories with him other than his final moments.

Cam leaned against the wall of the shower as she’d done every night after work, letting the ice water drench her and extinguish the fire her skin had endured in the heat suit. She wanted more than anything to stroll through the market square hand in hand with him, his blonde shag whipping around his face in the breeze and the innocence of youth in his silver eyes. But they’d converted the space into makeshift housing to try and deal with the influx of refugees so that was out of the question.

For some reason she reminisced back to a particular day at market, where she’d met four young men dressed in black clothing, including the one with the sun on his hip. Cam didn’t mention it to Nolan for obvious reasons; after all, how would one react to their significant other pointing out a stranger and announcing they were their soulmate?

That didn’t prevent her from thinking about him, though. Despite the years passing, the features of his face kept in crisp detail and whenever she thought of him pins and needles flared from the marking on her hip. Nolan’s face was already blurry…

No. It wasn’t fair to his memory to be thinking about a stranger like this, soulmate or not. She had to focus on restarting her life, getting her shit together. And after deliberating back and forth with herself, she concluded Lestallum was not the place for her.

She had to do as Nolan did. She needed to make a difference, and poaching herself in a heat suit on the daily was not the way to do it.

After tying her chestnut locks in a damp ponytail, she opened the contact page of her phone and dialed the only listing. After two rings, Greyson picked up. “Hey Cam, how’s Lestallum treating you?”

She sighed. “Not well. I was hoping that offer of yours was still on the table.”

“You mean you want to come work at HQ?”

A pause as she mulled over her decision a final time. The hunter lifestyle went against her grain; it required strength, cunning, fast reflexes and physical fitness, all things she lacked in varying degrees. To train and groom herself into a hunter would require a level of dedication she’d only previously applied to the family business, but the drive was there. Hidden beneath layers of encroaching depression and dysphoria, but it was there.

“Uhh Cam, you there?”

Greyson’s voice brought her back to the present. “Yeah,” she replied, “yeah, I want to go to HQ. Could you um, come pick me up anytime soon? I sold the truck.”

“Oh.” Greyson coughed. “Actually I can pick you up tonight. Is seven thirty okay?”

“Sure, I’ll pack my things.” Said things consisted of only a few changes of clothes, wallet and toothbrush. She’d be done in seconds. “I’ll meet you in the parkade.”

“Sounds good, later.”

As she ended the call, the sun marking on her hip tingled from beneath her skin, stronger than ever before.

#ffxv fanfiction #ffxv #gladio x female oc #soulmate AU #ffxv soulmate AU #chapter 2 #gladiolus amicitia #angst #hurt #chasing suns

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thereal-worldscollide-blog · 5 years

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Chapter One

I have no idea how long I sat there with her. All I know is that I was there long enough to feel all of the warmth seep from her corpse. Even the blood dripping down her chest had started to solidify as it cooled.

Right after I felt the last breath leave her body, I’d buried my face in the crook of her neck and cried until my throat was raw. She meant everything to me. Until I met her, I never thought I was capable of such love and trust. I thought I was destined to hide in the shadows and never grow close to anyone. Then this beautiful young woman came along. She taught me how to relax and have fun, not to mention how to love and be loved. She never once saw me as the monster I saw myself as. Everything about her made it so hard to not fall in love with her.

I start to sob again, burying my face in her shoulder. Her limp body folds in against me the tighter I hug her. I remember all too clearly the day I failed her. The day she came home with a deep, bloody bite in her shoulder. She was so strong, not even crying when I poured peroxide into the bite and stitched it closed. Instead she was consoling me. I was panicking and apologizing and acting like a total mess. I was supposed to protect her from this kind of thing. It was my fault she got into this whole supernatural mess to begin with.

You’re a fool for thinking this would work out in the first place. You know you’re a freak, you know you draw bad things to you. You had to have known this would eventually happen. If you had just-

My self loathing is cut off by knocking from downstairs. I raise my head slowly, swollen eyes narrowed to slits. Whoever the fuck that is, they must have a death wish. I mean who comes to cabin in the middle of nowhere at nearly 1am? I completely rule a lost hiker out of the list of possibilities when another, more urgent, knock comes from the door. Hunter. I connect the dots just in time to hear the front door slam against the wall as it’s forced open. Fury starts to swallow up my inner pain. How dare they come here? Looking for my Sara. I very, very slowly get up and gently ease Sara’s body on the bed. Then pull the knife out of her chest. My whole body involuntarily grimaces.

“Hello?” A man’s voice calls from downstairs.

“This place is a wreck.” Another voice mutters.

Perfect. Two hunters. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I just killed the only person I loved in this fucked up world, now I have to deal with two cocky assholes who think they’re just going to barge in and kill my girlfriend.

I silently walk across the room, into the hallway, and head downstairs. Clutching the bloodied knife in one hand. When I reach the bottom step, I see two men heading into the kitchen. Just seeing them is enough to make my eyes flood with darkness. By the time I reach the entrance to the kitchen, they’ve both thoroughly searched the disaster. I plunge the knife deep into the island in the middle of the kitchen. They both whirl around, guns raised.

“Well hello to you too.” I spit sarcastically. “Is that any way to greet someone in their own home? Anyways, the werewolf is dead, so kindly get the hell out.”

“A demon killing other monsters? That’s a new one, even for us.” The shorter of the two finally says after a brief moment of silence. He has brilliant green eyes and short, sandy hair. His tone is joking, but the expression on his face says otherwise.

“You’re half right pretty boy. But that doesn’t matter. You were here for the werewolf right? Yeah, well she’s dead, so you need to leave.” I lean against the island on my forearms, their eyes never leaving me.

“Half right?” The taller one asks. He’s got longer brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Demon or not, we can’t just leave and let you off the hook that easily.” The shorter one speaks with force behind his voice.

“And why’s that?” I cock my head to the side. “Concerned I might be a threat to society? Not that I am, but it wouldn’t matter anyways. I’m pretty much indestructible.” I smile, though it doesn’t reach my eyes. “So I’m gonna give you two one chance to run on back to your Calvin Klein photo shoot so I can go deal with my dead girlfriend.”

A muscle tics in the blonde’s jaw, so naturally I chuckle and continue. “Awww, am I making you mad? I am so very sorry.” My sarcasm only seems to be pissing them off more, but in this moment, nothing matters.

The tall hunter doesn’t take the bait. “Girlfriend? You knew her personally then?” I roll my eyes. “Yes sasquatch. I knew her personally. Now will you please leave before I have to make you.” It’s not really a question. More of a demand or a threat.

“Sam we’re supposed to question the victim of the monster before the monster is dead. The monster is dead and this clearly isn’t a victim. So what are you doing? Trying to make a new demon friend?” The blond speaks up again, sounding more agitated now.

I sigh deeply and stand upright. “I’ll be going now. I have more important shit to deal with. You two know your way out.”

As soon as I move, they jump back to their stiff, ready-to-shoot positions. Which I ignore and whirl around to head back to the stairway. A gun fires and I feel a mild pain tear through my back and out my chest. I look down at the bleeding bullet hole in my chest, slowly looking up and turning back around.

“Are you always so stupid?” My irises, which had been previously drowned in black, starting to glow bright, sapphire blue. Pupils solid white. “You have no clue what you’re fucking with, and even if I was a demon, what the hell did you expect a gun to do?”

The pair actually looks shocked that nothing happened. Even more so that my eyes had changed. “Th- they’re special bullets. For demons..” The tall one -Sam- sputters, eyes locked on mine.

“Th- th- th- speak clearly or shut up.” I snap. “I asked you nicely to leave. Now I guess I’ll just have to make you.”

More bullets tear through my clothes and burrow into my flesh when I start towards them. They begin to back up, tripping over debris on the floor. I reach the shorter one first, reaching out quickly and grabbing a handful of his jacket. I open my mouth to speak, but instead cough up a mouthful of blood. A searing pain suddenly blossoming in my stomach. I shove the man away and tear out the demon blade embedded in my gut.

“Did you really just stab me with this shit?” I look between the man and the blade. “You bastard, that tickled.” I chuckle and toss the blade to the side. “Wanna try an angel blade? I’ll even let you try it.”

They’re both staring at me with disbelief in their eyes. Almost a hint of fear. Almost. I speak again, “You hate not knowing what I am and how to kill me, don’t you?” I cross my arms over my chest, my eyes fading back to their normal dark blue. “Will you two please leave now? You’ve exhausted your options already.”

“I don’t understand, your eyes, they-” Sam is cut off by the other man.

“They looked like a demon’s, and an angel’s.” He says curtly.

“No shit,” I reply. “I know what they look like. And if you hunters would take two seconds to step out of your little box of what you think things should and shouldn’t be, you’d understand a lot more about this world.”

“So what exactly are you?” Sam asks.

“You two ask too many questions.” I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. “I’ll tell you, but that doesn’t change things. You still can’t kill me. And you still need to leave. You’re both already lucky I have something against killing innocents, or you would have been dead the second you walked through the door. It’s simple, really. I’m a hybrid.”

#chapterone supernatural winchesters supernaturalfanfiction sam dean castiel demons angels

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