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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 3 years

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OUTTAKES 3

This one bugs me because I swear I posted it, but I didn’t? TW: talk of miscarriage. I hate that word, but let’s not get into semantics. Just know there’s a trigger warning.

“Don’t say anything.” The Marrok warned. Leah and Porsche got along surprisingly well…about forty-percent of the time. It was higher than he would have expected, given who she was and the fact that Leah had really first spoken to her when she was in the middle of her teen angst phase.

So, right now.

Mercy’s daughter had come to stay for the foreseeable future. In the long-term, she’d likely be staying with Anna and Charles, but all of his grandchildren had a place in his home. Right now, that’s just where she’d chosen to stay.

The little fiery blur of almost-black hair had just slammed the door behind her as she entered and stormed straight down the far hall to her room. He couldn’t really blame her, the change in scenery and the reasons behind it were less than ideal.

Instead of waiting for Leah to make a remark in response, he left the room. Bran could navigate the worse of what a werewolf had to offer, but teenage girls were far tougher than they appeared. “Sugar, spice, and everything nice" would sooner be an ingredient list for things that go bump in the night than it would the nightmare that was female puberty.

“Porsche, open the door.” He heard the lock click closed instead. “Porsche, right now.”

“Porsche, right now.” He heard her mock from the other side. This was exactly why she was here. Porsche Hauptman was uncontrollable in more ways than one and it had become borderline dangerous, what with the may her mother attracted all the wrong things.

“Portia—“ “That’s not my name.” Her voice rose angrily.

“I own this house. I have a key.” The tone was final, unforgiving and, fortunately, she at least knew when she’d lost. The lock clicked again and Bran only gave her a few moments of peace to make it away from the door before he entered.

Porsche glared at him, another problem they’d been having. Bran personally suspected it had to do with her lineage, the reason she had to basically be taught her whole life to look away. It was just that she maybe had a little more fire in her than even Mercy did. She wasn’t scared enough to back down.

And she’d already gotten in trouble for it.

The nice thing about Aspen Creek, you couldn’t get away with that anymore. It was absolutely dire that she navigate a pack the way she was meant to, else she’d be in worse trouble. Adam’s pack was less dangerous, less volatile, and they’d babied her too much. Adam had protected her from too much, and it had given her less need to be careful.

“What happened?” Bran asked calmly.

“I broke the ledge on the whiteboard.” Oh, this was about school drama. Wonderful. The teenage social life.

It was news to him that she’d broken anything, but maybe someone had fielded the call—probably Leah actually, she had a way of doing that and honestly she was more likely to protect Porsche than maybe he would like to admit.

He waited for her to continue.

“Someone told me I was a freak—“

“Who?” Bran pressed. To his knowledge, her cousins weren’t being bullied and one of them was also a werewolf.

“You think I care to know anyone’s name here?” She spat out at him. “I’m not staying.”

“You are.” He said very plainly.

Porsche’s eyes narrowed at him, though both had become decidedly lighter. Unlike a real coyote, it seemed coy-wolves in the terms of shapeshifters and werewolves weren’t very normal looking. It left Porsche’s wolf with strange pigmentation and one blue eye—something that didn’t even remotely match her human skin.

This potential lack of control was the reason Adam had initially to send her to Montana, but at least Mercy had seen it for what it was and soon after her husband had, too. It wasn’t lack of control.

It was too much and Porsche had no fear of threatening the Marrok.

A decided problem.

“Believe it or not, I’m on your side.” He said cooly. “And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can go home.”

“Nicole.”

“Thank you.” He’d have a phone call with the school about it, if Leah hadn’t already sorted it.

Porsche didn’t respond, just sat there waiting for him to leave her to mope. She was so melodramatic these days, he wanted to laugh.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Don’t care. I have homework. I need to be alone.” She still made no effort to move towards her backpack to support her story.

He’d stop pushing. No one had made him gain their respect in a long time, not in the way a teenager did. Bran smiled in amusement when he did finally leave. Porsche loved him, he didn’t doubt it, and deep down she loved her family, too. She was just angry at the situation and one day she would realize why it came to be.

~~~

“You’re telling me that you talked back to the Marrok and lived?” Ben snorted. Porsche had just gotten finished telling her side of some silly story from her time in Aspen Creek while they sorted through newly gifted onesies to put away in drawers.

She nodded, a hint of a smile on her face.

“She was a menace.” Bran agreed, sitting across from them in a comfortable armchair. Fallon had thrown a baby shower and invited absolutely everyone, despite Porsche never having done the same for her. “But harmless, she would never have acted on it. She was never angry with me.” “Are you saying that you hope the baby is a girl so that you can watch me suffer in all the same ways you did?” Porsche teased, but despite all the grand story telling and the warmth of the atmosphere, Ben would see the tension in her posture.

The stress wasn’t healthy for her or the baby, and she was well aware. He knew, deep down, it was just her expressing her anxiety about miscarrying again. It’d already happened and both times she’d been distraught, despite the fact they really hadn’t been actively trying. It had gotten to the point where Ben had suggested birth control—just to keep it from hurting her again.

“They say karma is—“

“A bitch. I had you, after all.” Her mom joked with a grin on her face.

#mercy thompson fanfiction

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aroaceslytherin · 3 years

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You Can Run (Lyall Lupin) *Sep. 14, 2021*

Song inspiration from ‘You Can Run - Adam Jones’

From the time Lyall was born to the time he ran away, his parents never stopped talking about werewolves. They taught him how cruel and vicious they could be. Creatures with razor sharp teeth had no sense of morals or love. Lyall never loved the feelings he got when he was told to follow them to dens. He felt nauseous. He felt disgusted.

They were treading on private property, bugging living creatures that had other lives outside of werewolves. He knew they never asked for it. Some of them were born that way and that’s all they knew. Some of them didn’t even remember what it was like to be a kid before they became a wolf. It was heartbreaking.

But his family never cared. And soon they conditioned him to not care. To think horrible things about them. He started drinking and smoking to get away from it. No matter what he did he could not escape. They never listened to him. They only listened to his sister. She escaped early, he never got to.

When his parents went too far; that’s when he got his living parasite.

His name was Archer Rudolfo - twin brother of Aspen Rudolfo.

Who’s that knocking at your door?

You’ve got lots to answer for

Who’s that sleeping in your bed?

Lyall was only seventeen when the werewolf imprinted on him. Seventeen when his sister let her thoughts control her. Seventeen when his life ended.

He had never been the same since that night. Neither of them were. They were more wary of everything. Lyall began working at the Ministry with Georgia to bring in more income as they were losing money and becoming poor. They both knew they had to leave the mansion someday as they were not going to be able to keep it.

Though they inherited and became the sole bearers of their parents money, the house was much too big for the two of them. Plus they were losing money and becoming poor from all the doctor's visits and trials to keep Georgia out of Azkaban. Their childhood home also held darkness they had never seen… darkness they had never wanted. It was getting too heavy to live there any longer.

Cross your heart and hope to die

Swear that you won’t tell no lie

Cross your heart and hope to die

Lyall woke in fear every night from nightmares. Some nights, he didn’t sleep at all. He would wake up, go downstairs, and watch a movie with hot chocolate and his sister. She had not been able to sleep well since the night she murdered their parents either.

They might have been free, but it haunted her daily like the wolf at his window every Full Moon. She had a different set of razor sharp teeth sinking into her soul, dragging her down to a fiery inferno. They both began to drink and smoke heavier since that night.

Lyall wanted to quit, though he knew one day he would start again. He was conflicted. In one way it helped but in another he knew it might start hurting him. Just because they found ways to expel magic differently than those who paid for their lives during the Salem witch trials, they were still human.

Lyall never stopped, knowing his family did not have complications with drugs. He would stop when and if he had kids. Though the wolf had also ruined that dream for him.

Every time you fall asleep

Pray the Lord your soul to keep

You got problems now, my friend

Through the years they had spent in hotel rooms, Lyall was still uneasy. He checked the closets and under their beds, behind shower curtains, on balconies, and around every corner at night.

They stopped going out at night, especially on Full Moons. They gave themselves a curfew and when the sun started setting, they went back to whatever hotel was home that month. They stopped trusting people and questioned everything.

Lyall’s overthinking got worse. Georgia’s anxiety increased. Once they began to have more pills prescribed to them, they stopped going to the doctor’s. They both knew what was happening to them. They didn’t want to hear it.

They kept moving. A new town, new hotel, and new people every year.

You can run

I don’t mind

Yet Archer still found him. He would follow them around, hidden under hoods. He would wait under porches, windows, and trucks for he knew one day Lyall would have to leave at night. That one night, he would pounce. He would get him.

He smiled a crooked smile everytime Lyall looked behind him, fear in his eyes.

Lyall could not remember the last time he looked at himself in the mirror and saw true happiness. His eyes just kept getting darker. The light keeps dimming. Yet he kept holding on for something. He felt like someone was reaching out for him, waiting to be rescued.

Archer loved the thrill of the chase. Lyall was a coward. This man had no happiness in him, which is exactly why he couldn’t save his boyfriend.

He wasn’t able to conjure a patronus. He had none and he would never have one.

Lyall was too far gone. No one could save him now.

Archer would have him soon.

Truth gonna come out, someday

It’s gonna wipe that smile right off your face

But you can run

You can run

Archer laughed when he found out Lyall had found a pretty girl one day. “Yeah, I’m gonna ruin that, boy. You can’t run anymore. Everyday I get closer and closer. Now that young girl is in danger.”

He watched Lyall smile a genuine smile at the young brown haired girl. Archer growled. “You don’t deserve happiness. She will find out someday. The day I get your son.”

You saw things that shook your core

Things you’ve never seen before

Could’ve walked away instead

Archer continued to stalk Lyall. Lyall was so distracted by this girl named Hope that he stopped watching his back, stopped protecting himself, stopped putting up wards. At some point, Archer realized Lyall had not carried a wand on him some nights.

“Foolish man.” Archer licked his lips. “She’s going to get you killed.”

Lyall walked with his hands in his pockets, laughing with Hope. She began to talk to him about the stories she had from the orphanage. Underneath the butterflies he still felt for her after two years, he could feel his stomach twisting in knots. He knew he should be more cautious than he had been, but Hope was distracting. He knew he needed to work on protecting them, but the Ministry also had him busy.

“Lyall?” Hope asked softly.

Lyall shook his head, coming back to reality. “Yeah?”

“You are spacing out.”

“Oh, sorry.” Lyall rubbed his neck, glancing around the park. He squinted at a tree, thinking he had seen something.

“Lyall?” Hope asked again, resting a hand on his cheek. “You alright? You are getting clammy. We should get inside.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the motel parking lot where he was staying. “Come on. What’s wrong?”

“Something is out here.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

Archer stood behind the tree, watching them enter the motel room. “Quit lying, boy.” He stalked toward the room they entered and squeezed himself behind the ice box to watch the door. Eventually he would give up and leave to go find some food.

Now you got no one you can trust

Thinking you sold your soul unjust

Point your finger and deny

Hope awoke one night, startled. Lyall was up already, reading a book on the couch by lamplight. She rolled onto her side, pulling the chain to the lamp near her.

“Lyall, are you not telling me something?”

“Like what?”

She turned her head, looking at the carpet as her curls fell into her face, acting as a curtain. “The wolves are chasing you in the pale moonlight. We hadn’t talked about having kids, but our son, our first-born, our only, is going to be in danger. I grabbed him and ran.”

Lyall set the book on the coffee table and stood, heading over to Hope where he sat on the end of the bed and rested a hand on her ankles. Hope looked at him, pushing her hair behind her back. “I’m sorry, Hope.”

“I love you, annwyl. We can do this, just stop forgetting your wand.” Hope pulled her legs from Lyall before shifting positions and crawling toward him. She kissed him softly. “Please protect us as much as you can.”

“I promise.” He kissed her back. “I love you.”

You can run

I don’t mind

Truth gonna come out, someday

It’s gonna wipe that smile right off your face

But you can run

You can run

Lyall and Georgia laughed loudly as the three of them played a board game with Hope. It had been a year and they had not felt uneasy for a while. Lyall felt like they needed to take precautions still, so they did.

Hope got up as their son began to cry. Lyall grabbed his wand and followed her. They had a routine now; Lyall would follow and protect, checking under their baby’s crib, in their closet, in the bathroom, the laundry room, and their bed. They left shower curtains and doors open when not in use, made sure every window was locked, warded, and closed.

Lyall swept the house every night, every morning, and after every nap their baby took. He followed Hope when he could and Georgia took over when he wasn’t home. Georgia stopped working at the Ministry to help watch over the small family. She reported any fur, paw tracks, or unusual men hiding in hoods and then they would move.

She watched the time and owled if they were out too late. She guarded her brother’s room when they were asleep until she went to bed for the night.

Lyall and Hope shared a room with their baby until he was old enough to sleep alone just so they could watch him and listen for any unusual sounds.

Hope and Georgia both knew how Lyall felt about this, he had hoped the wolf would be gone by now so they would be a normal family. He felt guilty, trapped, and a prisoner of life. But he had found happiness and he was not going to end it.

He would guard them and protect them with his life.

You can run

I don’t mind

Truth gonna come out, someday

It’s gonna wipe that smile right off your face

But you can run

You can run

#lyall lupin #alternate universe #hogwarts #hope howell #original character #fanfic #Spotify

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aced0g · 5 years

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Be Your Worst Self

I was tagged by @loveydoveypiperwright , so thank you! I’m sorry I haven’t done a tagging game in a while but I’m getting there :DD

Rules: Take this quiz for your character(s) and post the results!

I’m gonna tag @fallout-and-dragon-age & @ace-amatus but thats only if y'all want too. Have fun if you do!

So for my ocs its going to just be easier to go by the personality type rather than list each oc out individually cause there would be a lot of overlap, that being said, here we go~

You Are an Emotionally Volatile Nightmare:

Your heart guides you and sometimes that’s not as dreamy or romantic as it might sound. It’s true that your feelings often inspire you to heal and create, and as long as those feelings don’t steer you wrong, you’re capable of truly visionary accomplishments in the name of empathy and love. Feelings, though, aren’t always gentle and sweet. You know that better than anyone because your own emotions -the same overwhelming forces that inspire you to make the world a better place - can take you to very dark places, especially if you believe that the subject of your ire has shown unwarranted cruelty toward you or something you hold dear. You know that your feelings aren’t necessarily rational, but that doesn’t stop you from dramatically blaming other people for causing you pain. Of course, you might not even stop at crying; that notoriously brilliant creativity might even spur you to express your wrath artistically - nothing says “emotional stability” like a morose, vengeful poem.

-Evander Virani: Does it match up? Yeah I’d say so. He’s experienced a lot of trauma and while most of the time he pushes his emotions down or tries to act like a positive “everything’s going to be okay!” person he’s about one bad thing away from having a breakdown. When he’s truly happy its one of the few times he can just forget about his problems and enjoy the moment. Most of the time he’s in this in between stage of pure terror and extreme sadness. It makes him appear like he has a level head. When he’s angry though it tends to lash out as a literal burning rage. He loses control of his magic and sort of engulfs his arms in flame and takes his ire out on whoever pissed him off (he hates being angry because it scares him. He doesn’t like losing control). His creative outlet is forging knives and swords. He does want to heal though, he’s tired of being the cause of destruction. He wants to help and heal, not only others but also himself.

-Aspen Lavellan: Does it match up? Kinda? I wouldn’t call him volatile. Aspen’s got a pretty level head on his shoulders. He has learned how to act diplomatic. When he is presenting himself as Inquisitor to the public imagine a Raymond Holt type of personality. When he’s with friends though he likes to pull pranks and just have a good time. He doesn’t want to be serious all the time because it makes the situation feel bleak. He wants there to be positivity in his life. Though, I would say that when he is truly angry it’s a type of silent wrath that’s terrifying. You can see the burning hatred in his eyes and he has the skill to hit his target with three arrows before they even know whats going on. When he’s truly angry he will keep fighting until he’s completed his goal or he dies trying. He does carve dalish patterns into his bow so that could be considered creative? Aspen is a protector. He wants to help others, keep them safe and that could translate into healing. He does what needs to be done to keep people safe, and sometimes that means making the hard decisions that others can’t.

-Arthur Cousland: Does it match up? Yeah. Arthur’s usually able to stay in a good mood. He’s an optimist and doesn’t like to bring people down. He’s gentle and wants to help heal and create. It’s why he enjoys playing his lute and singing. Songs can inspire people, or at the very least cheer them up. He may be a noble but what he does with that sort of money and power is give it away to others. He gives his coin to those on the street who need food, or he’s been known to give his blanket away as well saying he’ll just buy another when they reach the next town. He’s got a big heart and he wears it on his sleeve. The only way he can hide when he’s sad is if it’s raining so that the rain can hide his tears, or if he goes off on his own for a little while (he hates burdening others with his problems and often leaves for an hour or two to just climb a tree and have a good cry, though Alistair catches on and works with Arthur to realize its okay to let others help him when he is sad). When he’s angry it’s hard to think logically. He listens to his heart and when he feels betrayed or that someone is going to bring harm to his friends or the people he’s protecting he will fight tooth and nail to protect them and kill whoever is provoking them.

You are a Narcissistic Monster:

You’re the best - right? Wherever you go, the spotlight finds you, and you’re hardly complaining. you can’t imagine your friends care, since, after all, you’re so generous. Well, that’s what you like to think about yourself. You’re generous, enthusiastic, and fun, so if you compulsively steal the spotlight, it doesn’t really matter. If you fuel drama just to feed your thirst for a dramatic life, is it really that bad? Is it really so wrong for you to be the center of attention? Does it really matter how other people feel about it in the long run? Of course, you’d never say no. You’re the generous friend, and you’d never hurt anyone on purpose just to keep all eyes on you... right? Every now and then, you imagine your funeral and how all of your friends will go on and on about how wonderful, magnetic, charming, and generous you were.

-Sorian Surana: Does it match up? No, not really. He’s cocky, headstrong, and a bit of an asshole sometimes but I wouldn’t call him narcissistic. He’s proud of himself, and yeah he’s proud of himself and takes pride in his looks but not because that’s all he cares about. Sorian is a trans-man elf mage who was mistreated in the circle and then joined up with the wardens and transitioned. He went from thinking he would have no future to being one of the legendary Grey Wardens, and then he actually looks the way he’s always wanted to! So of course he’s going to seem a little vain or narcissistic sometimes, but it’s only because he never thought he’d make it this far. And, if he’s being honest, he fucking hates the spotlight. He’d much rather be just one of the Wardens instead of The Hero of Ferelden, Arl of Amaranthine, and all those other titles. He’ll be in the spotlight, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. Besides, he should be allowed a little bit of cockiness (mages in The Awakening DLC are so OP by the end of it, literally Sorian knows so many spells and can conjure the dead turn into a bear, wield a great ax while shooting fire storms at people, and at the same time have a constant aura of changing elemental magic that deals damage to his enemies.)

You are Shockingly Violent:

There’s no getting around this: you desperately need to attend anger management. You’re just as headstrong and opinionated, and your energy and enthusiasm can turn into explosive violence at the drop of a hat. You’re a walking time bomb of seething rage, and the more you try to hide it, the more it escapes in unpredictable, volatile mood swings. Do yourself a favor and invest in a stress ball or gym membership before you do something you really regret

-Kyra Lavellan: Does it fit? Yeah. She chose the Reaver specialization for a reason. Kyra is a very energetic and enthusiastic person. She does what she feels is right and gets upset when people don’t see that she’s doing the right thing even if it might not morally line up with their beliefs. As a kid she’d often get into fights with the other kids of her clan and was always sporting some sort of bandage because of it. She has a better control on her outbursts as an adult, but she still lashes out especially when she’s in pain or very annoyed. Her anger is great in battle though. She fights with the ferocity of a dragon and won’t admit it out loud but she does enjoy having the power to physically shred her enemies with her hands. Before she knew how to control the reaver power she would keep attacking, sacrificing her own health to get the job done and make sure the others were safe. Once she learned how to keep conscious and keep fighting things went a lot smoother.

-Alrik Hawke: Does it fit? Kinda? Hawke’s in denial really. He wants to protect people and make them happy, it’s why he chose to be a spirit healer, why he’s always cracking jokes and trying to get others to smile. He does have a lot of anger though. It’s just under the surface, though its quite hard to really bring out. See Alrik is a werewolf and his anger is tied very closely to the wolf, so for him getting angry isn’t just an outburst of words it means he could lose control and shift. He doesn’t want that. He keeps a tight lid on his anger and it only really comes out in moments of extreme stress, like the deep roads or when slaver’s are trying to recapture his best friend, or when people keep calling Merril a monster, or when Templars get too close to Anders. Okay so maybe he does have a lot of anger. Like I said he’s in denial.

You are a Two-Faced Liar:

Your friends know you talk behind their backs. Not that you’re a bad person - you just can’t help letting other people know how you really feel about some of the crazy stuff your loved ones have told you. Unfortunately, you’ve talked and talked and talked, and now, they all know you’ll talk if they confide in you. You know it, too, and you still can’t help it. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t force yourself to be as loyal or honest as you want to be. At least you’re charming enough to keep making new friends and replacing the ones who felt too hurt or betrayed to trust you again.

-Zachariah Hawke: Does it fit? Yes and no. Zach has a big heart, but as a rogue he knows sometimes it’s better to lie and be dishonest. I think this would have been more of a problem back in Lothering, unable to keep friends because he keeps telling his parents about them and over sharing, not out of malice but because he gets so excited that he just needed to tell them. I think over time he would become the one with no friends and as an adult he knows how to keep his mouth shut. The only person he really overshares with now is Varric, and later Fenris when they’re in their relationship together. Zach isn’t trying to hurt anyone by talking about them he just... can’t keep all of their problems locked up with his because it’s too much. Zach’s the type of guy that smiles to hide what he’s going through and he wants to help his friends so much, but to keep it all inside would cause him to fall apart.

#oc meme #my ocs #my ocs: zachariah #my ocs: alrik #my ocs: kyra #my ocs: aspen #my ocs: arthur #my ocs: sorian #my ocs: evander

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lalainajanes · 7 years

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Au, hybrid!Klaus meets dragon!caroline in Aspen, she hates the cold, bed sharing happens

I did not get to the bed sharing, sorry! Otherwise this would have gotten l o n g.

Under Night Sky

There were few thingsthat annoyed Caroline more than tourists. Aspen, her current home base, waslousy with them this time of year. They polluted the restaurants, the bars,every single shop in town. She supposed it was good for the economy and shedidn’t begrudge her neighbors the profits but that didn’t stop her from being irritatedby it. Even worse was that they were all over her mountain. Humans wereeverywhere, from sunrise to sunset – with a few stragglers who liked skiing inthe dark - severely limiting her opportunities to change and stretch her wings.

She was constantly restless,unable to focus, her skin itchy and tight. Even now, curled up in her favoritechair by a fire with a truly excellent smutty novel, she’s cranky. The recentdip in temperature and increase in frigid winds only shortened her alreadyfraying temper.

Seriously, the nextdrunk frat boy who tossed her a terrible line and expected his stunning wit toearn him a VIP pass into her pants might just get eaten.

Caroline took comfortin the fact that the busy season was almost over. She’d have a couple months tobreathe before the summer rush began. That one was always more tolerablebecause at least she wasn’t cold in addition to being crowded.

She tosses her bookaside in frustration, having realized that she’s been reading the same pageover and over again. She’d just been getting to the good stuff and it deservesher full attention. A quick glance out the window shows the sun just beginningto set, faint wisps or pink and orange streaking the sky. She usually makes herselfwait until it’s fully dark before setting out but maybe, just this one time, itwon’t hurt to go a little early. It was a record low for February, surely mostof the tourists had called it an early day, were tucked into lodges and cabinswith hot chocolate or wine.

She’ll just driveslowly, Caroline decides, standing up and stretching out her stiff limbs. Bythe time she gets to her spot it’ll be fine. Deserted and private, just her andthe night sky.

Later, Caroline willwonder if the decision to break her routine was among the best, or one of theworst, she’s made in her very long life.

It’s not until she’stransformed, endured the shift of muscle and bone – painful but endlesslyfreeing – that Caroline notices something’s amiss. In her human form her sensesare slightly better than average but nothing compared to her enhanced sight andsmell that comes when she’s let her dragon loose.

Her clearing, deep ina forest, further than anyone but the odd park ranger bothers to go, has beenvisited recently. She’d seen the tracks, noted that their must be aparticularly large wolf in the vicinity, had been vaguely excited at thepossibilities of a hunt. Intent on tracking it she sets her nose to the prints,lets out a startled huff as she takes it in. Another scent mingles with thewolf’s, not one Caroline knows but there issomething familiar about it.

She’s met manywerewolves, knew which bits of the legends floating were fact and what wasfiction. Transforming at will, a solid week out from the full moon, wasn’tsomething they could do. And yet, there was that distinct scent, proof that onehad managed the feat.

Caroline had neverbeen very good at minding her own business.

As much as she longsto push off, to break the treeline and soar until she’s exhausted the mystery ofthe tracks nag at her. It’s a lone wolf, she knows, incapable of being even ahint of a threat to her. She couldlet it be, make some calls later to friends who are more in the loop to satisfyher curiosity and see if some new kind of werewolf exists out in the world.

That would probably bethe prudent choice.

But prudence was so boring and it’s been forever sinceCaroline has had something interesting happen. It’s been months of hanging outin her apartment, only leaving it when she needed something, or for hersolitary flights around the mountains.

She’s following thepaw prints before she can talk herself out of it.

Caroline’s not asstealthy as she wants to be, the werewolf is large in comparison with actualwolves but significantly smaller than she is so can’t help disturbing theunderbrush around her, sending leaves rustling and snapping branches. Sheconsiders doubling back to the clearing and the clothes she’s stashed,following on foot. Nixes the idea quickly. Transforming took several minutesand her human skin was far more vulnerable than her dragon’s scales. She’d healif the werewolf decided to attack but she’d really rather avoid being bittenand scratched until she could shift and fight back and make him regretattempting to hurt her.

A little burst of fireor one good chomp would do the trick nicely.

The scent’s beginningto get stronger and Caroline knows she’s getting closer. Anticipation ishumming through her and when she pushes through a dense wall of trees andsplashes into an icy stream she lets out a huff of annoyance, making a quickleap to clear the water.

Only to be startled byan amused human laugh.

How had she missed thenaked man?!

“Finally,” he drawls,bending from the crouch he’d been in. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,sweetheart.”

Huh. Not the usualreaction one had, supernatural or not, to coming upon a ten foot winged lizard.Dragons were rare, knowledge of the closely guarded, and a werewolf shouldn’thave the slightest clue that things like her existed.

Maybe, Caroline thinks,tensing in readiness to take off, she should have been more cautious. He’s unnaturallystill, the slightly curled ends of his hair dripping as he studies her. Thedroplets hit his shoulders and collarbone before slipping lower, trickling downpale skin pulled taut over lean muscles.

She lets her eyeslinger on him, feels no shame in doing so. He’s not the slightest bit self-conscious,makes no move to hide any of the veryimpressive parts of his body from her gaze.

Caroline can’t helpbut appreciate his lack of modesty, mentally berates herself for it. Maybe sheshould have taken one of the frat boy’s offers. Surely, if they didn’t talk,she could make do and would be less inclined to appreciatively ogle an unknown,if attractive, entity?

Her attention shiftsback to his face when he raises his hands slowly, palms up in what Caroline’scertain is feigned supplication. Her instincts are sharp, well-honed and neverwrong. Her gut’s been the only thing that’s kept her alive a time or two ortwelve over the centuries. She knows when to fight, only does it when she’ssure she can win. Faced with the too knowing golden eyes of this stranger she’sno longer sure she’d come out on top if things got bloody.

A small part of her isintrigued. Still she eases back a step, takes a deep breath and lets out a puffof air that carries a hint of a threat, the smallest bit of smoke and flame.Not close enough to do any damage. Yet.

The werewolf’s browsrise, his full lips tipping up into a smile, “Ah, you’re exactly as advertised.I’m suitably impressed though I assure you I mean you no harm.”

This time her snort isdistinctly disbelieving and he has no trouble parsing her meaning. He nods aconcession, “Yes, I admit that luring you deep into the woods looks suspect.Would it help if I mentioned your friend Bonnie sent me your way?”

It’s a surprise but itdoes the trick. Caroline relaxes slightly though she maintains the distancebetween them. She’s known the Bennett witches for a very long time, Bonnie, thenewest of the line was a good friend, bright, loyal and more powerful than sheknew. Caroline was quite fond of her, trusted her more than most people.

He drifts a stepcloser, palms still slightly raised, his tone warm and beseeching. “Why don’tyou change back, love? So we can make introductions properly. Discuss a bit ofmutually beneficial business.”

That earns another gutturalnoise, a swift denial and she takes her own step away. Did he think she was anidiot? Caroline was tough to kill but that hadn’t stopped people from tryingover the years. Worse were the idiots who thought to imprison her, the ones whoknew how valuable her blood and scales and teeth were. They’d always attemptedto strike when she was in her human body, when her strength and speed weremanageable, her claws not nearly as sharp.

She reaches out withone, the tip lethally pointed and more than capable of gutting him, and scrawlsout a symbol in the snow. It’s the logo of a bar in town and if he’s not smartenough to figure it out Caroline doubts any business he pitches will be worthher time. He studies it for a second before nodding genially, “Tomorrow? Say, 8o’clock?”

Caroline jerks herhead in acknowledgement, stretching her wings and preparing to push off. Hiseyes light up, turning molten and hot, a greedy fascination clear as they takeher in. “I’ll be there,” he murmurs.

She’s in the airbefore he can say anything else, high above the tree line with only a fewpowerful flutters of her wings. He remains still, getting smaller and smallerbut Caroline somehow still feels his gaze. She does her very best to ignore thewarmth building in her. Her gut told her those eyes of his were dangerous, thatskipping town might be her best option. That he was more than he appeared. Shereaches for reason, for cold rationality, but finds it hard to grasp.

She curses herrestlessness, her often over active imagination. She wants to know what color hiseyes turn when his wolf’s safely tucked away, if the impact of them on her bodyis the same.

Tomorrow she’ll findout.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #finished my last school thing of this semester so drabbles tonight #fic on my days off this week #denielapple

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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 7 years

Text

Jump at the Sun

Adam Hauptmann sat down, head in hands. His mate was long to bed, though he knew she was really just waiting upstairs for him. She was stubborn, but not crazy. She would give him his space when he needed it.

This was one of those days, nights really, where his straight-laced mind wished he could drink himself to sleep.

After everything he had ever been through, Adam would be the first to tell you he didn’t deserve Jesse. All those miscarriages, he’d just assumed it made up for the monster he had become. She was born, though, and she was the little light he could protect from the Devil all day. For so many years, he lived for her.

He knew how precious she was, how fragile life was.

He raised her to be free. He knew how overbearing he could be, but she learned the ins-and-outs. She was a human and she was she was strong, being free would teach you that. He didn’t know why, but he was never scared for her. He was never scared she wouldn’t be strong enough. He would have his over-protective “dad moment”, that came with the territory. They sometimes led to fights, like those about the color of her hair, but even he couldn’t stand up to Jesse at her most stubborn.

Mercy had, however unexpectedly and unintentionally, given him another daughter. This one didn’t live in the human world, though. She didn’t just have a good understanding of what it meant that her father was the alpha. She lived in his world, ran in his pack. She had her mother’s strength and spirit and it was dangerous.

He’d raised Jesse to love herself, to be confident. He’d spent almost ten years tearing Porsche down.

He wasn’t a man to hide his shortcomings. He was still prideful, though, and even Mercy couldn’t teach him to ask for help. He did, though. He had reached out to the Marrok after the last hunt when his daughter’s wolf had stumbled into his path. He had almost hurt her, a werewolf’s sense of family was not the same as the man’s, and he’d never forgive himself if he did.

That said, he’d never forgive himself if someone else hurt her because he hadn’t taught her well enough. He couldn’t break her, but he had tried so hard. She was only thirteen now, but he couldn’t look in her eyes after he’d scold her. His biggest fear was that she hated him, hated how he treated her, hated how he told her she had to be quiet and listen to those in charge of her.

She lived in a world where she wasn’t quite an insider. She was already looked down upon as a mutt and she was female. She wasn’t allowed to talk back, even in a pack as progressive as his own.

Samuel Cornick had already made the suggestion that she stay in Aspen Creek for a little bit. She had gotten into trouble at school recently. Somehow, Coyote managed to affect his granddaughter more than his daughter. She was the epitome of trickster, making things disappear and reappear, but she’d caused a girl a pretty bad slice to the shoulder. Though the school said Porsche hadn’t been responsible, and Porsche had claimed innocence as well, something about her classmate’s story didn’t sit right with Adam.

Cynthia Reed had said her art supplies had mysteriously vanished after (she freely admitted to this) she and a group of girls had been teasing his own daughter. The art box in question had managed to drop from seemingly out of the blue while the girl was on her way to her homeroom—a small private school meant that the students basically lived out of once classroom and were lucky to have a room dedicated to art—because she was unprepared for class. The box coming from so high knocked her down the stairs and scissors had fallen to slice her shoulder pretty badly.

Porsche claimed she had only had an inkling that Cynthia had gotten into trouble. Adam had a feeling she’d more than had an inkling (even if it was entirely accidental) about the situation and it worried him.

The combination of her own ignorance for the rules and her inability to control everything she was apparently capable of made her a bomb waiting to go off. When he tried to curb the first, he played with her temper and her fuse was much shorter than most wolves with almost immediate and painless Changes like her mother and the nightmare of hormones that teen girls were notorious for.

As an alpha, it was his job to keep his pack safe. Her dissidence made that almost impossible and he was running out of ways to manage it.

Aspen Creek was quickly becoming the best option, but it was the least appealing. In another pack, he couldn’t protect her from herself or the lifestyle she’d been unknowingly born into. He couldn’t argue for keeping her alive with the Marrok if he deemed her unfit (though he suspected Bran Cornick had as much of a soft spot for his “granddaughter” as he did for her mother).

Not to mention, Mercy would never agree to it. She would rather stay with her daughter and he had to understand that, knowing how Mercy herself had grown up. His wolf was unsettled by the thought of leaving his pack behind. Adam was just unsettled by the idea of his wife leaving him when he suggest this is the best option for their daughter—because he was scared if he stayed near her that he would hurt her.

He hadn’t taught Porsche to jump at the sun, but she had taught herself anyways.

*********

A/N-

HEAVILY inspired by Zora Neale Hurston, an incredible and inspiring writer for all women. If you have never read her, I strongly recommend her writings (both published and unpublished). She tells a story about her childhood, growing up in a black community outside of immediate white influence. Her mother taught her to jump at the sun, and her father was always scared for her learning that. I had to re-read it in class recently and it reminded me of my own father to an extent, but also of a question I had a very, very long time ago.

When I first began writing fan fiction (for MT at least) I wrote a few stories about the idea of Mercy having a kid--no surprise to most of you, y’all have seen me re-writing it more recently--and I received a comment. The person said they don’t think Mercy or Adam would ever send their child away.

I think any good parent would do what they have to in order to raise their child. I think that it differs between families what the best scenario would be in order to receive the best possible outcome. I think every scenario would produce a different option, but if Adam truly feared he could hurt her (and we know he’s not always super confident in himself) I have no doubt he’d be more willing to even consider the idea about sending her away.

My parents are some of the greatest people I know, and I also know they make very difficult decisions all the time in order to protect my siblings and I. My brother has a lower-functioning form of autism which means he will likely never be able to live alone. They had to make the decision to send him to summer camp for a week (sleep away) in order to encourage the ability to take care of himself that he does have. It’s silly because it’s almost a week, but it’s a week with people we don’t know on a personal level and my parents grew up in a time where programs for people like my brother were horrible.

Good parents make hard decisions. When I read ZNH’s story about how her father tried to break her spirit I realized just how hard being a parent can be. No good father wants his daughter to feel weak or unable to be confident in herself, but if it’s the thing that will keep her alive that option doesn’t seem so poor. BASICALLY JUST GO READ ALL OF ZNH’S WORK FOR EVERY REASON EVER. SHE’S BEAUTIFUL. “I love myself when I am Laughing” ❤️

#Mercy Thompson series #mercy thompson fanfiction #fanfiction #Adam Hauptman

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