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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

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The Art of Failing [1]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, self doubt, mentions of blood

Word Count: 10,360

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: it's here!! i'm so excited to officially share this because it was so much fun to write and i'm even more excited to show y'all the rest]

MIDDAY MADNESS

"failure does not mean your life is over."

Every workplace had that one employee who was deemed irreplaceable.

The employee who showed up early, went the extra mile, and made the lives of those around them easier. The one who had a passion for their work⏤ who was born to do what they do with a smile on their face. You were that employee. Without you, everything would collapse into chaos and madness. Mayhem would fill your 8-storied workplace to the brim until it was spilling out into the unsuspecting streets of Austin, Texas. Riots would break out. Fire would engulf the city. The world would never know peace. Without you⏤

“Hey, coffee girl!” The sharp, angry voice startled you and the precariously stacked drinks in your hands nearly toppled over. You readjusted your hold on the carriers with a breathy sigh. “Where the hell is my cappuccino?”

Perhaps calling yourself the most irreplaceable employee here was a bit of a stretch. You were important though. Your job was vital. If it weren’t for you then your co-workers would be caffeine deprived which would lead to headaches which would then lead to mistakes and errors in paperwork which would, eventually and inevitably, lead to worldwide destruction somewhere down the line. You were needed here. You were vital and a necessity. At least, that’s what you told yourself over and over in the form of a mental mantra. It was either that or get caught in the abysmal, black hole your life seemed to be right now.

“Here you go, sir.” You angled the carrier so he could scoop up the cup on the far left. The man yanked his cup away hastily, nearly knocking over the other drinks again, and rushed away without even so much as a ‘thank you’. You pressed your lips together in annoyance.

You were vital. You were vital. You were vital.

With a brief pause to piece your patience back together, you pasted on a broad smile and began to continue your morning deliveries. For two years, you had been taking coffee and lunch orders, scheduling meetings, running errands, and doing basically every other busy work task put on your plate. It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, but it was the price to pay. You wouldn't take this kind of treatment anywhere else and the only reason you still put up with it was because it was just a stepping stone.

Today you were a glorified assistant.

Tomorrow you would be an Agent.

An Agent of the Division of Mythological Affairs.

It was a title not many held and was exclusive for a number of reasons. The DMA was established decades ago to police and protect the supernatural community. It was the responsibility and duty of the DMA to keep the peace amongst the community while also keeping said community secret from the rest of humanity. Knowing that the monsters of myth and legend were real was privileged information. The only reason you were clued in was because of your mother. She had been an Agent herself years ago and you grew up surrounded by supernatural forces. Hell, your childhood best friend was a forest nymph.

As you grew older, you grew more passionate about the world you were blessed to know and the dream to walk in your mother’s footsteps took root. You trained and you studied, desperate to make the world a better place, and thus far all you had succeeded in was mastering the skill of carrying four drink carriers without dropping them.

After delivering the final cup of coffee, you made your way up to the eighth floor. There was about fifteen minutes before you had to get down to the lobby for your next task of the day, and you planned to spend it begging. You greeted familiar faces as you passed them. The separation of labor could be seen in the change of clothes as you got to the higher floors. Everyone you passed now were dressed in nice and expensive suits. It was the upper levels that housed the policy makers⏤ more politician than soldier.

The eighth floor was the nicest of them all with open windows that let in natural light. There were no ugly cubicles littering the bulk of it. Instead, modern and sleek furniture sat around the space and private offices were housed here.

“Hey, have you seen Captain Roberts?” You asked Stacey, one of the secretaries you saw in meetings every once in a while, and she didn’t even lift her eyes up from the magazine she was flipping through. She just pointed to the right towards a hall of offices. You mumbled a thanks and continued on. There were a few different Captains who worked in this sector of the DMA, but Captain Roberts was in charge of the Agents and Analysts you worked with most often.

You were halfway down the hall when an unfamiliar, armored figure stepped out of the conference room to leave. Mandalorian. Your pace stuttered in shock as you stared wide eyed at the intimidating man stalking toward you. There were too many vampire covens to count, but a few were infamous enough to merit memorizing.

The Mandalorians were one of them.

Their signature being the impenetrable armor they wore at all times⏤ faces they never revealed to anyone. It wasn’t unusual to see a Mandalorian or two wandering around the building. They occasionally worked contracts with the DMA picking up on bounties. Not all DMA sanctioned bounty hunters were Mandalorian, but the best undoubtedly were. You didn’t recognize this one though.

His all silver armor was haunting and his gait spoke to strength and skill. He was close enough now that you could see your wide, staring eyes in the reflection of his visor, and you forced yourself to snap your gaze to the floor as you passed. The air was tense around him, it followed him like a dark cloud, and his heavy boots stormed past you without pause. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to watch him a second more. His worn out cloak whipped around him at the pace he marched out with and a few suited men practically leapt out of his way to avoid being in his path.

You let out a low whistle and turned back towards the conference room he had just left. Being on the radar of a Mandalorian had to be a fate worse than death, and you pitied whoever had pissed off that one. Outside the conference room door, you adjusted your work blazer and took a steadying breath. You were vital, this organization was lucky to have you, and you would be an Agent if it were the last thing you did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited until a deep voice called out for you to enter.

Inside the room were three others. They sat at an elongated conference table centered in the room with their backs to Austin street views out the floor to ceiling windows. On the wall across from the windows were large screens designed for calls and it looked like one had just ended. Of the three people in the room, you only recognized one. Captain Roberts, a gruff man in his late sixties, stood at the head of the table with a few folders and papers spread out in front of him. He was built like a grizzly bear and had the temperament of one as well. The red of his beard was graying and you still hadn’t gotten used to his bald head quite yet. He used to have hair thick and long enough to braid, but when his hair started to recede he chose instead to just lose it all.

“If that’s all, I have other matters to attend to.” Captain Roberts cleared his throat and motioned toward you. It was a dismissal on his part, and you stepped closer while the two other suited individuals packed up their belongings to leave. The second they were out of sight, Roberts groaned. “Perfect timing, kid. I hate dealing with Olympus representatives.”

Your jaw fell open and you pointed to the door, “Those were…” You had never met the souls responsible for carrying the messages and words of the gods and goddesses back down to Earth. “Really?”

“Try not to look so excited. The gods are dicks and they live to make my job more difficult.”

“You say that about everybody.” You replied and wandered over to stand by him. Your eyes darted down to the papers scattered on the table. It looked like a missing person report. “I saw a Mandalorian in here earlier.” The report looked like it was talking about a child. You narrowed your eyes and pulled it closer. The Mandalorian was reporting his own missing child. A young boy who had disappeared overnight. “Why were you meeting with a Mandalorian and Olympus representatives over a missing kid?”

Roberts snatched away the reports to tuck them into a folder with a chastising glare. “I didn’t. I was meeting with the representatives when the Mandalorian burst in. Kind of like you did.”

“You were happy with my interruption a few seconds ago.” You argued. Roberts gave you a tired glare, and you nodded toward the folders in his hands. “You know I was talking to Hannah downstairs a few days ago and she was telling me that the number of missing kids has skyrocketed this last month in comparison to previous months.”

Roberts grunted, “What have I told you about being nosy?”

“Maybe I could help.” You offered. “I could⏤” Roberts scoffed out your name with a shake of his head and made a beeline for the door. You scrambled after him. “Roberts, come on. Please.”

“You came all this way up to beg me about a missing persons case?”

“Well, I actually came to beg you about applying for the Agent qualifications exam, but I’m not picky about what I beg for. I’ll take what I can get.”

“No.”

“Roberts⏤”

“I said, no.”

You locked your jaw in annoyance as you both climbed into the elevator. In order to sign up for the qualifications exam you needed the approval of a Captain. It seemed no matter how many times you begged Roberts to write you the letter of recommendation allowing you to sit for the test, he always had some excuse to say no. Any Captain’s letter would do the job and you could technically find another to badger about this, but you were the stubborn kind. Captain Roberts had been the one to qualify your mother, and you wanted him to be the one to qualify you too.

“If you just gave me a chance,” You snapped, “I could do it.”

“We’re not getting into this again.”

“Give me a real reason then!”

Roberts glared at you with a look that would have anyone else cowering or running for the hills. You could see beyond the anger and frustration. Beyond the huff and glowering. Underneath all the rough Captain bravado was someone who cared, but right now it was infuriating. Roberts rubbed his bald head and shook it with disdain, “Your mother wouldn’t want you risking your life like she did.” It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest. Of all the excuses he had plied you with in the past this was the first time he used your mother as one. “She would want better for you.”

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“You’re a bright girl. You say the word and I can get you a job in research. You would be a hell of an Analyst⏤”

“I don’t want to be an Analyst! I want to be⏤”

The elevator doors dinged open and you both grew silent. A small group shuffled onto the elevator making small talk. You stood stiff and straight, arms crossed over your chest, while Roberts pouted on his side of the elevator as well. Three floors down and the group dispersed leaving you alone with the Captain once more.

“You can do better than this, kid.” Roberts said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“This. This is what I want for my life.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You just stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator door, each lighting up as you got closer and closer to the ground floor. “I just wanna help people like mom did.”

“There are other ways to do that.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor and you finally turned to Roberts, “Are you going to approve me for the exam or not?”

Roberts held your gaze for a moment, sadness seeping into his blue eyes, and he sighed, “No. No, I’m not.”

You bobbed your head once, biting back the burning threat of tears prickling at your eyes, and you hurried out of the elevator. Roberts called out after you, making others near the elevator doors glance in your direction, but you didn’t pause in your stride.

There was a small cubicle, amongst a sea of others, down a hall connected from the lobby that you called your own. It was tiny, just big enough to house a computer and a bit of desk space for you to stack busy work all over, but it was yours. The cubicle wall was decorated with pictures of friends, family, and a spattering of Halloween decorations you had put up for the upcoming holiday.

You dropped into the seat, Roberts’ denial ringing in your ears, and your eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was your high school graduation and your mother had her arms wrapped around you proudly as you both beamed at the camera. The sight of it made your stomach turn and without thought you tugged it off the wall where it hung to stick in a drawer. Your mother was a hero who changed so many lives, and you could only wonder what she would think if you now⏤ sitting at a cubicle buried in busy work and covered in coffee stains.

You had buried yourself in errands and paperwork to distract from the bitter rejection of Captain Roberts. The small voice at the back of your mind whispered that all you had to do was seek out a separate Captain for your letter of recommendation. You knew for a fact that the Captain who worked the neighboring district handed out letters like candy. They had the mindset that the test would weed out the ones who didn’t deserve to be there, and you were confident you could pass. It was a quick and easy solution, but it felt too much like cheating in your eyes.

A part of you wished you could kick your pride to the curb. A dream was a dream, right? It didn’t matter how you got there as long as you got there. You blew out an irritated breath of air and leaned back in your seat to stretch your spine. No matter how many times you repeated those words in your head they didn’t seem to stick.

“Hey, pumpkin.” A voice drawled from behind you, and the condescending tone of it immediately made your blood pressure rise. Slowly, you turned in your seat to face the bane of your existence. Agent Miles Jackson was average in height but constantly acted as if he were compensating for something or another. You assumed it was his lack of a bearable personality. The weight of his stare gave his brown eyes a beady quality and his thin lipped smile could only be described as smarmy. He winked at you and the urge to gouge his eyes out washed over you. “What’re you doing here?”

You furrowed your brow, “Working. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept to you.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Miles snorted. “I meant, why the hell are you still here and not picking up my lunch?” You opened your mouth to complain, but he cut in. “I want my usual from that sandwich place right down the road. The faster the better.”

“Miles⏤”

The man turned on his heel and began to march away before letting you say another word. You glared at his back where his light blue, wrinkled button up shirt was untucked from his one size too small dress pants. You just wanted to throw something at the back of his head. With a huff, you pushed to stand and grabbed your purse from the drawer under your desk. Between the morning you had and dealing with Miles, you were seriously going to need a drink tonight.

It took no time at all to pick up the food. You called ahead on your walk, and the workers there knew you fairly well as a regular. When you got back to the building there was a commotion in the lobby. More people than normal were milling about and a steady flow of people were streaming out of the first floor bullpen⏤ the exact place you were heading. You slipped through the crowd and as you got closer and closer to where Miles’ desk was the noise began to increase.

“⏤'nd you’re not fuckin’ listenin’ to me!”

The words reverberated into the hall stopping you dead in your tracks. Calling it a yell would be underselling the wall of sound that slammed into you. It was a roar⏤ earth shattering, enraged, and excruciating. You rushed into the bullpen, hand clutched tight to the to-go bag of food, and gazed over a sea of desks. The bullpen was where most Agents worked day to day. Usually, the routine tasks involved speaking to concerned citizens or interviewing suspects. A good bulk of the work involved filing reports when not out on the streets working on a case. However, the room was nearly empty and continued to get even emptier as people rushed past you. At the center, with the agent you were looking for, was a man you didn’t recognize.

He was gruff with broad shoulders covered in a worn out flannel. A peppering of gray littered the thick, dark hair atop his head and even spilled into the scruff on his face. The clear details that could be seen from a mile away was the redness in his face, the vein protruding along his neck as he yelled, and the rage simmering in his dark eyes. His anger was volatile and palpable. Your focus seemed to zoom in on the flash of pain, and once you saw it… it was all you could see. This was a man suffering. Amongst all that rage was heart wrenching fear and agony.

“Sir⏤”

“Don’ you fuckin’ ‘sir’ me.” The man snapped and shoved at Agent Jackson. “You son of a bitch, listen⏤”

Miles pointed in his face and the man snarled in response. “Don’t you take a tone with me. Do you know who I am?!” You got closer and you could see the man’s canines lengthen and his brown eyes flickered in shades of a burning gold. Wolf. He was a werewolf. Genetically speaking, there were hundreds of lineages from the initial werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were similar regardless of the coven, wolves differed. Based on what you could see here, this guy was probably from a local pack. The ones around here didn’t necessarily need the full moon and their emotions controlled a lot of their abilities. Miles ran a hand through his hair with a huff, “Now, Mr. Miller, we have your statement. If you’ll be patient with us⏤”

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now with this bullshit!?”

You weren’t sure how this guy got stuck talking to the least empathetic and least helpful Agent in the entire building, but your heart went out to him. While Miles rattled off a long winded excuse, you crept forward to set the food on his desk and your eyes landed on an open report. The wolf’s name was Joel Miller, and as your eyes scanned the page you understood his rage.

“Your daughter is missing?” You gasped. Both men snapped their gazes at you. Miles glared at your intrusion, but Joel’s narrowed eyes held more questioning than rage toward you. You picked up the report to read the details, but all you could think of were the other missing children cases⏤ the Mandalorian this morning and his missing child. The report in your hand was poorly written which you expected of Miles. “When did you last see⏤”

“I already took his statement.” Miles snapped at you.

Joel, on the other hand, pointed his finger at the file with a glare, “Does it not say it in there??” Sensing the tension, you were hesitant to nod your head. Joel filled in the blanks though and snarled at Miles. “You fuckin' bastard. Are you not takin' this seriously!? She's a kid! She's only fourteen! I swear to the Gods, I’ll⏤”

“I assure you that we have what we need.” Miles snatched the report from your hands. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant. She isn’t trained." You sucked in a sharp breath, your own rage beginning to bubble up, at his words. As if you needed extensive training to read a piece of paper. “Pumpkin, you’re excused.”

“I’m not your assistant.” You spat at him. “Have you considered the other missing kids?”

Joel’s eyes widened, “'Scuse me?”

Miles scoffed and shook his head to glare at you, “That has nothing to do with⏤”

“And there was a Mandalorian here this morning whose kid disappeared overnight.”

Miles chuckled and the sound pissed you off further. It had the same effect on Joel Miller who looked close to shifting into his wolf form to leap across the desk and maul the man. Miles motioned toward you, “Well, that’s it then. Mandalorian.” You furrowed your brow. “I would bet my money on this being a blood feud. Wolves vs fangs.”

You shook your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“The wolves took the vampire kid, and in retaliation the vampires took the wolf’s kid.” Miles argued confidently. He turned to Joel and gave a slight shrug while scooping up the bag of food you had brought for him. “We will look into the matters, and we will call you with further information.”

“That’s it? You’ll call me?” Joel yelled. The wolf slapped the bag of food out of Miles’ hand and to the ground. “My daughter is fuckin' missin' 'nd that’s all you’re gonna give me right now!?”

Miles slammed his hand against his desk while staring at his lost meal. His glare toward the wolf deepened, a move you found to be hilarious considering Miles was far from intimidating, but you watched as his hand went to his hip where his service weapon rested. Your eyes widened and you set a hand on Miles’ chest to draw his attention to you.

“Stop.” You warned. “That’s a bad idea.” Miles locked his jaw and you tried to defuse the situation. “This isn’t right. Your theory is wrong. A wolf pack would never use a kid as a bargaining token in some rivalry.” You scoffed. “And the Mandalorians are the only vampire coven to allow children in their ranks. They literally adopt kids off the street to raise and care for. But you think they kidnapped a wolf’s child?”

Miles suddenly grabbed you by the arm roughly and squeezed hard enough to make you wince. The sound of a low warning growl filled the air, but all your attention was focused on the loathing rage in Miles’ eyes. He seemed… unhinged, somehow. With his other hand, Miles pointed a finger in your face. “Listen to me, pumpkin.” He snapped. “You need to stop playing ‘Agent’. You’re a bookish errand girl who has no idea what she’s talking about or trying to get involved in.” His words stung even more with Captain’s Roberts’ rejection still ringing fresh in your mind. “It’s pathetic how desperate you are to be an agent like your mommy. Especially considering, you’ll never be what she was. You’ll never be more than the useless, desperate⏤”

Your hand curled into a fist and lashed out before you had even a second to think. Miles’ nose crunched under your now throbbing knuckles and blood splattered down his blue shirt. He cried out in pain and you stiffened in realization at what you had done. “You bitch! I’ll get you fired for this!”

Angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, you spun on your heel to rush away. Miles was still hollering behind you in a rage and before leaving the room you gave one last glance over your shoulder. The goal was to glare at Miles or admire the new shape of his nose, but as if pulled by an unseen force your gaze landed directly on Joel. Once you made eye contact with the wolf, there was no looking away. There was a haunting power in the way he stared back and it seemed to singe a hole through your very being, and you could feel his agony⏤ his devastation and desperation. The embarrassment you felt grew as you realized you were useless to him. Just like Miles said. You mouthed a quick apology and left in a hurry.

Downtown Austin had a district for the supernatural. Not that any human knew that it was for the supernatural specifically. With the right words, a person could find themselves in underground Austin where a market and community lay hidden. As you saw no reason to sit around and wait for the consequences of your actions to find you, you climbed into your car to drive across the city to see a friend. Once parked, it took no time at all to find your favorite bar. It was one owned by a witch and open to any and all who were interested.

Despite being underground, ‘Lucille's’ did not feel closed off or stuffy. The ceiling was high, a spell cast to mimic the natural lighting for the time of day, and the walls and furniture were decorated in greenery making the room feel like a clearing in a forest. Usually when you were here it was late evening or night time so the bar would be lit accordingly, but as it was literally 2 in the afternoon it was pure midday sunlight that shone down on you.

The bar wasn’t empty. A number of patrons sat around enjoying a casual lunch or drink, but you weaved through the tables to make your way to the actual bar. It was made of thick mahogany wood and glass. Behind the bar, the shelf was lined with liquors and raw materials. Jars filled with dragon scales, phoenix feathers, wormwood, and any other ingredient that could be used for spells or drinks. There was a glow from behind the shelf itself that shifted in a swirling of soft colors.

As you sat down on a cushioned bar stool, you saw a familiar forest nymph walking out of the back carrying a box. Her pale green skin was accented by a darker, vine like pattern that encircled her limbs and torso⏤ made even more clear to see due to the loose, white tank top she wore. Her vibrant pink hair was pulled back into two buns atop her head and littered with yellow and blue flowers. She dropped the box with a grunt and her brown eyes landed on you in shock.

“Whoa! What’re you doing here??”

“Hey, Nima.”

“You here for lunch?”

“Not exactly.” You gave her a tight lipped smile as she bounced over with a bright grin. She stood close enough that you could see the slight movements of the vine-like pattern on her skin and it must have been close enough for her to see the misery in your features. Before she could begin her interrogation, you lifted your dominant hand to nod toward your bruised knuckles. “Can I have an ice pack?”

Nima wrapped a handful of ice in a rag for you to set on your hand and listened quietly as you told her about your day from start to finish.

“First off, I’m making you a stiff drink.” Nima grabbed a glass and she knew your preferences enough that you didn’t need to say a word. “Secondly, after you down this we’re getting in my car and we’re gonna go kill Agent ‘Shit for Brains’.” Your lips twitched up in amusement. “Thirdly⏤”

“How many bullet points are in this pep talk?” You asked. “Just so I can keep track.”

“You would make a gods damn brilliant Agent.” Nima paused in drink making to point at you. “I don’t care what anyone else says.” She shook the metal tumbler three times before pouring the drink in the martini glass. The light pink liquid bubbled and fizzed. She set it in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at the glittering light that shimmered from the bubbles that popped in it. Nima shrugged, “So, I added a joy charm to your drink. Sue me.”

The corner of your lip twitched up and you didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to your lips. The fizzing bubbles of the joy charm tickled your mouth and it reminded you of eating pop rocks as a kid. Unlike the pop rocks, it left an immediate light hearted buzz in your brain that made the glow of the lights around you seem a little bit brighter. Coming here had been the right decision. Between the drinks and Nima’s threats against Miles’ life you were feeling a bit better.

Nima stayed with you chatting for a while longer, but when a group of elves noisily wandered in she had to veer away to serve them. You finished the last of your drink, pushed the glass aside, and then folded your arms to lean on the bar with a hum. The joy charm left your brain with the happy buzz, but your heart still felt heavy. All you wanted to do in life was help others, like your mom had, and now you were going to get fired. You couldn’t even provide support for the people who were helping others.

So much for being vital.

You absentmindedly began to count the bottles on the expansive shelf in hopes to keep your mind occupied until Nima could come back and distract you. It was around 116 that you felt somebody sit on the stool right beside you. Any annoyance you felt at a stranger picking a seat so close to you when there were so many other open stools was muted by the effects of the joy charm. You continued to count and at 200 the stranger said your name.

Eyes wide, you turn your head and the sight of Joel Miller’s glare you jumped in surprise, “Gods!” You were sitting up now, half hanging off your stool, while gripping the edge of the bartop. “What are you… How do you know my name??”

“I asked 'round.” Joel replied gruffly. Unsure of what to say, you bobbed your head awkwardly. He had his arm resting on the bar as he faced you, and his hand was balled up in a tight fist. The wolf was wound up tight⏤ ready to snap at the slightest provocation. “Now tell me more 'bout the Mandalorian.”

You scrunched your nose, still in disbelief that this wolf followed you in the first place, “Um, DMA restricts me from giving out the information of someone else. I’m not really supposed to do it without going through the proper channels.”

“Yeah, well, you don’ really got a job anymore, far as I can tell.”

“I still have a job. I haven’t been fired.” You countered with a nod then mumbled. “Yet.”

Joel leaned in closer and you stiffened at his growl, “You think my Ellie missin' has somethin' to do with the Mandalorian?”

You assumed that was the name of his daughter. “I can’t say anything for certain. I mean, I don’t know anything⏤”

“You knew more than that bonehead Agent.”

“That’s not hard.” You mumbled with a quiet snort. Joel did not seem amused and continued to burn through you with his gaze. You cleared your throat and nodded. “All I know is the number of missing persons cases involving children has been higher this last month than usual, and some Mandalorian is missing his own kid.” Joel gave a slight nod and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s the feud between wolves and vampires doing this. I know that’s what Miles assumed but… I just have this weird feeling that⏤ that something else is going on.”

Joel clenched his jaw before speaking, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, defeated. “I don’t have evidence or a good reason. It’s just a... gut instinct.”

You squirmed under Joel’s continued gaze until he finally looked away. He turned in his seat to face forward and now you were the one staring. With how tense the wolf was, he looked to be made of stone. A handsome statue wearing a scowl that could fill even the gods with a chill.

Nima bounced back over and gave Joel a skeptical glance. She raised an eyebrow at you in question and you waved your hand in front of your neck to signal her to leave him alone. Nima scooped up your empty glass and carried it away.

“Where is he?”

Your head snapped back to Joel, eyes wide, “Sorry?”

“Where is the Mandalorian?” Joel demanded slowly. “I wanna talk to 'im.”

“I⏤I have no idea, man.” A laugh of disbelief left your lips. “The local Mandalorian coven is a mystery. They’re more tight lipped than any other coven I’ve heard about. Only a few people even know where they hide.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s all you got for me?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry. If I had known you were going to stalk me out of the building⏤” Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “⏤then I would’ve prepared accordingly. My bad.”

Joel hissed a curse under his breath. His eyes closed and a hand rubbed his jawline before resting over his mouth⏤ attempting to settle himself, you assumed. You glanced over at Nima who was staring at you in concern and you gave her a quick nod and pointed to the wolf beside you. A few moments later, Nima came over and placed a glass of dark liquor in front of you. She mouthed the words, ‘You good?’, and you gave her a tight lipped smile. She shot Joel another wary glance before moving over to her other customers.

You cleared your throat and pushed the drink in Joel’s direction. He opened his eyes and stared down at the drink. Joel sniffed the air then furrowed his brow, “That’s Lavagulin.” You shrugged. That sounded right, but you didn’t know the dark liquor types well enough to confirm it. His gaze turned skeptical and paranoid, “How do you know my drink of choice?”

“Oh, I don’t.” You held your hands in surrender. “Nima does.” You pointed to the forest nymph who was flipped a tumbler with a broad grin. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can guess anybody’s drink of choice. I’ve never seen her fail.” Joel stared for a second more before picking up the drink and taking a long sip of it. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could help.”

Joel didn’t respond to your comfort and just continued to drink. You briefly considered calling Captain Roberts. Miles had probably already gone to the man to snitch on you for breaking his nose. There was no way you wouldn’t get canned for the attack, even the Captain couldn’t protect you from that, but somebody should know that Miles was out of line with a citizen. Joel Miller needed real help to find his daughter, and gods knew that Agent Miles Jackson wasn’t going to be of any use. As the thought crossed your mind, you tilted your head. Help. Joel needed help.

“I could help.” You blurted out loud.

“What?” Joel was nearly finished with his drink.

“I could help!” You repeated. Why hadn’t you thought about this before? Joel needed help, and you needed to prove that this was a job you were more than capable of. “My mom was an Agent⏤ one of the best. She had all these connections and…” Joel was now facing you entirely as he had turned in his seat. For the first time since you met him, you saw more than just anger, panic, and pain in his eyes. There was a flicker of hope. You shot him a smile. “I think I can find out where the Mandalorian coven is.”

Joel leaned forward on his seat, “Where?”

“We need to go to my apartment. There’s a journal with a map.” You jumped up and began to root through your bag for your wallet.

“What’s going on?” Nima came back over. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s a⏤ it’s a long story.”

“Everything alright though?”

You huffed when you couldn’t find your wallet, “What? Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just give me a second. I think my wallet is buried under here somewhere.”

Nima shook her head with a frown, “I’m not taking your money.”

“What’re you talking about?” You demanded.

“You don’t have a job. I’m not taking your money, babe.” You winced at her half true comment. The DMA didn’t pay you all that great anyways considering your position wasn’t super high on the career ladder. But then again, if you solved this case and proved your worth then you could be the Agent you knew you were capable of being. Suddenly, Joel held out a few folded bills. Your eyes widened, but Nima snatched the money from his hands with a smirk. “You on the other hand, I can very much take money from.”

Joel ushered you out of the bar as Nima waved after you and demanded you call her later. The wolf said he’d follow behind you in his own truck which you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with considering he had done it once before. You just prayed the plan you had in mind was actually going to pan out.

If you had known you’d have a near feral werewolf sitting in your living room this afternoon, you would’ve cleaned up a little better before leaving in the morning. You scrambled through your room searching for the journal that you knew was somewhere around here.

“You got it, yet?” Joel barked from the other room.

“Almost! Just⏤ Just hang on!”

Finally, you found the journal buried under a stack of papers on your desk. You mumbled your relief and immediately began to flip through the journal pages searching for something that could point you in the direction of the Mandalorians. You knew for a fact that your mother had a connection⏤ either directly or indirectly. You managed to find the vague map scribbled out midway through the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had ten minutes ago. You took a quick picture of it with your phone and began to leave your room only to pause. Frozen in place, your eyes darted over to your bedside drawer. After a second of contemplation, you hurried over and pulled out the handgun tucked away for safekeeping. The only ammunition you had was regular bullets and silver ones. Neither would help against a vampire, especially a Mandalorian vampire decked out in ceremonial armor, but the idea of having it on you brought some semblance of comfort. You tugged on your shoulder holster and triple checked the weapon before safely tucking it in place. The last two things you grabbed before leaving your room was a jacket to wear over the holster, keeping it mostly hidden, and your mother’s old badge.

When you stepped out into the living room, Joel was standing and staring at a few pictures on your wall. His eyebrows were drawn together, deep in thought, as his attention was focused in on a picture of you and your mother from when you were a child.

You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You opened your mouth to explain the picture, but Joel closed the space between the two of you back on target, “Where is it? The coven?”

“Here.” You opened your phone to point to the picture you had taken.

Joel narrowed his eyes, “That’s all you got? You don’ got an address or somethin'?”

“An address?” You scoffed. “They live underground in the middle of nowhere. Sorry I don’t have a PO box to type into google for you. We can find it with this. Let’s go⏤”

“We??”

You set your hands on your hips with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, we.”

“You’re not goin'.”

“I’m not letting you and your pack stampede into a vampire coven!”

“I don’ have a pack.” Joel shook his head, and you tried to hide your surprise. “I work better alone. Now give me the map.”

“Fine,” You corrected, “I’m not letting a lone werewolf storm a vampire coven.”

“And how is addin' a human to the mix gonna tip the odds in my favor, sweetheart?” Joel scoffed and motioned to you.

“For one, they won’t kill me on sight for being a werewolf.” You argued. “And two,” You pulled the badge out of your pocket and flashed it to him, “I’m an impartial party. A peacekeeper.”

Joel snarled, “If they do have my kid for some reason, I don’ plan on keepin' the peace.”

“Yeah, see, that sentence proved my point. You need me.”

Joel opened his mouth to argue more, and you were fully prepared to counter anything he threw your way, but then he surprised you by locking his jaw and giving you a stiff nod. You hadn’t actually expected that to work. Joel turned to leave your apartment with a grunt and you hurried after him.

“Also, we’re taking my car.”

After another short lived argument, you managed to wrestle Joel into your vehicle. According to the map, the coven was just outside Austin city limits, truly in the middle of nowhere, and it would take at least an hour to get in the vicinity. Then you’d have to search for it further. The drive was just as awkward as you would’ve guessed it to be. Joel didn't seem like the type of man who enjoyed small talk even on a good day let alone right now. Unfortunately, the more nervous you got the more you seemed to want to talk.

“So, can I ask you something?” You blurted.

“No.”

“Oh.”

An even more tense silence filled the air between the two of you as you focused on the road ahead. Joel sighed and shook his head, “What?”

“You said you don’t have a pack.” You continued on with your line of questioning despite the lackluster permission he gave.

“Is there a question somewhere in there?”

“Is it true?” You asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a werewolf without a pack.”

“Well, now you have. Congrats.” Joel replied dryly.

Your cellphone began to vibrate and the name ‘Captain Roberts’ flashed on the screen. You ignored the call, “So, it’s just you and your family then?”

“It’s me 'nd Ellie. That’s it.” Joel grunted. He shrugged after a beat, “Got a brother too but he’s still in the pack. Tried to leave when I did, but I convinced him not to.”

“Oh, so you left on your own.” You voiced the thought aloud. Your phone began to vibrate again. ‘Captain Roberts’. Ignore. “Why…” You were very, very curious as to why a werewolf would willingly leave his pack to be on his own⏤ or on his own with his daughter, you should say. But, it seemed too personal for you to pry into. “What’s Ellie like?”

Joel paused in thought. “She’s smart, but she’s also trouble. Bit of a little shit.” There was a small smile on his face as he said the words. “Obsessed with these stupid jokes 'nd puns.”

“She sounds fun.” You chuckled. “You said she was fourteen?” Joel nodded once. For the third time, your phone began to vibrate and you hit the ignore button with more force than needed. “What⏤”

“You ain't gonna answer that?” Joel questioned.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s just gonna be a long conversation about disappointment and it’ll probably end in my termination. Roberts, the Captain, likes me, but Miles⏤ the Agent whose nose I broke⏤ he’s kind of a big deal.”

Joel scoffed, “He’s a big deal?”

“Not in a ‘good at his job’ way. More in a ‘my daddy owns you’ kind of way.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, when he said he was gonna get me fired he meant it.” You sighed. “It’s all about knowing the right people, and he’s related to the right people so it’s even worse.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled with a sigh. This time there was a notification about a voicemail being left along with the missed calls. That was not a message you were eager to listen to. The rest of the drive passed in silence, but it wasn’t as tense as the start of the trip. You drove your car off road where the map suggested. The map had a shaded portion where the coven supposedly was, and you prayed they hadn’t recently moved. You drove, scanning for some kind of the symbol drawn on the map, and when Joel spotted it carved into a tree you parked the car. “So, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say…”

“Then don’ say it.”

“I think you should stay with the car.” You said it anyways.

Joel stared at you as if you had grown a second head, “Are you outta your gods damned mind? I’m not sittin' here 'nd waitin'⏤”

“If it’s me alone I can talk to them as an Agent of the DMA and question⏤”

“You’re not an Agent.”

“I’m also not a werewolf.” You snapped. Joel had his jaw locked so tight that you could hear him grinding his teeth against one another. You held a hand out towards him to plead your case. “I’m not gonna say that I get it because I don’t have a kid. I could never fully understand how you feel right now, but… Joel, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find Ellie. If we go in together it’ll stir them up, but maybe if I’m alone they’ll stay calm enough to answer some questions. I’m not a threat to them. I’m just a dumb human, after all.”

Joel turned away and rubbed his face. The exhaustion and frustration were clear to see. He sighed, “Fine. You have twenty minutes. Twenty minutes 'nd then I’m goin' after you whether you like it or not.”

“Deal.” You agreed.

You reached over him, he stiffened at the closeness, but you mumbled an apology and rooted through your glove compartment. There was a small, travel bottle of perfume that Nima had tucked away for you. It was one you never used, a bit too strong for your liking, but she was adamant about keeping it around in case of emergent night outs when you needed to get ready on the go. There was a collection of hair products and makeup tucked somewhere in your back seat too.

After finding it, you opened the car door and began to spray it all over yourself. It took only two squirts of the bottle when Joel began to cough. He rubbed his nose with a deep frown, “What the fuck are you doin'?”

“I’m trying to get the smell of wolf off of me.”

“You’re ruinin' your scent.” Joel grumbled with no further elaboration. You sprayed yourself three more times just to be sure, and ended up hacking up a long yourself as the strong floral scent hit you like a truck. Joel chuckled, “See?”

“Here’s to hoping the Mandalorians hate how I smell too. I’ll be right back.”

You closed the driver’s side door and marched out to walk past the tree with the carving. Joel called out after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you saw he had rolled the window down. Joel nodded once, “Careful, sweetheart.”

With a reassuring smile, you gave him a thumbs up that he shook his head at before rolling the window back up. Your reassuring smile falter once you faced away from him and you steeled your nerves as you pressed into the thick of the trees. You could do this. You could handle this. You were vital.

The goal was to follow the trail of carved symbols in the trees. It drove you deeper into the forest and after finding four more you noticed that the path had looped you into a circle so you were back in front of symbol three. Worry briefly flooded your senses as you thought you may have taken a wrong turn and time was ticking down. Joel would be kicking down your car door to come find you and gods knew with the amount of perfume you wore it wouldn’t be hard.

You blew out an annoyed breath and kept on, but you only got a few feet further when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you.

“Gods!” You cried and scrambled back a few steps. The Mandalorian in front of you was towering in height and immensely broad. He wore navy pieces of armor, and you couldn’t fathom how someone so large and dressed in so much metal could be so loud. He stood still, like a statue, and his blank helmet stared down at you. Quickly, you readjusted your stance and cleared your throat. With as much confidence as you could muster, you pulled out the badge and flashed it at him⏤ introducing yourself as an Agent with your last name. “I’m with the DMA, and I’d like you to take me to your leader.” You winced as the words came out awkward. “I mean, I’d like to speak with someone on a missing persons case. I believe it would be in the benefit of your coven. Is there someone in charge I can speak to?”

The Mandalorian said nothing and you tucked your badge back into your pocket. You weighed the pros and cons of opening your mouth again, but before you could come to a conclusion he held his hand out toward you. Hesitantly, you reached out and the second your fingers brushed against his the Mandalorian tugged you toward himself and threw you over his shoulder. A cry of disdain left your lips but the world became a sudden blur of color and sound as wind whipped past you and with a few blinks you were no longer in the forest. He dropped you with no announcement and you grunted as you hit the cold, stone floor.

“Thanks for the warning.” You scoffed and tried to get your bearings. Nausea rolled through you and the room felt like it was spinning. When your brain finally caught up to what had happened, you glanced around to see he had carried you into a cavern. Light spilled from overhead, like a spotlight, and with a glance up you realized he had dropped down into this cave system.

“Come.” The Mandalorian grunted and you struggled to your feet to follow him.

As he led you deeper into the cave, the walls were lit with torches. Doorways into other halls and rooms were carved into the wall, but this Mandalorian led you straight down the center. Other Mandalorians like him began to gather and peer out of the spaces to stare at you and it took all of your might to keep your shoulders straight and your chin held high.

At the end of the cavern, was a circular room that was taller than it was wide. A stone structure was built in the center of the room and the shape and fire burning at it’s center reminded you of an old timey forge where weapons used to be made. The navy Mandalorian you had been following barked out in a different language⏤ Mando’a if you remembered correctly⏤ and a different Mandalorian with a helmet of gold stepped out from a back doorway into the room. The shape of her armor seemed more feminine and around her waist hung a thick metal hammer.

“You are not the Agent described to me.” She said in a smooth and calm voice.

“Sorry?” You replied confused.

She repeated your last name. “You are not her.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh. Oh! Right, no. Um, you’re thinking of my mother. You knew her?”

“Very well.” The Mandalorian confirmed. Two other Mandalorians stepped into the circular room just to stand against the wall with the large navy one, and it made your skin crawl nervously. It seemed like overkill. Just one Mandalorian could demolish you. You didn’t understand why they needed a total of four with you. “Why are you here, young one?”

You nodded, back to business, “This morning I saw a Mandalorian at the DMA headquarters. He was filing a report on a missing child. He was⏤ His armor was all silver. Like a shiny silver, and his under suit looked brown?” You tried to recall any details you remembered of him, but it was really the bright shine to his armor that stayed in your mind. “Anyways, we’ve had a string of missing children and I wanted to speak to this Mandalorian⏤”

The three Mandalorians behind you barked out a word you didn’t recognize and you jumped in place. The leader hummed, “He is no Mandalorian.”

“Uh,” You squinted with a twist of your lips, “He looked very Mandalorian⏤”

They barked the same word again. She spoke once more, “Din Djarin.”

“What?”

“That is the man you seek.” She said. “He has broken his creed. He is Mandalorian no longer. We do not associate with him.” You scrunched your nose in disbelief. Of all the rotten luck. You manage to actually find the mysterious Mandalorian coven only to find out that the one Mandalorian you sought out was excommunicated from his coven. Great. “Is that all you have come for?”

“Technically, yes.” You replied slowly. “Unless, do you know anything about his kid? Or where I can find him?”

“No.” She answered simply and bluntly. Fantastic. Outside the room, you could hear hissed whispers and low growls. Two sounds you never considered good news. “Are you prepared to pay your price?”

You focused back on her, “The price for what?”

“For your life.”

At those three words, you felt your blood run cold. Nowhere in your mom’s journal did it mention any sort of price. The noises outside grew louder and one of the angry growls was unfortunately familiar. You cursed under your breath and turned just in time for two Mandalorians to drag in a thrashing Joel. They forced him to his knees with a hiss. One gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and you saw Joel’s teeth lengthen as the color of his eyes began to flicker in shade.

“Joel.” You blurted and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You gave a discreet shake of your head, and the burning gold of his eyes returned to a warm brown.

“Your twenty minutes was up.” He grunted.

“Young one.” You spun in place and the leader of the Mandalorians was dangerously close. You tried to take a step back, but her hand wrapped around your throat. Joel snarled for her to let you go, and you held up a hand behind you in hopes to reassure him. Her hand wasn’t restricting your air. It just rested there. A vague threat. “Will you pay your price?”

You swallowed, unable to see a situation where denying her ended well for either of you, “Yes?”

The leader used the hand around your throat to tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck, and then she moved quicker than you could see. Her other arm was a blur and you felt a sting of pain against your neck. The room’s air seemed to thicken with tension as she held up a blade smeared with your blood. She released you and began to stalk toward the forge. You rubbed at your neck nervously. You weren’t bleeding out, but it shook you to your core all the same. The leader whispered in Mando’a before flicking beads of your bright red blood into the fire at the forge’s center. The blue flames flashed white before returning to their natural state.

She turned and tucked the knife away. “You have paid your price. Paz will take you above ground.” She nodded to the navy Mandalorian that had brought you in. “The wolf stays.”

“Wait, no⏤” You began.

“He will die for trespassing.”

“Hang on!” You scooted away from Paz. “Can’t he pay the price? Or can I pay for him?” Somehow, through a helmet, the leader managed to shoot you a dry look. That’s how you interpreted it, at least. Paz was stalking toward you as Joel thrashed in the arms of the Mandalorians and your mind raced for a plan. Just as he reached out to grab you, you blurted, “Riddur!”

The room froze and even Joel paused in his rage to stare at you. The leader titled her head. You pointed back to Joel, “He is my riddur.”

“You know what that word means?” She questioned.

“Yes.” You nodded. The Mandalorians were the most family oriented of the vampire covens. The bond between lovers was sacred. ‘Riddur’ was translated to spouse, but it carried a heavier weight than the english word. They may have hated wolves, but you prayed to the gods that they respected the bond enough to let it carry over outside the coven. “Please. Don’t do this.”

There was an agonizing pause where you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. The leader gave a curt nod and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You may take your riddur and leave.” The Mandalorians released Joel and stepped back. You hurried over to his side to loop an arm through his. “But, young one?” You stared at the leader and the gaze she cast your way was nerve wracking. “Do not come here again. The price to pay next time will be steep.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks before dragging Joel out the way you had come in. All the Mandalorians in the cave continued to stare. Joel kept pace with you and whispered, “Ellie? Did you find the Mandalorian we were lookin' for?”

“No. He’s not here. He was kicked out of his coven.” You replied. “We have to look elsewhere.”

Joel spat a curse out under his breath, but thankfully he continued to rush out with you rather than turn back. As you reached the spot where you entered you suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been you who came in. You stared up at the hole in the ground and sighed, “Joel⏤”

“Hold on.” Joel scooped you up and jumped. You yelped in surprise at the height he managed. It cleared the hold and he landed on the ground by the edge. At the landing, you heard his knees crack and Joel grumbled in annoyance before setting you down. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You replied.

The two of you sped through the forest and didn’t slow your pace until your car was in sight. Joel glanced your way, “Riddur.” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, uh, it means spouse?” You offered. “In the werewolf setting I suppose the closer term would be ‘mate’? It’s a bond between lovers.” Joel raised an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “I just knew that Mandalorians took that kind of thing seriously. It was the only idea I had to get us out of there.”

He stared for a long moment, long enough to make you nervously rub the back of your neck, and then he nodded, “Thanks for that. I… I appreciate your help.” Joel grunted uncomfortably. Your lips twitched up into a smile. The two of you reached the car and climbed in. Before you could start it up, Joel cleared his throat. “It was 'cause of Ellie.”

“What?”

“Earlier. I know you wanted to ask why I left my pack. It was for Ellie.” Joel responded. “She… We’re not related by blood. She’s actually… Ellie is only half wolf.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you stayed silent so he could continue. “My pack didn’ want half breeds. That’s where they drew the line.” Joel sunk in his seat and rubbed his jaw⏤ a nervous tick of his you were realizing. “But she’s my daughter. They didn’ get that so I left.”

You pressed your lips together and started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but at last minute you dropped your hand and shot him a smile. “Thank you for telling me. We are going to find her.” You shrugged. “We need some other way to find the ex-Mandalorian, but we have a name now and I… I‘ll think of something. I swear it, Joel. I’m not gonna rest until we find her, okay?”

“Yeah, alright, sweetheart.” He replied. You started the car and began to turn it around when Joel let out a cough. “You smell awful, by the way.”

“Thank you for that. Appreciate it very much.”

Come hell or high water, you were going to find Din Djarin. As you drove, a few ideas came to mind. Terrible, terrible ideas, but beggars can’t be choosers at the end of the day. You shot Joel another glance out of the corner of your eye and your resolve steeled. This was more than just about redeeming yourself and getting your job back. You were going to find Ellie for Joel even if it killed you.

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