julian graves

I wanted to show you something,” Julian said, and drew from his jacket a rolled-up paper. He handed it across the table to Annabel.
It was a drawing he had done of Emma, on Chapel Cliff, the sea breaking under her feet. He had been pleased with the way he had captured the wistful look on her face, the sea thick as paint below her, the weak sun gray-gold on her hair.
“Emma Carstairs. My parabatai,” said Julian.
Annabel raised grave eyes. “Malcolm spoke of her. He said she was stubborn. He spoke of all of you. Malcolm was afraid of you.”
Julian was stunned. “Why?”
“He said what Tiberius said. He said you would do anything for your family.”
You have a ruthless heart. Julian pushed away the words Kieran had said to him. He couldn’t be distracted. This was too important. “What else can you tell from the picture?” he said.
“That you love her,” said Annabel. “With all of your soul.
—  Lord Of Shadows, Cassandra Clare
I See Wings Pt. 2

Hey guys! Here’s the second part of I See Wings! I’m probably going to release one more part depending on how things work with the plot. Feel free to offer any constructive criticism! Anyway, please enjoy!

Summary: After awakening from being kidnapped, you realize who is your captor. Thoughts are in italics

Age: 16ish

Warnings: None

Tags: @winchesters-favorite-girl @the-third-winchester-warrior @ally-miller16 @haleyhay96 @jensen-jarpad @fantasticburninglakes @briebrie152 @my-own-paradise-fuckers

A voice quietly breaks through the thick bubble of unconsciousness surrounding you. You stir a little. The first thing you recognize is that you’re shivering like crazy. You somewhat register the awkward position of your body.  You slowly crack open your eyes. There you sit, crudely propped up against a frigid wall of cement. The floor is also cold. Bare.

Warehouse. I’m in a warehouse.

You open your eyes some more and try to gather in your surroundings. Your wrists are tied together behind your back. You slip a finger around the material. Thick rope. Your legs are bound as well, at the knees and ankles. Whoever wanted you evidently did not you going anywhere soon. You twitched your foot around in your combat boot. Your foot brushes against a familiar metal. Despite the situation, the corner of your mouth twitches upward. Your kidnapper didn’t frisk you for weaponry.

Rookie mistake.

The voice that disturbed you earlier found its way to your ears again. You try to turn to find the source. Unfortunately, it’s too far away for you to make out specific words, but you can understand some bits and pieces.

“Yes….human….unharmed….for extraction….understand….Winchesters….

Your heart starts pounding harder at the name of your family. What was happening? What did your brothers have to do with this? You struggle to change your body position quietly as you tremble from the cold. The rope chafes around your knees through your thick jeans. You bend over to try and find the rope’s knot. You twist your legs around.

Are you freaking kidding….

The rope is tied underneath your knees; if it was in another spot, you could’ve tried to pick at the knot with your teeth, undo it slowly. But, to reach this knot, you’d probably end up hurting yourself. And, then again, you probably wouldn’t be able to pick apart any knot with your teeth chattering incessantly.

You toy with other options in your mind when you spot a piece of metal near you. You inch forward to get a good look. It’s two pieces welded perpendicularly together. Whoever did it though didn’t smooth it out; it’s got just the kind of edge you need to saw through the bindings on your wrists. An escape plan begins to form in your mind.

You move your wrists back and forth along the metal piece. You bite your lip and wince when it you miss the rope and nick yourself sometimes. Back and forth. Your teeth continue chatter from the chill in the air. It wasn’t a particularly cold night when you left, but the cement floors and walls around you kept things colder. And who knows what time it is right now.

Before you can get any good progress done, you hear footsteps. Heavy ones. You stop and move back to where you found yourself. The footsteps come closer, coming from your right. You turn your head. You gasp a little.

Your kidnapper stops in front of you. Dark Italian shoes adorn his feet, a jacketless tuxedo the rest of him. A black bow tie hangs undone  on a white ruffled shirt. But this is not what shocks you. The nighttime darkness shrouds the warehouse in an inky haze, but you can still tell that the man in front of you is African-American. You’re not surprised by this either. It’s not the kidnapper himself that startles you; it’s what’s behind him.

Wings. Enormous wings with the color and radiance of starlight. Gently twinkling as if they were made of porcelain plumage. Thick and full, they swoop up and around the man rather than drag on the dirt worn ground. Your mouth hangs open at the beauty and grace of the angel you recognize before you.

A piece of Cas’s lecture from earlier pops through your head. “If a human had an angel for their soulmate, the angel needs not to change their wings for the human to see.”

I’ve been kidnapped by my soulmate….sounds like a bad romance novel title.

“You will not be here for much longer.” His voice. It floats across the air easier than swans on water. You look into the angel’s luminous eyes. Bright blue, the rarest combo on earth. And literally shining because, well, it’s an angel.

“Wh-Who are you?” Your teeth will not stop chattering.

The angel stares at you flatly. “I am currently occupying the vessel of a musician named Julian Graves.” Gosh, you loved that voice.

“You’re real name, you idjit,” you kvetch, letting Bobby’s ever favorite phrase slip through. The angel seems to finally pick up the fact that you’re shivering violently.

“You are cold.” The man turns around and walks away from you.

“You d-didn’t answer m-my question-n, jerk!” you chatter out. You can still the footsteps of the angel; you decide to name him Mojo for now. The stepping stops. Then comes back towards you. You turn your head preparing for the worst.

“J-just do it alread-dy.” You grit your teeth trying to force your mouth to stay still. If you were going to die, you shouldn’t be like a wind-up teeth toy. Mojo returns with something. You close your eyes.

But instead of a knife blade, as you expect, you feel a soft cloth. You open your eyes. Mojo has brought you a black cloth of some kind. You notice delicate, shining, black buttons running along the side.

His suit coat….you realize. The gentleman’s gesture.

“Wh-what are y-you d-doing?”

“I am sent to bring you in, not give you hypothermia,” Mojo stated bluntly. “It would not be fair to my garrison leader if she was forced to heal you first.”

You begin to feel the jacket warm you up. Barely. “W-what are you talking about?” you pry carefully.

Mojo knits his eyebrows together. “I was told you would do this. It is a defining characteristic of a Winchester to try and extract information from their captor.”

You put on a sweet smile. Mojo may be your soulmate maybe, but that’s no excuse for abducting you. “S-so you know about me then?” you ask in a honeyed voice, hoping to get some information.

“I know you are Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who the Winchesters have taken into their care. I know your father was killed by an encantado and your mother partnered with the hunter John Winchester on solving cases occasionally. I know you helped Sam and Dean Winchester research hunts when you were a child.. Your mother was killed by a nest of vampires so Sam and Dean took you into their care.” Mojo pauses as you feel anger rise inside of you. “And I know you still are a child.”

“Not for much longer,” you mutter bitterly.

Mojo tilts his head. “Human terms of time are confusing. A mere twenty-four hours can feel like eternity for some, yet the prospect of waiting two years is ‘not much longer’.”

“Yeah, well s-some of us get around more.”

“You are still cold. I am sorry, but there is not much else I can do for you until it is time for me to deliver you to Dinah.” Mojo adjusts the coat on you with his dark, handsome hands. “Is that any better?”

You choose to retaliate with a glare, which would’ve been a lot more intimidating if you weren’t shaking like the tail of a rattlesnake. “D-dinah, huh? Someone’s been working on the railroad.” Mojo stares at you confused. “Dinah. The nursery rhyme I’ve….oh f-forget it-t….”

Mojo goes over to a nearby piece of machinery. Or, you think it’s machinery. It’s impossible to tell in the darkness. “I can guarantee I will not harm you tonight, if that is what you are afraid of.” His pearl wings twitch gently. You can’t take your eyes off their glory.

“How c-come?” You try to gather more information. Strangely, you’re not really warming up from the coat like you thought you would.

“I am not the one who wishes to talk with you?”

“Oh, is-s that all you w-wanted-d? C-c-could’ve just-t called me you know,” you reply sarcastically.

Mojo straightens up, his great wings stretching towards the ceiling. “Why do you continue to pester me? You know that it will not be profitable in any way.”

You take a deep breath. “Bec-cause I want to know about you.”

Mojo tilts his head at you. “Why would you want to know information about me? Surely you have other knowledge worth pursuing.”

“Because I can see your wings. I know for a fact that you’re not trying to show them on purpose.” Mojo looks at you shocked. Tears are running down your face from the night chill. “So I ask-k because….” you take another breath before you say it.

“You’re my soulmate…I think.”