original bamf

alec had to admit, when magnus casually mentioned that alec should show him a few things about archery on a sunny tuesday morning in the target range of the institute, alec had felt a kind of smug pride burn in his chest. the sunlight had been filtering through the windows, catching bits of dust and catching at the tips of magnus’s spiked up hair and he looked… breathtaking. but more than that there was this amused kind of darkness around his eyes as he said it so casually, while alec still had an arrow nocked.

“what do you say?” magnus had finished with, tipping his head to the side slightly, leaning against one of the pillars. and alec was pretty sure his grin was blinding as he eagerly responded.

“i’d love to.”

maybe if he hadn’t been so smug he would have seen the mirth twinkling in magnus’s eyes but instead his pride eclipsed him and he turned back to the target, letting his arrow fly. it hit dead center and at that moment he felt entirely invincible if he was honest with himself.

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Well…since Bamon didn’t happen, and Lorenzo is dead. And I definitely don’t want Bonnie to go back to Jeremy. What I need to see is Bonnie finding her way in NOLA during her travels, and maybe hook up with Kol, Marcel, Klaus, or even Vincent. (Someone please write this fanfic ASAP!)

My girl don’t deserve to be traveling alone and given such an unsatisfying ending. Bonnie Freaking Bad@*$ Bennett saved Mystic Falls from hell-fire with her witchy powers; and have saved countless lives in previous seasons at the expense of her own life… but she never got any true just rewards for it.  

#BonnieDeservesBetter #BonnieTrueHappilyEverAfter 


S9, Ep 02: Devil May Care - “You know, I’ve loved this body since the moment I first saw it. You’re the perfect vessel, Dean. You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas. So go ahead and play hard to get. And I’ll peel off this ‘no demons allowed’ tattoo and blow smoke up your ass.

magnus wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but what he did know was that they were both still panting, their breathing heavy and shaky as they drove down winding roads, headlights lighting up lines of pine trees. it was still flooding his mind in strange flashes, the way the hounds had spilled into the parking lot, little blotches of black. they had been a swarm, their red eyes a strange sea, all flooded together, so many snapping jaws. they were smaller than the hellhounds magnus was used to but big enough that he didn’t want any of them taking a chunk out of his arm.

it had been such a flash then, alec’s swearing, magnus blasting a few of them with a shotgun, people screaming, the hellhounds targeting them, struggling with the doors of the car and finally getting in.  then the hellhounds had hit their black mustang, a deafening crash of snapping jaws and black bodies. magnus hadn’t waited to see what they would do. he slammed his foot on the gas pedal and they were out of there as fast as he could get them. they were tearing down the street as hellhound howls echoed through the city, car alarms going of, honking and tires screeching as other vehicles got out of their way.

magnus could still hear their pounding feet, could still hear their snapping jaws, he could still hear everything that had been happening even though they were now so far out of the city he didn’t recognize where he was at all. all he could see were the stands of trees, all he could hear were the tires on the road, the soft pattering of rain against the top of the car. there was so much flooding through his mind, he felt both calmer and more addled at this point.

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@thetourguidebarbie i saw this on your list of KC prompts and I couldn’t help myself. This will be rough since I’m on my phone.

Unleash The Beast

Caroline went from deep sleep to alertness in a fraction of a second, as evidenced by her eyes popping open. What woke her up was a loud boom in the sky. A loud boom in the sky that had no place waking her up.

She rose from the bed like the Undertaker, and she thought, when I get my hands on him, he’ll wish I was that brute.

He, in this case, was her husband. Niklaus. The man who apparently thought that setting off fireworks at – what the fuck – 3 AM was a good idea.

How did she know it was him, you may be wondering. Well, he wasn’t in bed with her and the accompanying laughter that followed each blast was a distinct one, one she’d heard everyday for a thousand years.

She also heard Kol’s laughter. Her scowl turned into a malicious grin. Any chance she got to berate not only Klaus but Kol, too, she took and quite gleefully at that.

She swept through the house at vampire speed, coming to the back porch and finding that yes, her husband and brother in law were outside with piles of explosives. Of all the dangerous hobbies Kol just had to rope Klaus into….

As soon as the door opened, Klaus stiffened. Good. He knew what was coming. Kol turned around, grinning like a goofy little puppy. Too bad for him that Caroline are goofy little puppies for breakfast.

She stepped into the grass, letting the humidity of the night wash over her before she unleashed the beast. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.

Then she opened them again, put her hands on her hips, and said as clearly as she could, “what the hell do you think you are doing?”

Klaus winced, opened his mouth to grovel. Kol interrupted whatever he was about to say with, “Carebear, we’re just having some fun. Really. No need for such ire.” She was almost proud to note that his eyes didn’t stray to her body, covered by only a t-shirt of Klaus’ and thankfully modest underwear. Maybe he was finally learning.

Klaus hissed and hit him over the head. “Kol, shut up.” He turned back to his wife. “Love, I’m sorry if we woke you up, we – ”

“You woke up everyone in this god awful town, Klaus, not just me.“ Her raised eyebrow made him stiffen further, instinctually wanting to rise to the bait. He didn’t; he was smarter than that.

"I suggest you stop with this foolish little bonding moment and come back to bed before I lock you out of our room,” she threatened. This was a threat bandied around often. Nothing was worse than not sleeping curled around each other (well, okay, not true, but true enough after their centuries). It wasn’t something he’d risk, she knew. He hadn’t done so in years.

His eyes widened, and he turned quickly to his brother. “Kol – ”

Kol grumbled, but dropped down to start cleaning the mess they’d made. It greatly amused her that Klaus hadn’t even had to say anything before he was obeying. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just go back upstairs so Caroline can get her precious beauty rest.”

Caroline took that as her leave, sweeping back upstairs to the bedroom. Klaus was hot on her heels, fidgeting nervously.

When they got to the room, she let him enter before saying, “next time you wake me up with fireworks, I swear, I will wring your neck.” She pointed for good measure.

He nodded, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, then.”

“Good. And for gods sake, please find a way to bond with Kol that doesn’t involve anything even remotely dangerous! Take him for a walk or something! God,” she sighed, settling into bed. She hoped she could fall back asleep.

Klaus laughed as he too settled in. He wrapped an arm around her waist, being her flush to him. His laugh vibrated his chest behind her, making her eyes close at the feeling. She was mad at him, but it wouldn’t be for long she knew. Not when was being all tactile and cute. (Goddamn him, she thought to herself.)

“He’s not a dog, love, I can’t take him to go meet friends and throw a stick around to occupy him for a little while.”

“Sure you can,” she countered. “Just go to the park and tell him I said if he doesn’t go along with it, he’ll regret it.”

She’d really only sic Rebekah on him, but he would shudder to even think it if he knew.

Klaus sighed, nuzzling his nose into her neck. You’re mad at him, she reminded herself. He woke you up.

“I’ll tell him,” he said, nipping her earlobe. “But I think it’s important that I remind you that you are not the one he’s truly scared of.”

Caroline laughed. How cute it was that he thought he was still the scary one. “Of course, darling,” she purred anyway. She could give him the illusion of power in their relationship, their family. But they both knew exactly who was the boss there, and it certainly wasn’t him.

laneyloooo  asked:

I was wondering if you could do a fic where dean has a daughter (it's not impossible he's had enough one night stands for it to be probable) and they take her back to the bunker and are like "this is-" and she's like "mr. Novak?" and everyone is confused and it turns out that the novaks helped out her mother and her when she was younger before he disappeared and she was friends with claire and has read the supernatural books and when they reveal he's cas she showers him with compliments and yeah

    Dean and Cas had gradually happened. It wasn’t all at once - which was obvious to anyone watching - but rather like a slow, rolling ball that just kept collecting love on the roll down the hill. There wasn’t a need to say it out loud often, because they just… knew. The angel and hunter had an understanding between each other - between the long glances, between the short hugs - that never was breathed out loud. Honestly, Sam probably knew that Dean was in love before Dean knew. 

Now that Dean’s realized it, things are relaxed. There’s a little ‘babe’ that slips out now and then. Cas doesn’t try to hide his glare anymore when a woman approaches Dean. The two spend long nights where Dean can’t sleep and they sit close, arms pressed together and legs stretched, whispering about their days and laughing as they make their way through Dean’s favorite sitcoms. Cas secretly hates Doctor Sexy - the show is so god damn bland and the doctor really, really gets under his skin - but he watches it anyway, just to see the corners of Dean’s lips pull up when a cheesy joke is made. 

No, there was never an official label, or an official “I love you”, but it was just understood. 

So that’s why, when Dean went out on a hunt with Sam and brought back a young girl, Cas was hurt. 

Another witch case - black magic, bad stuff. This coven wasn’t playing with the Little League anymore. 

When they crashed the barn where the coven was, the last thing Dean expected to see was his own eyes peering back at him. His freckles on someone else’s face - his hair grown out and a little messy. His bow legs turned in and his stubborn personality being spouted out of his own soft, pink lips. But there she was - just like Dean, wrapped into a beautiful young woman. 

Sam didn’t notice at first. He was going to capture her. Thoughts raced through his mind, and the most loud, pounding one was that this girl shouldn’t be scared. The thought of him frightening her was a burning stab right in his core. The ache in Dean’s chest was unreal - it was like protecting his soul as he shouted for Sam to stop. His brother halted the chanting, stopped walking towards her, and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He stared at Dean, expecting an answer. 

“Don’t… don’t hurt her. Please.” 

The whole coven was running now, except for a few who stayed behind - the truly brave (or truly stupid). 

One of the witches left behind gestured towards the girl. “Anna, let’s go.” 

She stood, staring coldly at the man in front of her in the eyes. “Why should we have to go? This is our place. They go.” 

“Anna’s your name, yeah?” Dean spoke softly, taking a step forward. “What are you doing? You’re what… thirteen, fourteen?” 

“Sixteen,” she retorted, disgusted with his interest. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

And that - that sentence - was all it took to snap Dean back nearly seventeen years, standing in front of a tall blonde who went by Stacy. Dean had asked her name - which resulted in the answer “Stacy - not that it’s any of your business.” 

Now, standing in front of her, Dean could see pieces of Stacy poking out. Her high cheekbones, her thin figure, her stubby eyelashes. 

“Stacy,” Dean breathed, taken aback. 

“What did you just say?” She was fuming that the hunter knew her mother’s name - what had he done to her? 

“You… your mom is Stacy, isn’t she?” 

Sam put his hands completely down, turning towards Dean. 

“Kill him!” 

“WAIT,” Dean cries, trying not to escalate the situation. “Your dad, do you know him?” 

“Why the fuck do you care?” 

“Because I think I’m him.” 

Sam face reads complete disbelief as he glances between the two, realizing that the faces are almost identical. 

“What? No, he didn’t know my mom. It was a one-time thing.” 

“I know, believe me. My name is Dean.” 

“Dean?” she whispered, barely below her breath. “My name is Deanna… after my father.” 

“Listen, do you want to come with us? Grab a bite to eat or something?” 

“Why should I trust you?” 

“I can’t tell you why you should, other than that I’m a good guy and I really want to get to know you. Where is your mom? I could call her, I’m sure she’d remember me.” 

Anna stared at him a moment, completely quiet. “Okay, I’ll go.” 

“What?! He’s lying! Don’t go!” The two remaining witches are freaking out. 

“It’s my choice.” 

But then, Dean and Sam begin to choke. “Stop it!” They don’t stop, despite Anna’s protest. She looks down at Dean, squeezes her eyes shut, and mutters something. The witches fall to the ground and the boys catch their breath in their burning lungs. 

“Did you knock them out?” 

“No,” she says, and she begins walking - fast. “We need to go now.” 

Sam and Dean exchange glances. “Dude, are you sure you want to do this?” Sam asks. 


And that’s how Anna ended up in the back of the car, laughing at the coincidence of names between her and her paternal grandmother - and that’s how they end up talking about how Anna got into trouble, how she practiced witchcraft after her mother passed because she had no where else to go. The coven took her in when she was thirteen. 

She also mentions how her favorite books growing up were the Supernatural books. Sam and Dean are quiet for a moment before the younger brother bursts out laughing. “What?” She whines. “You don’t like them? Because I gotta say, Dean and an Impala? You’re practically living in the stories.” 

“My name is Sam,” he chuckled. 

“No way. No way there is that many coincidences in your life between you two and the books.” 

“For God’s sake, Anna, you were in a coven. You know what’s out there. Put two and two together.” 

She thinks hard and long for a moment. “I… what?” 

“The books are about us,” Dean finally says, not amused. “Hate those things.” 



She sits back, totally quiet. “So - so the angels, and God - that’s…” 


Completely astounded, she starts asking a million questions. 

“You have plenty of time for my dad stories, okay?” 

Finally, they get back to the bunker. Cas is reading and sipping on tea - something that Sam suggested to him so he’d relax - and he hears footsteps outside. His heart skips in the little pattern that only happens when he knows he’s about to be with Dean. 

“No way,” Anna says, totally quiet. “It’s real?” 

“Totally real.” 

The door opens, and Cas stands up, ready to greet his boys. Instead, he sees a mess of blonde locks step through the door. His heart breaks a little bit. He had misunderstood, of course - how stupid of him to think Dean could return his feelings - he was just being friends with him, not the other way around, and, oh god, thank god Cas hadn’t made his move… 


His heart leaped again, jumping in wild circles and dropping to his stomach, and he hated himself for it. He wanted to cut it out of his chest. 

“This is Deanna.” 

The girl turns around, and Dean’s eyes are peering at him. They’re a little different, in a way Cas can’t quite put his finger on it, but they’re that unmistakable green forest that Cas had never found in anyone else’s eyes. And suddenly, maybe the world isn’t so bad, he thinks, as the sinking feeling eases up and lets go of the death grip it had on his throat. 

“Mr. Novak?” Anna asks, carefully coming down the stairs to greet him.

“Jimmy Novak was my vessel. I am Castiel.” 

“Oh,” she said quietly, clearly a little bit disappointed. 

“You knew Jimmy?” Dean asks. He’s genuinely curious, hungry for knowledge. The girl sitting in front of him is… well, half of him. 

“Yeah, yeah. When I was young, my mom couldn’t afford a lot, and my friend Claire invited me to attend church with her. Once we got there, Mr. Novak - uhm, he was Claire’s dad - he, uh, he could tell we didn’t have a lot, and so he helped my mom out for a while. He became a dear friend of ours.” 

“That sounds like something Jimmy would have done,” Cas says quietly. 

“So - so can Jimmy - is he in there?” 

“I’m afraid not.” Anna’s face looked sad. “He’s in heaven, though.” 

“If there was anyone who deserved to go there, it would’ve been him,” she smiled. “And you’re… wait, you’re really Cas? From the books?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“Oh my god,” she said quietly. “I love you.” 

Cas was taken aback, never having heard the words. “Thank you.” 

Most people would take ‘thank you’ as a poor answer to an ‘I love you’, but Anna knew from the five shades of red that covered his face, and from the look in his eyes - he meant it, he was grateful. 

And, that first day, that was about all the interaction they had. However, everyone noticed that Anna was Cas’ little shadow. When they ate dinner, she took the same things as him, and she refused the same things he did. When they went to get pajamas for Anna, and Cas suggested the ugliest pair of pajamas that the boys had ever seen - Anna smiled and told him they were perfect. When Cas watched a show, Anna plopped down in front of him to watch, too. Suddenly, Dean’s late night arm cuddles were accompanied by his daughter’s laughter and equally cheesy jokes. 

In the following days, Anna brought Cas gifts - small pine cones she found that ‘looked interesting’, a plate of pancakes she made for him, small flowers that she tucked into his hair. Cas let her make flower chains and braids in his hair, and he kept them there all day. He put the pine cones on display on a shelf in Dean’s room that belonged to him. They shared the pancakes. 

Cas had never been treated so kindly. Everything he did was complimented - “That’s a great show!” “I like your tie today.” :Your eyes are gorgeous!” “Wow! You have really great taste.” 

And every time, Cas’ cheeks would turn bright red and he would fumble for words. “I - I, just, uhm - thank - thank you, you also have nice… nice preferences.” 

Cas wasn’t used to being admired. He had been told over and over that he was useless, expendable. So when he became a father figure to the small girl, Cas was flustered all of the time. He got especially flustered when Anna would tell him “love you” so casually - “goodnight, Cas, love you” or “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, love you.” He felt showered with attention. 

At first, it made Cas uncomfortable. The amount of affection jarred him. However, pretty soon, Cas became a little more used to his fumbling about and her compliments - so used to it that he started giving again, too. 

When he walked through the kitchen door one morning, Anna told him how heavenly his pancakes tasted. The next time Dean passed by, Cas told him how lovely he smelled. And when Sam sat beside him that night, Cas didn’t hesitate to tell him how smart he was. 

Still, any time anyone gave Cas affection, it made him turn bright red and fall over his own words - but giving became easier and easier for him. He started looking in mirrors differently, and instead of seeing a tired, broken angel, he saw himself as a hero, as a strong provider, as the man with the “beautiful ocean eyes”, as Anna had put it. 

Dean loved to watch the two together. Anna adored Cas, and Cas protected her fiercely. 

One time, when they were at a restaurant, a man walked up to Anna. He was middle aged. “Hey, you like to play?” He gestured at her violin case. 

“Yeah,” she answered. 

“I’ve got a studio at my place. Want to come check it out? I could hook you up with the business.” 

“I’m only sixteen,” Anna answered him. 

“No problem. Let’s go.” 

Before she could answer, Cas wrapped an arm around her. “She doesn’t want to go.” 

“Oh, come on, what are you, her dad?” 


“Then you don’t get to speak for her.” 

“She isn’t going with you.” 

The man picked up Anna’s violin. “Come on, gorgeous. My car is just outside.” 

“Put down her violin. Now.” 

But he didn’t put it down, and instead, he put his hand on Anna’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Come on, baby, don’t listen to this loser.” 

Dean came back from the restroom just in time to see Cas’ fist land squarely on the guy’s nose. He can’t say he wasn’t thankful for what the angel did, but he didn’t tell anybody that. 


“Hey dad?” 

Dean stopped what he was doing, shocked to hear the word ‘dad’ coming from her mouth. “Yeah?” 

“Why don’t you tell Cas that you love him?” 

the old broken down cathedral was thick with silence. it was that heightened over aware kind of silence that made every breath feel a little harder to take. it was dark, save for the artificial light that spilled up one of the statues at the center of the main dais. the rest of the room was cleared out, save for a few broken down pews. everything seemed to be tipped with gold and that gold had a dull shine in the light from the candles burning at the five points of the circle around magnus’s feet.

that candlelight was a warm glow in the midst of grey murky darkness that smelled a bit like mold. the candlelight was the only thing bringing any warmth to this space, casting long dark shadows on the walls, the light licking up magnus’s bare torso as he stood readying himself, magic already flickering at his fingertips.

it was lighting up alec was well, his tight concerned expression, the worry that was hanging around his jaw as he stood there with his arms crossed, bow and holster still on. the orange light crawled up the edges of his wild hair, catching on the inky blackness of his runes. but it didn’t make his distress any more sinister, mostly because magnus knew exactly why he looked like this. he fought the urge to try and placate him again, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes as he snapped his fingers and started to cast in a circle.

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Anyone who says Sherlolly doesn't deserve to be canon because Sherlock treats Molly badly and he'll only push her around if they finally got together must not have seen - or must have completely ignored - Series 3 and the Christmas scene from A Scandal in Belgravia.

Molly has grown so much since this moment:


She called him out on his appalling behaviour and got him to apologise without yelling at or getting nasty with him. This is also the first time he apologised to anyone in the show.


She got him to apologise with just one look. One. Look.


She could tease him and mess around with him. Seriously. He was about to apologise when he saw her smile!

She stood up to him on behalf of the people who love and care about him.


She demanded him to apologise.


She didn’t back down even when he tried to deflect her anger by commenting on her failed engagement.


While it’s not actually Molly, he still retained the memory of her slaps in his mind palace and used it to force himself to focus, which helped him make good choices that kept him alive.


Now tell me: Is Molly Hooper the kind of woman who’d let Sherlock Holmes treat her badly and push her around?

Also, have you all forgotten these?







In Series 3, Sherlock treated Molly a little more kindly than he did in the first two series. He made sure that she would never think she didn’t count to him again. After everything they’ve been through, do you really think he’ll try to push her around and treat her badly in Series 4 or ever again? 

Since my phone’s being an idiot and is not letting me actually answer Anon prompts in my inbox and I’m too lazy to get my laptop, I have to take pics of them.

This one was really vague, but I loved it because it gave me free range, and allowed me to do whatever the fuck I wanted [ just like the sherlolly one in my inbox that I am currently working on and ] I had a lot of fun with this prompt so THANK YOU ANON.

Expect more of this fic. It’s originally 10K+ but I’m leaving it on a cliffhanger so message me if you want more.


Stiles has been a vampire since he was born. His mother was one, and his father was human, a retired Hunter that always protected the good supernatural creatures, and punished the bad ones. He was a high member of Claudia’s coven, and is still widely remembered in the Vampire community.

When stiles was born, he was born with a heartbeat, like all vampires, pure blood and broken blood. He lived his life knowing how to control his powers, and whenever a new one would appear. Since he was the prince of his mothers 900 strong coven, his powers were greater than all of them, even at a young age.

He could control the blood in humans. Bats flocked to him in unruly numbers, and he could talk to them and control them at will. He could also turn into a small flock of them if he wanted, and fly with them. He could control lightning, like his mother, and the dark clouds it came with, but the Lightning he made was a bright purple while his mothers was a light blue. He was strong, stronger than even his mother, and his skin tough but breakable in the sunlight. His teeth, like his grandfathers, were unnaturally sharp even for a vampire. Unlike the others, all of his teeth would become sharp instead of only his canines, and his eyes would bleed to black when he was ‘thirsty’. His veins would turn black when angry, and talons would grow in where his fingers had previously been. When he screeched, a humans heart would burst and they would fall to his feet. He’s always practiced that certain skill away from his dad.

He was a frightening sight when he was angry.

Nobody but his family knew why he was like that. His great great+ grandfather was Vladimir, widely known as Dracula, the first true vampire, an ancestor of Cain even though he was never truly malicious. Stiles never knew why he was like that either, but his mother promised to tell him when his coronation came, when he became king of the coven.

Only that never came.

There was a rumor in the vampire kingdom, stating that when a mate-less vamp lost someone they loved dearly, their heart would stop until they found their mate. If they had lost their mate, they would die of heartbreak or turn into a dark vampire. The ones from horror stories.

When his mother died, bad things happened to him. His heart had stopped, and he turned depressed for the longest time. He always continued to practice his powers, because he needed to be strong for his coven, and because his mother wouldn’t have wanted him to stop.

She never told him who his ancestors were, or why he was the strongest, she just told him that it was because he was still human that he was so special. He had a lot more control.

His panic attacks only made everything worse, but he didn’t want to trouble his dad, who was drinking away his sorrow.

Since the sheriff was never a vamp himself, having an offspring with one made stiles even more special than he already was. The sunlight couldn’t hurt him like it hurt the others, and he could hold silver for a certain amount of time before he started to get hives. The garlic was still a problem, but everyone else saw it as him having an allergic reaction to it more than him burning him from the insides. A wooden steak to the heart would kill anyone, so he never worried about that little detail.

What amazed him, was that whenever he heard stories, or saw movies about it, he realized that they humans had it all wrong. He was never like that, but he knew some of the covens were.

Years went by, and stiles got stronger and stronger. He never told anyone about what he was, because nobody else was like him…

Until Scott got bitten.

Stiles knew from the beginning that he was a werewolf. If it wasn’t the sudden urge he got to kill his best friend, it was definitely the smell.

Werewolves and Vampires were natural born enemies since Cain and Abel.

Abel was the first werewolf, and all are descendants of him, just as all vamps are descended from Cain.

When Cain had murdered his brother in cold blood, that’s when the feud between the two species began.

But Stiles wasn’t Cain, and Scott wasn’t Abel. He wasn’t going to kill Scott.

So instead he helped him. But when they had first met Derek, the night after Scott got bit, when they were looking for him inhaler…

His heart started to beat again.

He had found his mate.

Years have passed since his heart started to beat again, and he had tried to win Derek over, but it had never worked. Stiles was sure it was because he was still a minor, because when his heart fluttered, and pounded near Derek, Derek’s did the same.

He always held back though, because of the mixed signals.

The sudden urges to protect and claim always flashed through along with the desires to bite and kill. It was confusing, but until they mated, and their bond was complete it would cease, and calm their building nerves.

When stiles first told his dad, a week before his 18th birthday, it was definitely shocking to the sheriff, but he stayed with his son through everything.

“Dad…” Stiles had croaked out one night in the middle of dinner. The sheriff had looked up, and noticed the distressed face in his son.

“Stiles..?” John asked wearily, setting his fork down.

“You know when Scott…and how when mom died…m-my heart, it…” Stiles stuttered out uneasily, his fork clattering onto his plate.

“Just breathe…” John said calmly and watched with a worried expression as Stiles stood up to start pacing. John stood up after restless minutes of watching Stiles let out unsatisfied grunts while he paced.

“Okay. Derek.” Stiles said finally, waving his arms frantically.

“Derek Hale?” John asked, confused, while his son nodded.

“Yes!” Stiles yipped and waved his arms to find the words.

“What about him?” John asked seriously.

“When mom…my heart stopped beating…you know that, right?” Stiles murmured, calming down slightly.

“I don’t see where this is going.” John murmured back, crossing his arms.

“When Scott got bitten…the day after…we saw Derek.” Stiles stated, and John nodded, already knowing this bit of information.

“Son…just get to the…” The sheriff sighed, placing his hand on the juncture between stiles’ neck and shoulder. There was a pulse there.“…point?” John sighed, amazed.

“Yeah.” Stiles said, blushing as he looked down at his feet.

“Oh my god…you…it’s Derek?” John asked in bewilderment.

“…yeah…” Stiles whispered, afraid to look up at his father in case there was disappointment in his eyes.

“No, no. Don’t look like that. It’s great and I’m so happy for you…” John cried, pulling his on into a tight hug with a huge smile on his face.

“I feel like there’s a 'but’ coming.” Stiles sighed out, finally looking at his dad. John nodded uneasily, and took a deep breath.

“He’s your natural born enemy, Stiles. If you don’t mate soon, you two might end up killing each-other. I don’t want to lose my only son…” John said softly, looking him in the eyes.

“You won’t. I know it dad. I can feel it…it’ll happen soon.” Stiles said back, just as soft.

“You have to tell him. I know you’ve been hiding your real scent when he’s around so he thinks you’re human. It might just trigger his hormones enough to actually…do it with you.” John said to him seriously, a small smile on his face.

“But…what if I’m not ready? What if…what if he won’t want me because of what I am?” Stiles said with a shaking voice.

“Stiles. You’re mates. God wouldn’t have made you for each-other if you weren’t the perfect match. He’ll love you, I know it.” John said and hugged him again. He waited until stiles was coherent enough to sit down and actually eat.

They finished their dinner with a house full of laughter.

A week had passe since that dinner, and today was Stiles’ birthday. He was going to be having one with the pack tomorrow, but today was reserved for him and his father…

And the coven.

He always celebrated with them, ever since he was born they threw him extravagant parties. There was a royal ball today, it the 'house of mirrors’ as he liked to call it. It was giant ballroom in their underground castle in Northern California. It was far from the pack, and far from his mate, but he would have to push through it, even if the beginning signs of depression were showing up.

Stiles was glad the the whole 'vampires can’t be seen in mirrors’ thing was just a hoax when he was little, because seeing a room full of dancing vampires and looking at a mirror on the wall…if it was empty, even though they were right in from of your eyes.

Stiles shuddered at the though. It always creeped him out when he thought about it. He could see himself, and the others just fine in mirrors, and his dad could see them as well.

The car stopped, and Stiles sighed deeply, breathing in the open, fresh air. He looked at the mountain.

Mount Vant was what they called it. There was a cave in the bottom, near the base of the mountain that lead to their castle. It was the largest of all of the covens, since his coven was famous, and was run by pure blood, not broken.

There were over 900 vampires in there.


He was nervous.

Before he became a part of the new Hale pack, he hadn’t been here as much. Every holiday, special occasion, and royal birthday in his coven was spent here, and he had always came up until his sophomore year in high school.

He already graduated.

And he never celebrated with his coven.

Double fuck.

“Don’t worry son. This isn’t only a birthday party. It’s also your graduation party.” John said with a laugh, seeing the utter fear in his sons eyes. Stiles took a deep breath, the clean air calming him before he squared his shoulders and straightened his back.

He looks like a true King. John thought, a small smile on his face.

“Let’s get this over with.” Stiles murmured at the darkening sky, a smile slowly etching onto his face.

“Go.” John sighed and laughed as Stiles dispersed into a hundred bats and headed for the cave. John smiled as he ran after him.

The first thing that emerged was a right foot, then the left, and next the shins and calves.

The bats circled around and crashed into each-other, morphing and melting beautifully until all that was left standing was Stiles. A single bat circled his head, and he smiled with razor sharp teeth, looking at it with pure black eyes, and scratched it with his talons before it crawled into the base of his neck.

His eyes returned to their normal light brown color, while his teeth shrank until they were human. He kept his talons for a while, before shifting them back, the bones breaking and the skin shedding until they were his regular fingers.

Stiles laughed and sighed. He felt better once he morphed into the bats. The feeling of finally being free had engulfe him.

There was a reason his favorite superhero was Batman.

The bats made him feel weightless and giddy, and he smiled as he waltzed into the main ballroom. There were about 700 people here currently, and many waved as he walked past them and headed to the thrones near the ceiling.

The thrones were made out of gold, and diamonds, etched from the natural rocks that were made together when the mountain was first formed thousands of years before. They were easily worth millions, if not billions.

They Throne of the King was littered melted together Tanzanite, Opals, Red Beryl and Taaffeite. The Throne of the Queen was made out of Blood Diamonds, Red Beryl, Pearls, and Benitoite. The Six Thrones of Heirs were each made out of Blood Opals, Red Beryl, and Alexandrite.

Vladimir was sitting in the Throne of the King, while Rene was sitting on his right, and her husband, Cato was on Vlad’s left. Stiles morphed into the bats and flew up, sitting down on the first of the Six Thrones of Heirs. He was seated at Rene’s right, while his cousin Hannah was on the left. His other two cousins, Christian, and Victor, the twins were also there. One on the left and one on the right.

He didn’t talk to them as much as he talked to the other teens in the coven. They were down to earth in every possible way, but Hannah was too shy, Christian was too forgiving and Victor was waaaaaay too vicious and blood thirsty.

All of their eyes were different. He noticed that when he was little.

White eyes represent loyalty, and they drink any kind of blood. Yellow means kindness, and forgiveness, and they drink animal blood. Red means malicious and vengeful or love, and they drink blood from humans. Black eyes…nobody had told him what they meant. His mother was going to when he turned 18, and she never got the chance.

Stiles was the only one, besides Vlad (from what he’d seen), who’s eyes turned black. Hannah and Christian’s eyes turned yellow and Victors eyes turned red. Vlads eyes were also red, but they were there from love, not hate.

“Is something troubling you?” A thick, English accented voice asked. Stiles looked up, and saw Vlad standing in front of him. Stiles smiled, and bowed at his grandfather.

“Um, no…well, kinda.” Stiles said in question, his leg bouncing restlessly. Vlad smiled at his grandson and nodded, turning away from him to look at the people below.

“Walk with me.” Vlad said, a little humor in his voice.

They were in a long hallway, paintings from past kings and queens littering the walls, covering up every space. At the very end of the hallway was Vlad.

He looked exactly the same. Next to him were portraits. One of his wife, and one of Cato, and Claudia.

“Every drop of your blood, makes you a Vampire, and those drops of blood make you related to me.” Vlad said, looking at the portrait of his wife.

“You are my grandson. My daughter gave birth to you, just as her brother has birthed many heirs.” He said looking at both of the portraits of his children.

“Her brother? I didn’t know she had one.” Stiles said, looking at a younger version of Cato.

“He was human wen she was born, a mere child himself. I had already been turned at that time, by Cain.” Vlad said, turning around and leading stiles to another portrait. It was of an old man, ugly and covered in long black drapes and scars.

“When I was younger, barely turned, it was hard for me to live, for my wife, my mate had died in a war that I tried so desperately to prevent.” He said, looking at a ladscape styled painting of a terrible, bloody war. It was near the ceiling, and it was at least 8 feet long.

“My heart had stopped beating when my wife died, just like yours did when my daughter Claudia died.” He said, turning to face the opposite wall.

“It was tough for me, but my heart started to beat again when I started to live and fight so my children would be safe. They needed me, just like how my kingdom needed a King.” He said, showing him another painting that depicted the aftermath of the war.

“My son took the throne at 12, and had to raise his sister all by himself. His mother had died, I w was believed to be dead until I had been resurrected.” He mumbled proudly, smiling up at the painting.

“When I awoke again, my son, was 27, and he had three children, Hannah, Christian, and Victor. His wife, Rene, one of the Vampires that I had turned, birthed them.” He said, the portrait of their whole family hanging on the wall under a bright light.

“I had asked if he wanted to live on with them, but Ingeras wanted to stay human until he felt as if he’d lived as much as he could. I turned him when he was 32. He is now widely known as Cato, to hide his true identity as my son.” Vlad stated with no venom in his voice ant turned to the next painting. It was the one of him, his dad and his mother.

“My daughter had never found love until about twenty years ago. Her mate…he’s such a strong man with a brave heart. His soul shines, like the day he was born. When they had you, I was overjoyed, knowing that I had finally found an heir, even if they would grow with a mortal life.” He said and chuckled at Stiles’ shocked smile and teary face.

“Their hearts are beating as strong as the earth itself. It’s a love that last through the ages.” Vlad sighed out, walking out of the hallway and onto the side of the mountain.

They were outside now, and the sun was still up. Stiles was fine, standing on the sun. His skin was pale, and bright against the contrasting colors of the sky. His heart started to beat faster as he moved slowly, towards the edge of the cliff.

He rolled his shoulders as he sighed, looking out to the sky.

“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles whispered, so low human ears couldn’t hear it.

“Because, I can hear your heart beating again, and you needed to know your history before you make any rash decisions concerning your mate, and before you become King.” Vlad answered simply, shrugging as he walked up beside his grandson.

“Why me?” Stiles whispered, just as low.

“There’s something special about you. Your dark eyes have been passed on from Cain, to me, to Claudia, to you. Cato has my human blood, as does his children. You have the blood of the first vampire. The one made while God created the Earth. That darkness makes you powerful, and the fact that it’s fueled by love makes it that much greater.” He answered again, watching to see Stiles’ reaction. He nodded silently, but didn’t say anything.

“You also have the blood of kings from ancient kingdoms in you, from me and from your father. You were born, made, and created from Kings, and of all those things, you are one to rule.”

“Do you think I can rule all these people?” Stiles asked, fear rolling off of him.

“I have my complete, and utter faith in the fact that you can, and will, be one of the greats.” Vlad said happily, pulling Stiles in for a hug. A hug which Stiles greedily returned.

“Thank you…” Stiles mumbled into his grandfathers chest.

“You’re welcome. Now, tell me about this mate of yours!” Vlad cheered, changing the subject and laughed as Stiles flushed a bright red.

“It’s…complicated.” He finally croaked out after a long moment of silence.

“All love is, son.” Vlad said, squeezing Stiles shoulder as they headed back inside the Castle.

“He…he’s an Alpha Werewolf.” Stiles mumbled and cringed, waiting for his grandfathers scolding reaction, but it never came. Vlad hummed thoughtfully, sparing a glance at the young heir.

“I’m guessing he’s the Alpha of the Beacon Hills pack, correct?” Vlad assumed on a whim, and Stiles nodded.

“Yeah. I just…I don’t know what to do half of the time. I don’t even know how to tell him…” Stiles said frustrated, running his hand through his grown out hair.

“Baby steps, Stiles. Baby steps. Now, let’s be done with all of the seriousness and party. It is your birthday after all.” Vlad said, and roared as he stepped out into the balcony where the thrones were, shoving Stiles into the spotlight.

When they had got home, Stiles was beautifully drunk off of the blood wine that his grandfather, Vladimir had given him. (It was basically aged blood from the 1700’s. It was orgasmic according to the young heir). He had only had one gulp of the wine before he started to buzz, and by the time he was done with one cup, he felt like he was floating.

Stiles wheezed out a laugh as he tumbled to the living room floor because he was walking while simultaneously trying to pull off his shoes.

18 years of age was how old you had to be to drink in the Vampire community, and stiles was living every bit of it.

John came in next, laughing at his son while he closed the door. They had a lot of fun tonight, (a lot of fun, believe me), but Stiles had to wake up early tomorrow to be at the Hale house for his birthday celebration with them.

John smirked when he remembered the absolute best part of being drunk, and that Stiles was about to experience it.

The hangover.

John knew he should probably give him some black coffee and a bottle of water before Stiles started to climb up the stairs, but being the great father that he was, he decided that Stiles needed to experience this part in his life.

But mostly because John was a little shit. Mostly.

The next day, when Stiles woke up, his head was pounding and he was pretty sure the world was upside-down.

“Daaad.” Stiles croaked out with a sore throat. What in the world happened last night?

“What is it Stiles?” John yelled from downstairs. Stiles honed in his senses to the kitchen area, and smelled dark coffee, water, eggs, bacon and potato.

Breakfast sounded so good right now.

Stiles sat up from where he was laying down on the hard floor and stretched, crossing his legs when he was finished.

He blinked blearily, the world still hazy and a slight buzz still in his head. He craned his neck and looked up, watching with confused eyes when he saw his bed.

“Dad! Why is my bed on the ceiling?!” Stiles yelled with a confused voice. He shifted into his beta form from where he was sitting down.

His nose flattened, the tip of his nose going upward, and his nostrils stretched, just as his ears became longer, and pointed from where that sat on the sides of his head. His exposed feet became longer and more lethal, shifting to where they looked more like bat feet than anything, since his toes morphed together and three long talons protruded from his feet. His hands stayed the same, but his nails became sharper, and there were two gigantic black wings protruding from his back.

He looked cute.

Stiles was too busy looking at his bed, but he still heard the door open and his father step inside.

John breathed out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked up to his son.

My bed is on the ceiling, my ass.

“Stiles.” John said exasperated, and leaned against the doorway.

“Yeah.” Stiles mumbled distractedly, still looking 'up’ at his bed.

“Your bed isn’t on the ceiling, son…you are.” John said seriously. Stiles looked confused for a second before his eyes widened and he looked at his dad.

“Oh…” Stiles said slowly, still a little confused, but he nodded none the less.

“Yeah, oh. Now get down here and eat your breakfast.”

When stiles got downstairs, his eyebrows rose in shock.

His cousin, Victor, was here.

“Um…hey, Victor. What are you doing here?” Stiles asked with a confused expression on his face. Victor raised a single brow, and smirked. It sent shivers down Stiles’ spine. He was the more vicious one of the twins, and he was in his house.

“What? Can’t I visit my dear cousin, that I’ve missed so much?” Victor drawled out, humor in his voice. Stiles rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at his cousins antics.

“You never visit unless it business or you want to hunt game and you need me to distract my pack-mates.” Stiles mumbled, quiet enough for only his cousin to hear. Stiles’ eyes flashed red, and he looked around for the heartbeats of the pack. They were about ten minutes away.

“Well, right now, technically, it’s both.” Victor said seriously, looking down at his hands. Stiles had never seen him like this. He was either always angry or always telling jokes, he ha never been this serious unless they were making battle plans.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Stiles asked in concern, watching as Victors face formed a smile. This one wasn’t vicious, it was small and happy.

“I…I found my mate.” Victor whispered, his smile growing as he looked up at his beaming cousin.

“I was looking…you know I drink human blood, but you know that I have people who donate it, I don’t go out and kill them, right?” He said seriously, looking a t stiles. Stiles nodded and motioned him to continue.

“Well, one of my donors, has recently died, so I traveled out here since I knew it would be easier hiding my tracks if another vampire was in town…I was almost to your house when I smelled the scent of my mate…” He rushed out, ecstatic.

“Do you know who it is?” Stiles asked with a joyful voice. He was happy for Victor, but he frowned when he only shook his head.

“I followed it to The Den…it’s one of the werewolves in your pack.” Victor said which had Stiles laughing. Whenever they were talking about the Hale House, they called it The Den, but they haven’t called it that in months.

“Well…Scott, Ethan, Boyd, and Erica already have mates…the only other ones that don’t are Aiden and Isaac.” Stiles said, thinking out loud. He didn’t think it was Aiden, so it had to be Isaac, but he still had to make sure.

“It was soft, and comforting…it smelled like sweet misery and cotton, and…an undieing amount of love.” Victor whispered, so only him and Stiles could hear since there was someone at the door.

Lydia walked in with a gold rimmed Isaac trailing behind her.

Isaac growled and pounced on Victor, knocking Stiles to the floor in the process.

Isaac inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose against Victor’s rapidly beating pulse point. His scent was strong, and rich, making Isaac’s eyes burn and him mind cloud with lust.

The two on the floor could faintly hear yelling behind them, but they tuned it out, and stared at each-other instead.

Victors eyes burned red and he, much like stiles did just hours before, shifted into his beta form. He screeched softly while Isaac growled and licked his pulse.

Isaac moaned, finally tasting the flesh of his mate, and keened when Victor bit into his pulse point, and sucked.

Victor shifted back, his mind supplying the information that there were too many werewolves around, and followed his natural instincts. He could take them all down with a swipe of his wings, but he was too far gone to care.

Then, he was just cold.

Isaac was crouched on top of him, literally snarling at whoever was trying to push him away from Victor.

Stiles reached down, trying to help Victor to his feet when another snarl from Isaac distracted him.

Boyd and Derek were the ones holing down the young werewolf, until he was shaking and whimpering in their arms.

Victor was trying to claw his was through Stiles to try and reach his mate, but it didn’t work because everyone else was holding him back as well.

“Oh God, please! Let me go, Derek…I need him…I need him…” Isaac whispered, literally crying, his wolf trying to break free.

Victor managed to get free, but he cried out in pain when he stepped into the sun, his flesh peeling off of his bones. Lydia pushed him out of the way, seeing the way he was reacting to the beams of light, and watched, horrified as his flesh started to heal completely back.

“Vampire…” Allison whispered, grabbing a silver tipped arrow and lodging it in her bow. She pulled back and let go in less than a second, and in a flash of gold and a solid thump, it hit.

But it didn’t hit Victor.

Isaac was crouched in front of Victor, and the arrow was lodged in his abdomen. He was growling at Allison from where he was on the floor, his hands on Victor protectively.

“Mate.” Isaac growled, his yellow rimmed eyes so bright, they were practically white.

“Umm…” She mumbled, suddenly very, very scared of the almost feral Isaac.

“This is bad…” Erica mumbled, looking between Isaac and Allison.

“Of course it’s bad! Isaac’s been in heat for a week, and Allison tried to shoot his mate!” Jackson hissed.

“Who is also my cousin!” Stiles yelled, not angrily, but jut to remind everyone.

“I didn’t know!” Allison yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

“It doesn’t matter! Right now we have to get the arrow out of Isaac and let them finish the mating process.” Derek huffed, starting to be affected by all of the hormones.

“Okay, so…that happened.” Stiles said, watching with a dazed expression as Isaac got up and pushed Victor out of the door and headed deep into the woods.

“Who was that guy again?” Scott asked, pointing out at the woods.

“That was my cousin, Victor.” Stiles sighed, and shook his head, turning to look at the rest of the pack.

“Does he know about werewolves?” Derek asked seriously, and glared at Stiles when he smirked.

“Well, if he didn’t, he certainly does now.” Stiles mumbled, a laugh escaping his throat when he saw Derek glaring.

“Did you know that your cousin was a vampire?” Derek asked, looking at stiles, a growl ripping through his mouth before he could control it.

Stiles glared at him when he heard the growl, but rolled his eyes and nodded at the Alpha.

“Yes. Me and my Dad both knew. He was only here because he smelled his mate nearby, but he didn’t want to cross into your territory without starting a bloodbath.” Stiles said calmly, watching as Derek nodded.

“So…are we going to just stand here, or are we going to celebrate?!” Stiles cheered, and smiled as the pack surrounded him.

They were almost done with dinner when Isaac and Victor tumbled through the door, smelling like deep soil and sex. The house went silent, and Isaac burned a deep shade of red he he saw the pack staring at them.

Isaac had given Victor his pants when they were finished, and Isaac was wearing his shirt and boxers, while everything else was bare.

“I’m pretty sure I can still smell the sex on you from all the way over here, and I’m not even a werewolf.” Stiles commented, being the first one to speak. Isaac turned an even deeper shade before he grabbed Victors hand and basically dragged him up the stairs.

Stiles smirked as he watched them go up, and laughed when Victor made a face and flipped him off, his eyes flashing dangerously as he disappeared into the bathroom.

The pack laughed awkwardly once the new couple went into the bathroom. They sat, and continued to eat quietly as they waited for Victor and Isaac to finish.

Ten minutes passed by, Isaac had walked out of the bathroom and got clothes from the spare bedroom.

They walked downstairs a few minutes later, and ate the rest of the food in silence as voices boomed all around them, asking various questions.

Victor roared at them, shutting them all up. He turned to look at Stiles, and raised a single brow at his future king.

Really, this is your pack? His eyes said. Stiles’ eyebrows only shot up in response.

It’s your now too Mrs. Lahey. Stiles snickered, staring at his cousin.

Shut up.

“I need to ask you something.” Victor said once everybody was gone. He could still feel Derek in the general vicinity, and he knew with his werewolf hearing, that he would be listening to the current conversations, so he had to pick his words wisely.

“Ask away.” Stiles said distractedly since he was washing the dishes.

“When are you and Derek going to fuck, because the tension between you two is killing me.” Victor asked and laughed as Stiles jumped and flailed, the plate that was in his hand shattering on the floor.

“Victor…no.” Stiles said boldly at his cousin, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“Hey, it’s just a question. No harm done.” Victor wheezed out, laughing harder when Stiles punched him in the arm.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Shit.” Stiles whispered, looking outside his window. There were vampires here, and he knew for a fact that they weren’t from his coven.

Victor was still staying at his house, Scott, Erica, Isaac and Aiden were still here, helping him clean up from the small party they had before his dad got home. He couldn’t go out there and negotiate, unless he wanted the pack to find out, and he didn’t want that.

“Victor. Come here.” Stiles hissed at his cousin, and watched as his brows furrowed.

“What is it, prince?” Victor asked in polish. It was the language that Stiles grew up with because of his grandma and grandpa on his dad’s side. It was Stiles’ first language.

“There are Vampires here from an unknown coven. I can’t go out to negotiate, or wait for my dad to come home.” Stiles responded in his native tongue. He heard Erica stop washing the dishes, and when he turned around, they were all staring at them with wide eyed confusion.

“Since when could Stiles speak polish?” The two cousins heard Erica whisper in confusion to the rest of the pack who were there.

“What do you want me to do?” Victor asked, ignoring the wondering eyes and ears.

“Lead them away. Get them to a secure location, away from the pack. Tell them to meet me where the moon touches the earth.” Stiles said and crossed his arms. He couldn’t let them get any closer either, or else the pack would be in danger.

“Yes, my prince.” Victor said and bowed slightly, turning to leave. He kissed Isaac on the cheek, and whispered a quick goodbye.

He barely opened the front door, before a though occurred to Victor. He looked back at Stiles from over his shoulder and asked a simple question.

“What if they attack?” Victor asked seriously, back in English. The pack immediately went on guard, Isaac shifting out of worry for his mate while the others watched and waited for orders.

Stiles kept his arms crossed from where he stood at the window. He didn’t bother to look at Victor as he responded with a cold glare.

“Kill them.” Stiles said seriously and turned back to finish sweeping, ignoring the shocked stares from his pack and the slamming door.

An hour later, when Victor came home bloody and burned from the small amount of sun, they didn’t say anything.


Stiles knew the importance of the Nemeton – of course he did; he was born and raised in Beacon Hills. It was like the pumpkin in Halloweentown; if the tree died, so did the town’s magic. If the tree got corrupted so did the town’s magic.( And the town really liked its magic. Sure, it looked like a normal, tiny California town in case of humans but Stiles regularly got shots of Charm thrown into his lattes on his way to pick up some pickled spider eyes at the drugstore.)

But the Nemeton was in the preserve and Stiles didn’t go into the preserve; not since Derek died.

But every year the town has to perform a ritual to keep the magic clean, and Stiles has to attend, even if he’d rather have all four wisdom teeth pulled without anesthetic. 

So he gets drunk, really drunk, so drunk that he’s not sure if he’s hallucinating the sudden appearance of his dead boyfriend.

(He’s not.)

Mary’s Original Novel With A Sterek Twist - Part 1

Part 2

The Color of Boom - gypsiangel - Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 8/?
Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski
Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein, Tina Goldstein, Jacob Kowalski, Seraphina Picquery, Credence Barebone, Mary Lou Barebone, full cast in one way or another, Theseus Scamander, Gellert Grindelwald, Percival Graves | Gellert Grindelwald
Additional Tags: Genderbent Newt Scamander, Female Newt, Hurt Original Percival Graves, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, This is my first try at genderbending, seemed like a good idea at the time, Romance, Male alter-ego, Period Typical Sexism, BAMF Original Percival Graves, Protective Theseus Scamander, I’ll add more as I figure it out, Eurpoean Wizarding society isn’t as forward thinking as MACUSA, BAMF Newt Scamander

This wasn’t entirely the way she’d wanted to touch base with her brother’s friend, Percy, but in some epic twist of irony, it made total sense. He already thought she was a complete heathen with insane ideas on what would be appropriate for a woman of the times…
In other words, gender-bent version of Fantastic Beasts where Artemis Scamander figures out the game and runs everyone on a merry chase.

This fic is absolutely superb! The way the author uses fem!Newt makes me really take another look at the canon; the way the background is told as well as the subtleties therein is fantastic! It’s like re-reading/watching the canon!fbawtft for the first time. It’s just really thorough and refreshing! Please take a look if you haven’t already; I don’t usually enjoy Genderbents, but the way the author writes it is like its a work of art!