Dwayne X Oc - Blog Posts

Darkness Within the Light

Chapter 3 of a Dwayne Stephens x Latina!Pregnant!Witch!OC fanfic

Warnings: Threats of violence, allusions to dangerous situations, language, sexual innuendos, Grandpa Emerson (you all know he counts). This entire story is deemed unsuitable for minors, if you are one, you are responsible for your own media intake, you have been warned.

Summary: As Jessamine settles into her new job and begins adjusting to her new way of life, we meet her new landlord, Grandpa Emerson. Cranky, superstitious, and all too aware of her status, Jessamine tries to find even footing with this eccentric old man who’s anxiously waiting for the appearance of his estranged family.

(y’all, i fucking forgot to add the photo the first time i uploaded, it adds to the ambiance and it’s so fucking important and i forgot it💀)

With two clicks and a startlingly accurate aim, Jessamine watched in horror as the shotgun leveled at her head. Her breathing shallowed drastically as she tried to keep calm and stay level-headed. Her abilities and magik could be triggered by her emotional state, and this was one of the worst times and situations to let out a wave of magikal energy.

“The hell you two devil-worshippers doin’ on my property? And speak quick cuz I’m too old to pretend to be interested,” growled the white-haired man as he stared down the scope of his weapon, his finger tightening around the trigger menacingly. He was old enough to look just days away from dying, withered snowy locks flowing stiffly in the light breeze. He was dressed haphazardly, as if he fell into a closet and decided to stay in whatever had landed on him. An atrociously patterned orange and blue Hawaiian shirt lay over a stained wife beater, which was probably once white. He wore thick cotton cutoff shorts that exposed a farmers tan, leading to his mismatched socks and shoes. One foot had an ankle length striped sock and a slipper with a huge hole in the toe. The other sock was high on his calf and had green polka dots and laid in an untied leather work boot.

Flinching at the sawed-off that was just a few feet away from her, she leaned to whisper harshly into Leighton’s ear. “When you said you’d take me to my new ‘living arrangements’, I didn’t think that translated into my untimely death! I though you knew this guy.”

“I know of him, everyone does. He’s killed his fair share of vampires before finally settling here about forty odd years ago. He’s been here as long as I have.”

Icy blue eyes glared at the two Wiccan, distrustful and paranoid. “Now, don’t you two start consorting or whatever it is that y’all’s kind tend to do,” he warned wearily. Standing just a few feet away from them from the top of his porch steps, Jessamine had never felt so threatened in her life. Usually, in life or death scenarios, she was more calm. But now, it wasn’t just her life at stake. Before this baby, she felt expendable and unimportant. All of that had changed and she felt the true burden of her mortality for the first time.

Leighton tried not to take his eyes off of the older man, but it was hard to when he knew his newest charge was in such an awful position. Santa Carla was, for many valid reasons, practically deserted by magikal folk. He preferred it that way. Wiccan had stopped going West long ago, so he was basically alone. While it didn’t do much for his power, he knew he was independent and in full control here without having to account for or answer to anyone. But Jessamine and her baby changed all of that. And he knew that the Great Mother had an intended purpose for the young woman and her baby.

“Mr. Emerson, I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding here. We pose no threat to you or your home, and we didn’t come here with any bad intentions. I’m the librarian in town and this young woman is my new employee. She has fled from a very dangerous situation and she needs a home. Given your background and need for a tenant, I thought it would do to come here,” he assured, stepping in front of Jessamine and holding his arm across her torso protectively.

“I don’t think there’s been any misunderstanding, Mr. Librarian. Lemme make myself clear, I got my own to protect. I ain’t gonna let some fugitive you’re harboring put my family into danger by bringing about a damn apocalypse within my home. I don’t care if you think she’s innocent or too damn pretty to get rid of,” Emerson insisted, not even twitching out of his defensive position.

Jessamine tried not to bristle at his offensive words, and focused at the gun he still had leveled on her. She could easily knock it away from him with a thought, but she knew it wouldn’t help the situation. If anything, it would just make everything worse. And the slight chance that the gun would go off and hit her anyway kept her from making any drastic decisions. For her child’s sake she had to be careful.

Leighton continued arguing with the old man, if not to allow her to stay, than to convince him to let them live. “No one understands your motivations better than she does. She has her own family to protect, growing within her. You know our laws, Emerson, you know that they won’t come for her. But you also know that Wiccans aren’t the only threat in this area. Please, allow her sanctuary.”

Emerson’s glare softened slightly and much to the pair’s relief, his finger relaxed from the trigger marginally. His gaze fell from Leighton’s to Jessamine’s belly, where she had rested a hand above her womb. Jessamine was a bit on the heavier side and she knew that the fat of her stomach might obscure how far along she truly was. However, for just two months (physically at least), she knew it wasn’t obvious yet. Still, he kept the gun aimed at them and they knew better than to try to approach him further.

“And so what? Why should I just take your word for it? For all I know, y’all could be using some kinda mind trick on me to brainwash me into obeying you. I also know that your society doesn’t gatekeep the use of magik. There are plenty of violent outliers,” Emerson dismissed, shaking his head slightly so as not to disable his aim.

Frustrated and feeling tears well up in her eyes, Jessamine moved around Leighton and approached the elderly man, marching forward until the shotgun barrel was pressing into her chest. She met his glare with a determined gaze of her own, though hers was decidedly less severe given the salty water that had accumulated on her lashes in desperation and stress

“Please,” she begged, ignoring the chilled metal that practically burned through the material of her shirt. “I know what you’re afraid of because I am, too. We face the same dangers, whether you acknowledge it or not. I will do anything to protect my baby and give them a safe and happy life. This is the safest place to do that. I get that dark practitioners are threats, but I do not participate in that sort of evil. I swear to you that no harm will come to you or your family as a result of my presence. I will use all of the magik at my disposal to make this a fortress, if that would make you more comfortable. Please, this is my last hope. I am utterly alone in this world and I have nothing to lose or cherish more than my baby. So please! Please!”

Jessamine felt pathetic and was on the verge of sobbing in front of this man. Tears streamed down her round face, but she tried to keep her facial features as smooth and neutral as possible. Her hands covered her stomach as much as they could, a final and useless layer of protection.

Emerson’s glare deepened a fraction before he tossed his head back and laughed. Yanking the gun back, he swung it so it was positioned over his shoulders. Shifting his position, he eyed the two considerably, with a huge grin and a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, why didn’t you just start with that? Shoot! Making my house a fortress? Darlin’, lemme help you with them bags.”

Both Leighton and Jessamine gaped after him as he put the shot gun away carefully and lifted two bags to carry inside. Leighton approached Jessamine from behind, laying a heavy hand on her shoulder. Craning her neck to look at him, she almost giggled at his expression. Mouth agape and his head shaking in disbelief, his mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find his voice.

“That was insane,” he breathed finally. This triggered an immediate response of Jessamine swallowing large mouthfuls of air as she was hit with the reality of the encounter. Everything hit her in that moment. Nathaniel’s death. Her isolation and banishment from her community. The year-long coma she had been forced into. The death threats and conspiracies that followed. Being abandoned by the Council and forced to flee. The weeks of driving. Jessamine was, for lack of better or truer terms, fucking exhausted. She was so fucking exhausted.

Not acknowledging Leighton’s words, she picked up a few bags herself and trailed after the old man.

The inside of the house was huge and largely decorated in wooden Western furnishings. Antlers and stuffed animals, mostly rodents, resided on the majority of the flat surfaces. They were all posed to face the entryway, as if in greeting. There was almost no technology that she could see besides a wall covered floor-to-ceiling with various radio and stereo models being flanked by columns upon columns of disks and records. The entryway was set into a living room, with a winding staircase leading to the second floor. A set of french doors revealed a workplace for Emerson’s taxidermy, the room glowed red from the stained lightbulbs. Another set of french doors -these were glass instead of wood- revealed a dining room that connected to a kitchen, which led to a sunroom and den.

Emerson walked ahead of Jessamine through the kitchen and into the den. Another smaller staircase was there and he began to ascend with a couple of her bags.

“We converted the attic into a living space when my youngest daughter wanted some ‘independence’ after high school before she moved out. It has a small kitchen and a full bathroom. No bedroom, that’s in the living room. I guess it’s what you young folk might call a studio apartment. Pretty spacious since it takes up the top floor of the house,” Emerson explained, opening a door at the top of the stair case and allowing Jessamine to walk ahead of him. Leighton’s heavy steps followed them sluggishly as he had handled more bags than the other two.

Indeed, the apartment was very spacious. Various skylights on the slanted ceiling allowed sun to light the entire place up for their viewing. Practically everything was covered in dust, including a few stacks of boxes that stood in the corner next to the door. Dust swirled in the air, the light fracturing off of it to make rainbows. A small television stood to the far left of the attic with a couple of couches and chairs surrounding it. Next to the boxes was an old desk and bookshelf, which stood empty. To the left of the television, on the far right wall, was a small lift. The lift was about a foot from the floor and had a large bed on top of it. Across from the bed was the kitchen, complete with a refrigerator, stove, sink, and a small dining area. Between the bed and kitchen was a small hallway with only two doors, one was a simple wooden door and the other was s sliding glass mirror; a bathroom and walk-in closet.

“It’s perfect! Thank you so much, Mr. Emerson,” said Jessamine jubilantly, twirling slowly in the center of the space to take it all in at once.

Smiling kindly at her and setting her bags down, Emerson responds, “I already know everyone calls me ‘Grandpa’. You might as well, too.”

Leighton walked in behind Grandpa and set Jessamine’s bags down gratefully, beyond relieved to not be carrying them further. He rubbed his sore shoulders and surveyed the apartment as well. “It’ll do nicely. That desk is great for when you have to bring work home,” he approved.

Grandpa lifted an eyebrow at the young man and crossed his arms. “Young man, I know you ain’t planning on working this woman in her condition,” he reprimanded.

Jessamine laughed, genuinely for the first time in what had felt like lifetimes. “No, don’t worry about that, Grandpa. I’m a historian. Bringing work home is just reading old tomes and translating runes, nothing strenuous.”

Leighton nodded vigorously, intimidated by the old man’s protectiveness. “I would never compromise her health for a few old books, Grandpa, on my word.”

Grandpa nodded along, content with that answer. “Well, all right. I’ll let you get settled. When you’re ready, come downstairs for some food and I’ll help you stock up that old kitchen and clean up.”

“Thank you again, Grandpa, you have no idea how much this means to me,” Jessamine repeated, turning to face the man as he began descending the stairway.

“I think I do, girl. My oldest daughter, Lucy? You remind me of her.” His voice was thick and emotional as he paused on the landing step.

“Is that why you let me stay?” She knew it to be true as soon as she asked, her senses lighting up in response.

“She and her boys are coming to live with me. They don’t know nothing about any of this. Of what goes on in this town. I don’t know how to explain it, how to prepare them. She wanted a better life for her sons. You wanted a better life for your little one. It wasn’t hard to make the connection,” he grunted.

Jessamine could tell he had missed his daughter, which led her to assume that he hadn’t seen Lucy in quite some time. The same could most likely be said for her sons. Jessamine empathized heavily with his situation and fully understood Grandpa’s underlying motive for allowing her there; she had promised to make the entire structure a fortress. He wouldn’t have to prepare them if Jessamine was already there to keep them safe. She don’t blame him, couldn’t actually, she would’ve done so no matter where she ended up living.

As Grandpa’s steps down the stairs faded, Jessamine reflected on what she had learned of this man as she began unpacking her belongings and cleaning up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Emersons - Lucy, Michael and Sam - arrived three days later, and were in for two shocks when Grandpa faked a heart attack and then when they met Jessamine for the first time.

Lucy was a very sweet and compassionate woman who had a tendency to be a bit too lenient on her sons. She had just gotten out of a divorce and had decided to keep it as mess-free as possible. Like her, Lucy was looking for a new start for her family. Out of the three, she was definitely the most optimistic and excited about living in Santa Carla. She and Jessamine quickly bonded when Lucy found out she was pregnant. It was nice having another woman around and it made Jessamine realize that she hadn’t had a single conversation with another woman since entering Santa Carla.

Neither of her sons shared the sentiment.

Michael, the oldest, was nineteen and mostly ambivalent about the move. Jessamine could tell that he tried to remain open to it for his mother’s sake, but he wasn’t all that happy about it. A young adult who was entering his senior year in high school late, due to childhood illness, he was simply trying his best to adjust. He got along well with Jessamine, though her being there had confused him.

As to not make them suspicious, Jessamine and Grandpa had devised a story. Jessamine was a pregnant college student who Grandpa was hosting. Since he regularly had health scares and often forgot to feed himself actual meals, Jessamine earned her keep by checking up on Grandpa every so often and making his meals for him. Though not all that pleased with essentially being a live-in caretaker, it would suit her needs so that she could live and practice her magik in peace.

Grandpa wasn’t at all approving of her practice in the slightest. For one, he thought it was dangerous, both for her health and because he still wasn’t certain what sort of magik Jessamine practiced in. Most of all, he didn’t want his family to find out about her true nature or her real job as a magik historian. Still, they came to an agreement that Jessamine would keep her room locked at all times, whether she was in it or not, and that she would put up charms to keep anyone from seeing or finding out about the various ingredients, potions, spells, and books that would give insight to her being a Wiccan. She promised to go above and beyond to keep her secret from Grandpa’s daughter and her sons.

And while this wasn’t an issue for Lucy or Michael, Jessamine faced a bit of resistance from Lucy’s youngest son, fifteen-year-old Sam. Inquisitive and curious, Sam spent nearly an hour interrogating Jessamine as she tried to make a ‘Welcome Home’ dinner for the trio.

“I think Grandpa should’ve told us that he already had someone living here, doesn’t that make more sense?”

“I have no idea why he wouldn’t have, Sam, I don’t make a habit of reading his letters or helping him write them.”

“Nope, definitely weird. You’re way too hot to be just living here. I don’t believe it for a second.”

“As flattering as I think that was, I’m a bit offended you think I’m lying. Would anyone other than a broke college student go for this type of arrangement?”

“True, but you don’t seem like any old broke college student. Does this have something to do with you being knocked up? I haven’t heard anything about a father.”

Michael just so happened to walk in at Sam’s last question and promptly slapped him upside the head and shoved him aside so that he could walk between them with some boxes for the sunroom.

“You can’t go around saying shit like that, jackass. Plus, Mom told us not to bring it up,” he hissed, chastising Sam. “Apologize, now, idiot.”

Sam had the good sense to look ashamed of himself, realizing he had taken it too far. It seems like this was a reoccurring sequence of his. You felt for the kid if you were being honest, and you were impressed by his boldness.

“I’m real sorry, Jessamine, I shouldn’t have asked all that,” he apologized, looking down at his shoes bashfully.

You laughed lightly and he looked up at you hopefully. Smiling at him, you offer both boys a peace offering. “It’s fine, really. I mean, I get it. Y’all travelled all this way to be living with a weird old man and his 20-year-old friend who’s pregnant. I’d be feeling off about it, too. How about after dinner, we go check out the boardwalk? I haven’t been and your mom is headed that way to look for a job.”

Both boys visibly lit up at the opportunity to do something fun. After a long drive and hours of unpacking, with more to do the next day, boredom was leeching into their systems like a virus. Especially since Grandpa refused to own a television set. Sure, there was one in Jessamine’s room, but she couldn’t lug it down herself for them and they weren’t allowed in her room. For their sakes, she chose not to tell them about it at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dwayne stood away from his brothers as the three of them flocked around a pretty girl who was trying to get an ice cream. They all took turns flirting with her, trying to see which one of them appealed to her the most. Usually, Dwayne would happily participate in these types of games, but he’d felt off lately, and started spending most of his time out with Star and Laddie.

He wasn’t complaining, he adored them both with his whole heart, just as he did his brothers and father. It was just that the idea of having sex or being around women, which he has never had trouble with before, was completely unappealing. And he knew it wasn’t just inside his head because Paul and Marko had begun teasing him about it for months already. Which is why he preferred Star’s company.

It also didn’t hurt that he could acknowledge how beautiful she was without cringing. He had always thought so, back when they had first found her. He flirted with her just as his brothers had and, in the rare moment of assertiveness, he had been the one to offer her Max’s blood to turn her. Dwayne would never consider actually being with her, romantically or sexually. He could just tell that he wasn’t hers to have. And he didn’t want to be. It didn’t feel right. But he could be with her in these moments, silently and peacefully watching over Laddie and making sure his brothers don’t cause too much trouble.

The girl that David, Paul and Marko had been bothering had taken an interest in Marko, and Dwayne could practically feel his elation at having won the game and being able to have his fun with her. As he quirkily extended an elbow for the girl to take so that he could walk her somewhere more private and romantic, Dwayne had rolled his eyes humorously.

And that’s when he saw her.

A girl, couldn’t be over 5’2, walking in between two teenage boys, all three of them looking around the board walk in wonder.

She was curvy, and plump in all the areas that Dwayne liked best. She wore a white lacy top, which was low cut and exposed her chubby tummy. Dwayne’s eyes caught on her large breasts, which he tried to feel bad about before he decided to soak in as much of her as he could. Her long skirt was also white but has pink and green ruffles, similar to one of Star’s skirts. She was decorated in dull gold - belts, hair rings, necklaces and bracelets. Her brown fringe was medium length and was pulled back and out of her face by hair ornaments. Her features were hispanic and her skin was a pleasant shade of caramel. It had been centuries since Dwayne had craved anything but blood and all of the sudden, the sight of a single woman had given him a sweet tooth that rivaled Augustus Gloop.

Her scent wafted to him and he felt like he could survive off of it alone. Cinnamon rolls and peaches. Fuck.

David and Paul were approaching where he and Star were, climbing onto their bikes. Star clambered up behind David and held onto him. Usually Laddie would ride with Dwayne, but Dwayne lifted him up and saddled the boy with Paul. Ignoring them all as they called out it him over his strange behavior and lack of explanation, he strode off away from them.

Following the warm and sweet scent of cinnamon rolls and peaches.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AAHSHFHFH CHAPTER THREE FINALLY

I wanted to do another chapter before leaving on vacation and i was struggling with writers block. i knew how i wanted to do the reveal and all that but none of the in-between content.

And finally, actual plot. I’d spent so much time on the back story that i was worried that it would be too boring. Anyways, i want to post more preferences, headcanons and one shots so if you are interested in that, reblog and tag what you’d want me to write. Remember that I don’t just write for The Lost Boys, if you’re interested. If you’re not interested, then just leave a like :)

Enjoy and await updates!

Darkness Within the Light

Chapter 2 of a Dwayne Stephens x Latina!Pregnant!Witch!OC

Warnings: depictions of violence, descriptions of grief and homelessness, threats on life, foul language and adult situations. All readers are responsible for their own media intake, if you’re a minor, it is not my responsibility to decide what is or isn’t appropriate for your viewing.

Summary: Jessamine is new to Santa Carla and mostly fully aware of the strange occurrences that plague the small town. Running away from one large problem into what could be another one isn’t going to deter her from doing whatever it takes to make her unborn child safe again.

Jessamine felt as though there were many reasons as to why events happened the way they did. She was very much a believer in the whole “everything happens for a reason” faith system. However, that didn’t mean she always liked it and was prone to acting less reasonably than she felt she should.

Like now, for instance, as she argued with a local peace officer for parking outside of the police station to rest. In her very much valid defense, she had been driving a very long time to a place that was mostly unfamiliar to her. It was in her best interest to settle down in or near a place that’s entire purpose was to protect and service her. What was so difficult to understand about that?

“Ma’am, I understand completely, but you are not permitted to park your van outside of a police station without an appointment or permit. You’ve given neither and are therefore loitering, which is prohibited,” the surly officer explained. The bright, hot morning sun sparkled off his badge, obscuring his name, but that wasn’t something Jessamine particularly cared about this early.

“Yes, I know, you’ve said so three times, all without letting me fully explain myself. Which is why I haven’t the faintest clue as to what you supposedly ‘understand’ because I haven’t said anything,” Jessamine rambled, tired and frustrated beyond comprehensible belief. “I’m new to town, I just arrived late last night. I don’t know any of the hotels or temporary testing spots and this seemed the safest place to be. So much for serve and protect.”

The cop blistered considerably at her jibe, his fair complexion darkening to a worrying shade of rose in irritation. “Ma’am, it really wasn’t a wise decision to travel to a new place without a previously planned place to stay,” he chided her, shifting his weight to readjust himself in the sweltering heat.

Jessamine took in a deep breath and asked the Great Mother for guidance. She counted out just a few seconds silently, before allowing her breath to flow from her lips and join the countless particles in the surrounding air.

“I do have a place to stay, I was not in the right physical condition to continue driving. As I previously said. I did not mean to cause such a commotion but I was on the verge of losing consciousness at the wheel and would’ve preferred to not have broken a few more serious laws in the process,” she explained as calmly and politely as she possibly could, closing her eyes to envision her self control as if it were a tangible thing.

She imagined herself grasping it and holding it close to her chest to act as a healing balm from her more scattered thoughts. It wrapped around her coolly, bringing down her spiritual and emotional temperature to something more manageable and less distracting.

“I will take my leave now, officer, if you could just point me to the library,” Jessamine sighed languidly, fluttering her eyes back open to see the cop’s disapproving but slightly relieved gaze.

“You’ll find that most public spaces are on the same road, the main one, that branches off between the boardwalk and grandpa’s ranch,” he pointed out, literally pointing in the direction of where she ought to go.

“Grandpa?” She tilted her head questioningly, the spark of recognition flaring in her eyes. “I wasn’t aware everyone called him that.”

The cop laughed loudly from his belly, a lot more at ease knowing she wasn’t some young tourist looking to make trouble. “It’s not as if the old coot could be confused for anything else. I swear that geezer has been past his prime since the day I was born. Every year I think the city council is gonna grant him ‘historical landmark’ status,” he chuckled at his own jokes, obviously knowing the man fondly.

“Wouldn’t surprise me, he has a habit a becoming a local treasure where ever he goes,” the young woman went along, hoping to end the conversation now that she’d gotten what she’d wanted.

The cop readjusted himself once more and placed his wide and stubby hands around his utility belt, also eager to get to a cooler environment. The sun bear down mercilessly, not a cloud to shield the surface from the heaven’s rays, and staying exposed for an extended amount of time was sure to give one heatstroke.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it, little miss, just don’t let me catch you loitering on public property again. Stay in parking spaces or get a permit, ya’ hear?” His stern warning combined with a chastising finger wave did nothing to intimidate her as he might have hoped, but she played along for the outing of the situation.

“Yes, sir, you won’t hear a peep about me,” she agreed gratefully, getting extremely lucky when her old faithful van started on the third raucous twist of her key and wheezed to life. She drove off with a small flutter of her ringed fingers and pulled out of the parking lot. Much to her relief, the officer who’s name she never learned quickly took the opportunity to head back to his ventilated work environment.

Readjusting her review mirror, she analyzed all of the signs on all of the local shops and vendors that made up the entire center of Santa Carla. She drove by so many ice cream shops, diners, gift emporiums and convenience stores that they all blended together. They were all perfect for tourists, especially those who valued the “small town charm” that these shops exuded. There wasn’t a single pharmacy, clinic or any singular building along the strip that was for locals or permanent residents. Jessamine figured that all local practices were private so that the main public income could come from tourist revenue. The only building that was serviced to both local and foreign visitors was the library, and it stood out like a black beacon against a neon background.

Almost literally. While every other shop or store in the area was printed with long faded, but once bright colors, the library itself was donned in various hues of black, brown and grey. Also unlike the other businesses, it stood tall, nearly able to block out the sun with its sheer height. Even the architectural design was different, obviously older and better maintained. There was no chipping of the shutters or cracks in the stone pavement and steps below the large, iron-wrought double doors.

Jessamine honestly felt a bit insecure with her eyesore of a van being parked outside such a place, with dirt and dust caked along the edges, covering the dull paint job of what was supposed to be a vibrant medley of yellows, purples and greens. She tried to dampen the slight shame and fell into a new habit of hers whenever she became stressed and needed to reassure someone that she knew what she was doing.

Placing a hand upon her stomach, her palm slightly sinking into the fat as close as she could without compressing her baby, she began to comfort her unborn child. Logically, she knew that her baby wouldn’t actually be harmed if she placed the full weight of her hand into her stomach, but she didn’t like feeling like the child was crowded within her womb.

“Our Great Mother has kept us safe thus far and continues to bless our ongoing journey, lovey. May she continue to guide us along a safe and happy path while we devote our faith and practices in her name. We must face yet another obstacle in our journey, but it is nothing we can’t handle. We have a home now, there will be no more scavenging for food or fighting over sleeping spots. Let us be off, then,” Jessamine concluded, giving a small kiss to the medallion that hung from her neck.

Usually she would talk to the Great Mother for comfort or. . . him. But she couldn’t anymore, not directly without setting off a chain of events best left alone, as least as long as it took to guarantee her safety. Guiding her child along the right life way was the next best option. But oh, how she missed the comfort of receiving Great Mother’s celestial guidance, a potent and visceral anomaly that she cherished greatly.

Jerking her door violently and having to shove her entire body weight just to open it, she nearly fell onto the sidewalk when it gave way. Dusting herself off and fighting her clothing and hair into a somewhat less unkempt position, she grabbed a large binder with all of her legal papers and approached the large double doors of the library.

Even though her van wasn’t parked all that far away from the library, the young brunette felt all the more intimidated by the sheer power that the large, ancient building gave off. Invisible to the naked eye, but all too clear to those with a deeper sense of the surface plane, like Jessamine. She knew she had no reason to be so cautious around this new place. It was a place of safety. An escape. A sanctuary. A new home to raise her miracle baby and hone her magic to keep them safe. Although the “Murder Capital of the World” wasn’t the ideal place to start a family, it would serve her purposes, and maybe even be a permanent place to settle.

Jessamine was a witch, or Wiccan, if you prefer. An individual in touch with their spirituality and nature and the energy around them. Before this, before the accident and the move, Jessamine wasn’t a particularly powerful witch. And when in her own body, she didn’t carry much of a presence. She spent most of her time on the astral plane, simply absorbing the cosmic power and communicating with the Great Mother. She had a job, of course, a role within her coven.

Just like she was trying to become here, in Santa Carla, she was a historian. She kept track of every known magical artifact or objects with Wiccan significance. Another one of her duties was to translate the runes and glyphs used on maps or in inscriptions or written by Elders in diaries. She also did research on the importance of maintaining or locating said items so that the Coven Council would approve on expeditions to extract those items. She wasn’t one for exertion or physical labor, she was too open-spirited. It made it very difficult to focus on the physical world around her for long periods of time. It’s very dangerous to be separated from your body for long periods of time without protection. Especially in risky environments. She wasn’t the only person who did such research and she wasn’t the most dangerous person who looked for them.

The natural enemy of most modern Wiccan were dark practitioners, people who abused the Great Mother’s gifts for dangerous and harmful purposes. There was no such thing as a dark or evil object or spell. In order for that to be, there’s have to be a dark energy, and such didn’t exist. All energy is ambivalent at best, and geared towards universal balance. Wiccans are those who can hone and use energy as a corporeal thing that can suit one’s purpose. Spells are words that act as hands for that energy. Objects are a talisman to contain energy that can be used later on and influenced by its user. Dark practitioners manipulate the natural forced for malignant intentions. Magic is simply how it is used, which is why there are so many different types.

Jessamine wasn’t well suited to go against dark practitioners, not physically or magically. And certainly not while pregnant. Pregnancy is a natural magic that anyone can register. It is beautiful and powerful, but very dangerous on mothers. It’s not a necessary magic and many choose not to indulge or witness it. And while pregnancy had drastically increased her power, she needed the time and space to get used to the energy that was granted to her. Wiccan who simply use the energy to feel it aren’t particularly knowledgeable or powerful, especially when so young as she was.

That’s why, after muttering a small safety spell and then a luck spell, she mustered up all the courage she possessed and marched through those big, dark doors into what would hopefully be her pathway to a new life.

The entryway opened up to a lobby area and through a revolving door was the actual library. Unlike most modern libraries, there were no computers or phones of any kind. The lobby where Jessamine stood held five iron baskets that were each filled to the brim with newspapers, each one topped with that day’s paper. There were no people that Jessamine could see or sense. No that it mattered, Wiccans we’re good at obscuring their presences if needed. Beyond the lobby, there wasn’t a single person among the huge book shelves, nor at the numerous long tables, nor behind the help desks. It were as though the place was closed or abandoned, despite the doors being unlocked and the lights illuminating the entire building along with the afternoon sunlight.

Grabbing a newspaper, Jessamine sat down in an old and uncomfortable lobby chair and pretended to occupy herself until life made itself known within the library. She was just finishing up the extremely extensive Missing Persons section before she heard a slight shuffling to her right and was startled to find an odd looking young man right in front of her. He was tall and thin, he looked to be of Asian descent, with large, thick spectacles making his brown eyes look owlish. He silently stared at her curiously, his fingers intertwined and laying limply atop his pelvis. He didn’t look to be all that much older than she did, maybe about two to four years her senior. His long-sleeved button up was buttoned all the way to the top and tucked beneath his belted corduroy slacks.

“What are you doing here?” His low voice was smooth and quiet, a bit of a lilt revealing that he wasn’t a native to California, but Jessamine couldn’t quite place it. His rather odd wording also told her exactly why no one besides her was here.

“I applied to work here because you were urgently hiring,” she answered silkily, ignoring his mannerisms. Something told her that there was more to him than just a simple, small town librarian.

“You’re a long way from Vermont, Miss Marcel, and in no condition to be doing what you’re doing,” he chastised her, wagging a disproving finger in her face as though she were some disobedient child.

Making a face, she grabbed his finger within her own fist and held it away from her. “Yes, the undead population here is a tad bit more concerning than what I had initially anticipated.”

He yanked back his finger as though she had burned him and grabbed her binder, flipping through it, his facial features occasionally twitching as he took in the information she provided.

“The vampire problem is being handled appropriately. However there isn’t much to do about the werewolf working the council, and she hasn’t attacked anyone yet, anyway. Besides, you know that’s not what I was referring to,” he insisted while not looking at her at all.

“I’m not looking for anything here other than a job. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, and I don’t expect you to outright believe me, but I don’t mean to cause any trouble. I haven’t the faintest clue as to what’s going on over there, only that me and my child aren’t safe. This library is a safe haven unless threatened, and I am no threat. At least not to you,” she assuaged, dragging back the brown leather binder to her chest and cradling it.

The taller man considered her suspiciously, taking in her slightly haggard appearance and desperate brown eyes. “But you mean to become a threat for someone, no?”

“Not anyone who wasn’t a threat to me first. If it’s any consolation, I don’t know who’s after me, or why. But they killed the father of my child and it seems to have something to do with me. I want no part in whatever grapple for power is going down in that part of the country. I intend to make this my home and make a life for my baby here,” she swore, leveling him with a determined stare.

He swallowed at the severity of her words, the ingenuity leeching out of every pore, in a way that only a mother could manage. He knew who she was before coming here and he wasn’t particularly concerned about the potential consequences. He was powerful enough to take on any sinister forces and it wasn’t like he was the only supernatural being in Santa Carla willing to shed blood to protect their livelihoods. Plus, he could feel that baby, there was more about this entire situation and he knew the Great Mother would prefer him to protect her wounded daughter than return her to her original coven.

“My name is Leighten Waters, I am the librarian of the Santa Carla Public Library as well as the magik head of this region. I am in great need of a historian and welcome your expertise and qualifications. Allow me to explain your duties and lead you to your new living arrangements.”

~*~*~*~*~

End of Chapter 2

Tbh, i’m not that happy with it because it doesn’t have a whole lot to do with the plot and isn’t that interesting but don’t worry, lovelies, it’s all for world building and the introduction of the OC

I know this chapter doesn’t give off much about her, but I just wanted to build a foundation before I got into anything else. We will be learning more about her and her backstory in later chapters and i’m planing on having her meet Dwayne soon ;)

Oop sorry spoilers, but that’s all for now, i hope y’all enjoy and stay interested bc there’s a lot more to come. Pls like, share, reblog, send asks and comments