Daddy Dwayne - 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!