#antler shreds <3

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Chapter Two Amuse-Bouche

TW: Crime scenes, Yelling Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist. Taglist: @punkin-time F.B.I. S.U.V. - BACKSEAT - 3 DAYS LATER   I wake  with a small start as Jack KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKS on the window I'm presently using as a pillow. "We're here." Jack says as i rub my eyes RUSTIC HUNTING CABIN - CHIPPEWA NATIONAL FOREST, MINNESOTA - DAY- A cold wind whips dead leaves around the eerie animal-skull-covered cabin where Garret Jacob Hobbs committed his murders. I am  transfixed by the horrifying cage of bones around Me. Every inch of wall, floor and ceiling is obscured by layers of antler under a veil-like evidence bag. Will focuses on the bloody stag rack as he walks in smiling at me, cutting through the bag to look closer. He turns, examining the rest of the room. Will looks around the room from this horrible vantage point. The door to the little shack creaks open as Jack steps quietly in, a steady unease about him. Will doesn't look up. "Could be a permanent installation in your Evil Minds museum." I say to Jack jokingly, "What we learn from Garret Jacob Hobbs will help us catch the next Garret Jacob Hobbs. There are still seven bodies unaccounted for." Jack says in a grumpy serious tone "Because he ate them." Will says knowingly, " there Had to be parts he didn't eat." Jack says, i shake my head "Not necessarily." Jack considers the magnitude of the room, coldly disturbed. "What if Hobbs wasn't eating alone. A lot of work. Disappearing these girls, butchering them and then worse. All without leaving a shred of anything outside of this room." Jack suggests, Will   and I consider that for  a moment, then: "Someone he hunted with?" Will asks tilting his head and furrowing his brows. "Or someone in a coma. Who happens to also be someone he hunted with." Jack implies my head shoot over to look at jack "Abigail Hobbs is a suspect?" I say concerned, over the past few days I had become maternal and protective over the girl And Closer with Will. "We've been conducting house-to-house interviews around the Hobbs residence and this property." Jack says looking over at me and Will, Will shakes his head "Hobbs and his daughter spent a lot of time together. They spent a lot of time together here. She would be the ideal bait, wouldn't she?" Jack says still implying that Abigail had something to do with this. I study the floor around Us, My eyes catching on something.  "Hobbs killed alone." Will's tone is definitive and Jack doesn't press the issue,but most certainly takes note of it. Will uses the tweezers in his pocket to tweeze something off an evidence bag, holding up a long, red hair in the tweezers. "Someone else was here." I say, eyeing the red hair. F.B.I. ACADEMY - LECTURE HALL - QUANTICO - DAY - I am guest lecturing with Will at his request where, to his surprise and mine, We are greeted with a standing ovation from his students. The clapping stops him cold. Will waves them off, uncomfortable. "Thank you. Please stop that." Will calls to his class, I put my hand on his arm seeing that he is overwhelmed. The applause peters out. Will dumps his briefcase on the desk and dives right into the lecture. He dims the lights, bringing up a slide of Hobbs's resignation letter. "This is how I  and Dr. L/N caught Garret Jacob Hobbs. It's his resignation letter. Anybody see the clue?" Will asks his students this obviously retorical question But A few hands go into the air. Will ignores them. "There isn't one. He wrote a letter, left his phone number...but no address. That's it." I say to Will's class CLICK. Will advances to the next slide and the crime scene photo of the Hobbs kitchen -- dead Hobbs, blood everywhere. It's horrific. "Bad bookkeeping and dumb luck." Will states, Me and Will both look back at the projection remembering the same thing Abigail Hobbs on the floor, her struggle to breathe underscored by the WHEEZE of air through her slashed wind-pipe.  Me applying  pressure to the wounds, and cradling her head in My lap. Will quickly clicks to the next slide: A PICTURE OF GARRET JACOB HOBBS and HIS DAUGHTER ABIGAIL in happier times,SMILING AFTER A HUNTING TRIP. "Garret Jacob Hobbs is dead. The question now is how to stop those his story is going to inspire." I state looking back at the class Will studies the picture, taking stock of the happy Abigail before -- CLICK: Cassie, splayed across the rack of a stag, jumps onto the overhead screen.  "He's already got one admirer." Will says Alana enters as the Trainees file out of the classroom. Will and I are actively avoiding eye-contact with the students filing out, but somehow immediately noticing Alana's arrival. "Hi." says Will, placing his hand over mine hesitantly "How are you, two?" Alana asks  "I have no idea." will responds smiling and chuckling, i chuckle along nodding in agreement "That may change. I didn't want you to be ambushed --" Alana says in a apologetic tone, "Is this an ambush?" i ask, and Will grips my hand a little bit tighter than he was before. "Ambush is later. Immediately later, soon to now. When Jack arrives consider yourself ambushed." Alana says Quickly, and Jack Crawford ENTERS, navigating the last of the Trainees. "Here's Jack." Will says as he nods to over Alana's shoulder "How was class?" Jack asks the Two of us as he stares down Alana. "They applauded, it was inappropriate." Will states, I nod agreeing with him "Review board begs to differ. You're up for a commendation and they okayed active return to the field." Jack says to Will, I look over at Will as he takes this in, between pleased and apprehensive. "Question is... do you want to go back in the field." Alana  asks Will, "I want you to go back in the field, but I told the Board I'm recommending a psych evaluation. For both of you."Jack says looking at both of us. Will glances to Alana, who apologizes with a look. "Are we starting now?" I ask eyeing Alana "Oh, the session wouldn't be with me." Alana says with wide eyes, i tilt my head confused "Hannibal Lecter's a better fit. Your relationship's not as personal. But if you'd be more comfortable with Dr. Bloom--" Jack says, I roll my eyes I'm not gonna be happy or comfortable with anybody picking around my brain and I'm sure Will feels the same. "I'm not going to be comfortable with anybody inside my head." Will says tightening his grip on my hand I squeeze him back to comfort him. "You've never killed someone before, Will. And you have never had someone almost die in your arms, Y/N. It's a deadly force encounter. It's a lot to digest." Alana says looking at our hands "I used to work homicide. I've got a good metabolism." Will states annoyed, Jack takes a step forward, and i take a step back which left me slightly leaning on Will, and Will's hand now on my forearm. "Reason you currently "used to" work homicide is you couldn't stomach pulling the trigger. You just pulled the trigger ten times. And you went into psychiatry after almost having a panic attack about a child in your care when you worked in the E.R, You just almost had a girl die in your arms." Jack says pointedly at both of us "So Psych Eval's not a formality?" i ask jack shakes his head, will and i grab our stuff and start leaving but jack stops us. "It's so I can sleep. I asked you to get close to Hobbs and I need to know that the two of you didn't get too close. How many times have you spent the night in Abigail Hobbs' hospital room?" Jack asks us, Me and Will look down giving jack his answer "Therapy doesn't work on me." Will says  looking up at me , i give him a comforting smile. "'Cause you won't let it." jack responds to Will, i roll my eyes once again "Jack I'm a psychiatrist, and Will has a degree in Psychology. We know all the tricks." i say looking fed up with the conversation. "Un-learn some tricks." Jack says, and walks out of the lecture hall. Alana turns to me and Will"Why not have a conversation with Hannibal. He was there. He knows what you Two went through."  Alana offers, Will  and I bristle. Alana offers us a supportive smile.HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - WAITING ROOM - EVENING - The door OPENS and Hannibal speaks to his next patient: "Good evening. Please come in." Will Graham and Y/N L/N sit inscrutably, waiting. Hannibal Lecter in his office, a prescient smile tickling the corners of his mouth as he sits with Will And I. Hannibal slides 2 pieces of high-quality stationary across the table. "What's this?" Will asks eyeing the paper  " Both of Your Psychological Evaluations. You're totally functional and more or less sane. Well done." Hannibal states with a smile "Did you just rubber stamp Us?" I ask Hannibal smiling, Will is climbing the ladder to Hannibal's library. "Jack Crawford may lay his weary head to rest knowing he didn't break you and our conversation can proceed unobstructed by paperwork."Hannibal says in a disregarded tone. Will studies Hannibal a moment, then: "Jack thinks We need therapy." Will says in a distasteful tone. "What you two need is a way out of dark places when Jack sends you there." Hannibal says as he helps me up the ladder and into Will's hands to pull me up. The simplicity of that strikes Me. "Last time he sent Us into a dark place We brought something back" i say while pulling a book off the shelf and look at the cover. "A surrogate daughter?" Hannibal says watching Me and Wills every move, I debate arguing the suggestion,but decide not too. "You saved Abigail Hobbs' life Y/N.  And You Will orphaned her while trying to save her. It comes with certain emotional obligations, regardless of empathy disorders." Hannibal says "You were there. You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?" Will asks in a questioning and sarcastic tone. "I feel a staggering amount of obligation. I feel responsibility. I've fantasized about scenarios where my actions may have allowed a different fate for Abigail Hobbs." Hannibal says in an almost fatherly tone, Will and I study Hannibal, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "Jack thinks Abigail Hobbs might've helped her dad kill those girls." I say in a disgusted tone. A long silence, then: "How does that make you feel?" Hannibal asks, with a face i cannot read. "How does it make you feel?" will says in a questioning and almost laughable tone, he passes behind me and his hand graces my arm sending butterflies in my stomach. "I find it vulgar." Hannibal replies in a disgusted tone "Me, too." Will agrees, i also find it vulgar. "And entirely possible." Hannibal suggests, i shake my head "It's not what happened." i say in a defensive and almost maternal tone "Jack will ask her when she wakes up or he'll have one of us ask her." Hannibal says, eyeing my body language. "Is this therapy or a support group?" Will asks almost laughing "It's whatever you Two need it to be. Will, Y/N, the mirrors in your minds can reflect the best of yourselves and not the worst of someone else."  Hannibal tells us A moment as that sinks in. FBI SHOOTING RANGE - QUANTICO, VA -- NEXT DAY - BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! shots of a gun ring out it's being fired by Will.  Will blasts away once more at his target. He returns the target from down-range, unhappy with his accuracy but pleased he's not seeing Hobbs. He doesn't notice the arrival of: Beverly and I "I'm pretty sure firearm "accuracy" isn't a prerequisite for teaching." Beverly calls out. Will finds Beverly and I behind him, looking on. I smile Kindly at Will. "I've been in the field before." Will says in response "Now you're back in the saddle. Ish." Beverly says happily, "Ish, indeed. It took me ten shots to drop Hobbs."Will says as he turns back to the target; his bullet holes are all over the place. "Zeller wanted to give you the bullets he pulled out of Hobbs in an acrylic case, but I told him you wouldn't think it was funny." Beverly says jokingly  "Probably not." Will laughs He throws a fresh target on the clips, sends it down range. "I suggested one of those clacking swinging ball things." i say smirking, and Will looks back at me and smirks "Now that would have been funny." He fires and misses the target entirely. "your a Weaver"Beverly points out, "I have a rotator-cuff issue, so I have to use the Weaver stance." Will says as He assumes the position, demonstrating. I study him. I put a hand on his right shoulder, pressing down gently. "You are tight." i say applying pressure to the tense area gently. "I got stabbed when I was a cop." He responds shivering at my touch, "I got stabbed in the third grade. With a number 2 pencil. Thought I was going to get lead poisoning." beverly says behind us "No lead in a pencil. Graphite." Will retorts "Now you tell me." Beverly laughs, I reach around and flare out his left elbow instead. "See if that helps with the recoil." i say taking a step back putting my ear muffs back on smiling. Will exhales and BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM! He drills the target in a much tighter cluster. Beverly returns the target. "It's better. You come all the way down here to teach me how to shoot?" Will say turning around and looking at us, "No, Jack sent us down here to find out what you know about gardening." Beverly says smirking FOREST - DAY Pleurotus Nidiformis to be exact, its stem sprouting from a quilt-work of moist SOIL and DECAYING MATTER. Suddenly, the soil and decay (along with the mushroom) are parted to expose the broken-down, yet unmistakable features of a HUMAN FACE.  the face belongs to a naked MAN being pulled from the ground by EMERGENCY MEDICAL TECHNICIANS. Not that his nakedness is an issue, as most of the man's body is covered in a morbidly vibrant kingdom of fungus and mold. The EMT's place a BODY-BAGGED BODY on a gurney and wheel him towards an AMBULANCE, leaving FIVE MORE OCCUPIED BODY BAGS waiting for transport. As they pass Will, Y/N and Jack slipping under the police tape cordoning off the area. "Lecter gave you Two the "all clear." Maybe therapy does work on you." Jack says talking to me and Will but mainly to Will, "Therapy is an acquired taste I have yet to acquire but sure served your purpose. I'm back in the field."Will response smiling bitter-sweetly, Jack eyes Will feeling the dismissal of his Psych Eval."Local police found more small animal traps in the surrounding woods. They even discovered a thirty gallon drum of pesticide hidden in a hollow tree along with a rusted Radio Flyer wagon." Jack says briefing us, "Didn't want his "crop" disturbed." i say eyeing the garden graves, "All that's missing is a scarecrow." Jack says in a disturbed tone. They approach Beverly, Zeller, and Jimmy Price. Behind them, the FBI'S CSI TEAM works to carefully unearth the three remaining buried victims from their shallow graves. "Seven bodies, various stages of decay, all very well fertilized."Jimmy states, Beverly reaches into a grave containing a partially uncovered, FUNGUS-RAVAGED CORPSE (its EYES, NOSE, and MOUTH covered in DUCT TAPE) and palms a handful of BLACK SOIL --much different than the brown clay walls of the grave. "He buried them in a high-nutrient compost. He was enthusiastically encouraging decomposition." Beverly says very knowledgeably, "Patient way to dispose of a body." Jimmy retorts tilting his head "They were buried alive with the intention of keeping them that way. At least for a little while." Zeller points out, "Long enough for the fungus to eat any distinguishing features and make it nearly impossible to tell how long they'd been in the ground." Jimmy suggests, Zellar points to a CATHETER in the victim's outstretched arm, which we now see is supported by a SECTION of REBAR. "Line and rebar were to administer intravenous fluids after burial. He was feeding them something.", Zeller says examining the body, I turn my head to look at him "No restraints? They weren't bound? Nothing to stop them crawling out?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowed and my head tilted, Jimmy shakes his head "Just dirt." he says as Beverly pulls a tiny brush from the kit on her belt. She clears the debris from under the corpse's nose and pulls back the duct tape revealing a breathing tube jammed into its nostrils. "The other end of the air supply system comes up over there." Beverly points in the direction. I turn to find a small umbrella in the grass. Pulling on a rubber glove, I pick up the umbrella to find an exposed piece of tubing sticking out of the ground. "It isn't a very considerate clean air solution, which clearly wasn't a priority. Cause he's not lazy." I say examining the way the living dead garden was getting oxygen."No, he's not." Will says as he stares at the corpse in the garden grave. "Let's clear the scene. "Jack says as he herds Zeller, Price, and Beverly, along with straggling E.M.T.s and LOCAL POLICE out of the clearing and back into the surrounding woods, away from Will, Y/N, and the graves. they take a deep, calming breath, exhale, and close their eyes. A PENDULUM It swings in the darkness of Will's mind, keeping rhythm with his heart beat. FWUM. FWUM. All sound is muffled then buried beneath the ORGANIC HUM of his CIRCULATORY SYSTEM. FWUM. FWUM. The FUNGUS SHRINKS in a stylistic device, REWINDING Will to a time before the last burial. FWUM. His eyes are closed. FWUM. FWUM. The PENDULUM is now outside his head. It swings in front of Will and the EXHUMED GARDEN GRAVES are now a small field of BURLAP SACK COVERED ARMS -- save for ONE OPEN GRAVE. Next to the grave is the RADIO FLYER WAGON overflowing with moist, BLACK DIRT. FWUM. Will Graham opens his eyes and walks BACKWARDS toward the edge of the clearing and into the surrounding woods. FWUM. FWUM. The PENDULUM STOPS SWINGING, snapping into place as Will snaps into a very clear FOCUS. Will digs the shovel into the moist, black dirt.  to reveal Will is now standing over a NAKED MAN lying on his back in a shallow open grave. Will speaks as he shoves an OXYGEN TUBE into the man's nose, then covers his eyes and mouth with DUCT-TAPED, then tethers his to a piece of REBAR, fixing the catheter in place."I choose this man. I do not bind his arm or legs as I bury him in a shallow grave. He is alive but will never be conscious again." Will monologues, Climbing out, Will shovels a load of compost from the wagon and holds it over the man, preparing to dump it on him. Will dumps the dirt into the grave, covering the man. Will turns away to get more dirt from the Radio Flyer wagon."He won't know he's dying. I don't need him to. This is my design." Will continues monolougeing However, when Will turns back to the grave, he stops cold.  GARRET JACOB HOBBS is now lying in the grave leering up at him. ALL SOUND ABRUPTLY DROPS OUT as Will stares, caught in a vacuum unable to breath. He squeezes his eyes shut, jagged breath threaten hyperventilation. Will focuses and finally opens his eyes, looking back into the open grave. There is NO GARRET JACOB HOBBS. Only a man's body covered in morbidly vibrant FUNGUS AND MOLDS. Will breaths a sigh of relief, relieved to be alone with the dead. Then SNATCH! The FUNGUS COVERED ARM GRABS Will by the wrist, a rattled, wet gasp signals a sharp in-take of air. "HE'S STILL ALIVE!" Terrified, Will SCREAMS in abject horror. I kneel down next to Will and grasp his arm pulling him away from the living corpse. He looks at me and is breathing heavily, "what did you see?" i ask him quietly my hand still on his arm. Will shakes his head "Hobbs" he whispers, i nod and we stand up going over to the car to calm down.FBI HEADQUARTERS - EXAMINATION ROOM -  NEXT DAY - Brian Zeller and  Jimmy Price  hover wearing gloves, aprons, and splash shields. "What has he been soaking in?" Will asks coming into the room with two coffees in hand, "A highly concentrated mixture of hardwoods, shredded newspaper, and pig poop. Perfect for growing mushrooms and other fungi." Jimmy responds looking up at Will, "Wasn't the mushrooms though. what they all died of was kidney failure." Zeller says as he covers the victim. Behind him, the other victims lie on tables of their own, each covered by a sheet."Dextrose in all the catheters. He probably used some kind of dialysis or peristaltic to pump fluids after the circulatory systems broke down." Beverly says as she hands  Zeller a clip board "Force-feeding them sugar water." I question looking at Will and raising my eyebrow, "You know who loves sugar water? Mushrooms. They crave it. As much as a mushroom can crave anything." Jimmy says looking at Me and Will. ""Recovering alcoholics crave sugar. Don't take that personally Buddy." Zeller says jokingly looking over at Jimmy. "Oh I'm not recovering." Jimmy remarks sassily rolling his eyes. "Feed sugar to fungus in your body, the fungus makes alcohol. It's friends helping friends really." Zeller continues. "Alcoholics aren't the only ones with compromised endocrine systems." Will points out and i have a thought, They are all diabetic and he's inducing diabetic comas"They all died of kidney failure? Death by diabetic ketoacidosis?" I offer, "Did you know they were diabetics?" Beverly asks looking at Zeller incredulously, "We don't know they're diabetics." Zeller says rolling his eyes, "They're all diabetics. He induces a coma and puts them in the ground." I say continuing my thought, as Will passing me a coffee, i smile "thank you" i say quietly Will smiles back, Beverly loves watching Will and Y/N work, especially together, barely suppressing a smile."How is he inducing diabetic comas?" Beverly asks tilting her head"He changes their medication. He's a doctor or a pharmacist or works somewhere in medical services." Will says joining my thought process, "He buries them, feeds them sugar to keep them alive long enough for the circulatory systems to soak it up." Beverly says catching on to what me and Will are saying "So he can feed the mushrooms." Jimmy figures it out, i take a sip of my coffee, damn this is good, "We dug up his mushroom garden." Zeller says looking down. "He'll want to grow a new one." Will says walking out. PHARMACY - NIGHT a calm, ordinary Big Box Pharmacy. Despite the vehicles in the parking lot, the storefront is strangely quiet, deserted. After a moment, there's a small flurry of movement... armed, dark-clad figures creeping in swiftly and silently, moving along the outside of the building, weaving through parked cars, taking up positions. Y/N, Will and Jack stride  as they approach the main doors of the Pharmacy like regular customers. "She's the eighth diabetic customer of the chain to disappear after filling an insulin prescription, second from this exact location." Jack says as we walk hastily "The other seven?" I ask looking over at Jack "All over the county. One pharmacist has been all over the county, too." Jack responds, I nod "A floater." Will says, as we walk through the store, "Floater's floating right here. Still logged into his work station." Jack says as he enters walking confidently toward the Pharmacy counter, Will  and I immediately behind him, as Plain clothes agents herd the last customers and cashiers out the door. Jack steps behind the counter and calmly walks inside, holding his badge very clearly in front of him, instructing the six pharmacists:"Everyone. Stop what you're doing and put your hands in the air." The six pharmacists do as instructed, realizing there are MANY F.B.I. AGENTS pointing guns at them across the counter."Special Agent Jack Crawford. Which one of you is Eldon Stammets?" Jack introduces himself, "Eldon was just here. Just now." one of the pharmacists responds looking around with his hands in the air. Jack signals the F.B.I. AGENTS and they fan out."His car still in the parking lot?" Will asks i look at him. PHARMACY - PARKING LOT - NIGHT - ON the swing of a baton as Will smashes the driver side window of Eldon's car. He reaches in, POPS THE TRUNK and --With an grating CREAK, I lift the trunk the rest of the way open - REVEALING it is completely filled with RICH, DARK SOIL. There's a fleeting recoil as Will, Jack Crawford, and Caroline are hit with the stench released from the compartment.  Y/N recovers, shoveling arms-full of dirt."She's in here!" I yell as i  quickly uncover an unconscious, naked Gretchen Speck, an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose."E.M.T.s now!" Jack yells Will and I step away from the trunk as the E.M.T.s move in. we watch as Gretchen Speck is loaded into the back of an Ambulance by Paramedics."We know his name. We know where he lives. We have his car. We'll have him within 24 hours." Jack says reassuring us and himself Jimmy Price approaches Jack, Will, and I with some trepidation."Jack. We just checked browser history at Stammets' work station." Jimmy says nervously, "Do I want to hear this?" Jack says angrily, I assume he's angry because Stammets got away. "No. And yes. But mostly no."  Jimmy stammers PHARMACY - WORK STATION - NIGHT - Jack pulls up the internet browser to reveal a FULL SCREEN SHOT of WILL and Y/N standing in the FOREST CRIME SCENE, heads hung low. The headline reads “TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE.” Zeller, Price and Katz are gathered around the monitor with Jack.“The FBI isn’t just hunting psychopaths, they’re head-hunting them, too, offering competitive pay and benefits in the hopes of using Two demented minds to catch an-- She goes into a lot of detail." Beverly reads the screen "Son-of-a-bitch." Jack says hitting the pharmacy counter with his fist in anger. I look down at the floor, and Will grabs my arm and squeezes it as a sign of comfort. JOHNS HOPKINS HOSPITAL - ABIGAIL’S ROOM - NIGHT - Will sits silently in his chair considering unconscious Abigail Hobbs, comatose in her hospital bed. CLICK-CLUCK- CLICK-CLUCK, the haunting sound of hooves approaching. Will looks up to see a glimpse of the BLACK STAG walking past Abigail's doorway. We are in a DREAM STATE. JOHNS HOPKINS - ABIGAIL'S ROOM - NIGHT 3 - REALITY - Will is sound asleep in his chair, feet propped up on an ottoman. There's a CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK of approaching footsteps as I enter the room. I watch Will sleep a brief moment smiling, then slip a shoe off one foot, gently as to not disturb him. He doesn't stir. I slip off the other shoe, quietly putting them aside. I smile at the sleeping figure of the exhausted man and place  A blanket over him. I walk over and sit on the side of Abigail's bed and begin to read. JOHNS HOPKINS HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT 3 - DREAM STATE - Will steps into the empty corridor. There are no nurses at the Nurse's Station, no Doctors nor patients in the hall. A FAINT, EERIE WHISPER beneath the silence, barely audible. Will stops when he sees an ENCROACHING DARKNESS at the end of the hall that ENVELOPES the corridor and washes over Will like a midnight wave of deep, dreaded sleep. JOHNS HOPKINS - ABIGAIL'S ROOM - NIGHT  - REALITY - Will opens his eyes to see Y/N sitting on the edge of Abigail's bed, laying next to her, reading softly. He realizes he's been covered with a blanket and likes it. "What are you reading?" Will says as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes "Flannery O'Connor. When I was Abigail's age I was obsessed. I even tried to raise peacocks because she raised peacocks, but they're really stupid birds." i say as i smile looking over at Will "You could be reading to a killer." Will says, "Innocent until guilty and all that." i say quietly as i gaze over at the comatose teenage girl. "I don't think we've ever been in a room alone together. At least not outside the bureau or on a case. Have We?" Will wonders, "I haven't noticed. Have we? Not that we're necessarily alone now." I smile at him with a light blush i can feel creeping onto my cheeks. "yeah right. Back to Jack Crawford's crime gimp." Will says as he sits up,"I couldn't believe she wrote that." i say rolling my eyes. "It's kind of hilarious." Will says with a chuckle and i laugh along with him. "Certainly creates an image. I don't need to talk about it if you don't." I smile, with that same faint blush still on my cheeks, "We can talk about or not talk about whatever you want. Honestly, I was enjoying listening to you read." Will says smiling and gazing fondly at me, I blush a little deeper and smile back. "Abigail Hobbs is a success for Us." I say gazing back fondly, "She doesn't look like a success." Will says in a good natured tone, "Don't feel sorry for yourself because we saved this girl's life Will." i smile at Abigail "I don't. I don't feel sorry for myself at all. I feel- good." Will admits smiling  There’s a long pregnant pause as Will soaks in the admission, relishing it for himself, questioning it. JOHNS HOPKINS HOSPITAL - CORRIDOR - DAY- Eldon Stammets emerges from a door labeled MENS ROOM, strolling down the corridor now wearing GREEN SCRUBS. He nonchalantly grabs a parked gurney in the hall, pushing it toward an ELEVATOR and disappearing inside. The elevator doors open and instead of seeing Eldon Stammets, it's Will Graham and Dr. Y/N L/N. Wills phone RINGS as They are stepping out. He answers. "Hello. Yes we are." Will responds looking over at me. A moment as Will listens, then his expression falls. He jams his cell phone into his pocket  grabs Y/N's hand and runs. ANOTHER CORRIDOR Will and Y/N sprint down the hall toward Abigail's room, navigating patients and nurses in their mad dash. Will and Y/N halt outside the door. Reaching into his trousers for his revolver, he takes a measured step into the room... JOHNS HOPKINS HOSPITAL - ABIGAIL'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS -Will finds it empty. No Eldon Stammets. No Abigail Hobbs. Will's mind races as he backs into the hallway, snatching the elbow of a passing NURSE and demanding:"Where is she? Abigail Hobbs. The girl in this room. Where is she?" I say in a serious yet panicked tone "They took her for tests." The nurse says frightened "Who took her? Who took her?" Will shouts worriedly the Nurse stammers, but Will and I are already running for the stairs. JOHN HOPKINS HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - DAY - Will  and I bound down the stairs, several steps at a time. Eldon Stammets calmly pushes the gurney carrying COMATOSE ABIGAIL HOBBS. At the other end of the Hallway -- The STAIRWELL DOOR suddenly OPENS, and a winded Will Graham and Dr. Y/N L/N rushes out. Eldon startles, moves. Will raises his gun and SHOOTS. BLAM! The bullet takes out a piece of Eldon Stammets shoulder, violently propelling him backwards, his gun clattering to the floor as he reached for it. I pull Abigail's gurney into the hall, moving in on Eldon, kicking his gun out of reach. Will looks down at Eldon, who is in a state of shock. "What were you going to do with her?" Will shouts as i check Abigail over for any signs of injuries "We all evolved from mycelium. Only reintroducing her to the concept." Stammets says breathing heavily,  "By burying her alive?" i say angrily looking up protectively, "That journalist said you both understood me." he says looking up at us confused "We don't." Will says almost snarling "Well You would have. you would have. Walk into a field of mycelium, they know you're there, they know you are there. Their spores reach for you when you pass by. I know who you're reaching for. I know. Abigail Hobbs. You should have let me plant her. You would have found her in a field where she could finally reach back." Stammets stammers,  Will  and I stare at Eldon a moment as the CLAMOR of approaching footsteps, no doubt investigating gunfire, approach, then: Will taps the EMERGENCY STOP BUTTON and leans in the doorway as a BUSTLE OF COPS, NURSES and PARAMEDICS approach.

#hannibal nbc #will graham x reader #hannibal x reader #fem!reader #hannigram #hannigram x reader

[lunarfeat21]

To the anon that send me an ask, my dumbass deleted it by accident and I am sorry! Fortunately, I copied/pasted your ask in my notes before my mistake, so we’re saved!

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Anonymous asked:

I HAVE ARRIVED YET AGAIN >:]

So it’s time for me to ask you about your favorite characters in RiD2015 >:)

No backing off from this one, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!

*Runs away like a gremlin but trips on a rock and falls over*

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Oh poor anon, you have no idea what you unleashed upon... nah just kidding, but thank you for releasing my inner feral gushings of my favorites!

Without further ado, I RELEASE MY BELOVES!!!

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Let's start off with my all time favorite!

Strongarm

What do I like about her? hmm... EVERYTHING!

From her strong and buff physique (it's nice to see more frame variants in femmes, WE NEED THEM HASBRO!), her boundless energy, to her impressive memorization of protocols and their numbers. A tough, but smart cookie.

 I’m not sure about you guys, but I’ll spend HOURS listening to her just rambling about regulations on a car ride while nodding like an idiot. Gosh, I’m starting to fall for her…

Fixit

Fixit, Fixit, Fixit, my sweet wholesome minicon bean!

Adorable dude, a cheery character that I adored when seeing him on screen. Had a chuckle when he glitched out when he was about to say certain words in dyes- mics- rhymes! Regardless, dude helped his team out in every way. He’s the team’s technician and repairman, basically the backbone, even pulling out profiles of the Alchemor’s escapees via ship’s computers. 

I remember one episode where my dude is brawling a shady manager of an ex-champion (while I cheered on at 3 am) or in another episode where my dude’s original programming kicked in and turned into a terminator, but a prison guard… it doesn’t really help that there's about 100+ minicons like him (tbh I don’t know the total numbers)… do what you will with this information…

Thunderhoof

The mafia boss, angry moose on the loose, boss... babe

Bastard reminded me of those stereotypical noir film mafia bosses (it doesn’t really help that there’s him eating pizza in an official art piece… help…), and I'm not wrong. Plus his appearance and voice is… enamored to say the least…

Bro sounds pissed and will be pissed if something doesn’t go in his way, or someone doing stupid shit. Come on, this huge antler jockey is a freaking crime boss, so of course why wouldn’t he be pissed? He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wants, whether going back to cybertron, leadership, or objects of interest (and shredding someone to pieces, I’m talking about you, Clampdown! You sniveling snitch!).

Jetstorm & Slipstream

My Sweet Bun 1 & Sweet Bun 2, I love you both to death!

Both him and Slipstream are freaking cute (look me straight in the eye and tell me otherwise), and both are nearly the same height as a grown man (source? A screenshot I took for references in future digital drawings).

Jetstorm is a bit more creative than Slipstream and Drift combined, but a bit as well impulsive (which can lead him to trouble with Drift). Overall, he and other Minicons are adorable and if they committed crimes, I'll excuse them.

I’m going to repeat what I said about Drift’s minicons earlier, both are freaking adorable! Unlike Jetstorm, Slipstream is more chill and prefers to follow his master’s instructions. Despite the contrasting personalities, these two are a force to be trifled with via teamwork! Mess with one, get wrecked by the other! Perish!

Wildbreak

Gotta love the dude, timid but nice. Before ever seeing on screen, I read some posts that headcanoned him as the sparkling of Knockout and Breakdown. After that, I can see why. Cute tho!

#ProtectTheChildAtAllCosts!

Steeljaw

Alright I’m not beating a bush, this mf is attractive as fock!

At any dang episode I’m watching, the scheming wolf always makes me smile as if I’m happy to see him! (well duh, I am!) 

He knows how to capture attention with that soft, yet alluring charismatic voice, offering compliments, and seems nice… except that shit he’s doing is an illusion, and will stab you in the back if there’s an opportunity! Brother nearly had me in the first half, not gonna lie. This dude knows how to wrap people in his claw, or if that fails, time to off them in the name of his future empire!

Nightra

Oh my god… Nightra is something…

How did she and Strongarm become friends? Both are competitive, yet polar opposites of each other. Don’t get me wrong, I like her as well, so playful, carefree, and mischievous (even that leads her to trouble and ultimately her going rogue).

Aside from her similar buffy appearance like Strongarm (omgistarttofallforbuffywomen), her voice is… soothing to hear, yet not AND IT MADE ME BLUSH!!! THEY PICKED A GOOD VA FOR THE JOB! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I had to go to dreamland (lalalalalalala)

Shadowraker

Another attractive mf, and bastard (derogatory)

Fucker has good aesthetics (color wise and design), if charsmatic is a aroma, it’s him with a dark aura. Twisting innocent bots into their rotten former shells, yeah this is what this dude does after his ‘shadows’ brought in the stolen goods in exchange for shelter and guidance. Mmm, moral corruption…

I like you Shadowmaru-err Shadowraker, but I don’t like you at the same time. I remember when you kidnapped my fave minicons and promised that you would punish them for betraying you! (glad you got boxed on the pede, ya jerk!) Glad karma bit you in the ass!

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Alright, gushing time is over! That's all folks! BYEE!

#feat21 speaking #ask #ask and ye shall recieved #rid2015 #tf rid15 #tf rid 2015 #me gushing over them #also sorry for not responding sooner #rid slipstream #rid nightra #rid steeljaw #rid thunderhoof #rid jetstorm #rid strongarm #rid fixit #rid wildbreak #Rid2015 Logs

[teenagenerdtrashcowboy]

I would like 2 know 🥺🥺........[SILLY]

Okay, gonna go on a yapping spree

Quick warning ima mention some topics like self harm, and death

So here's B one because it has a lot to it it

So like I like to believe B was born in the 2000s, now his actual bio family has a very big link to this god called stardom (I'm going to make a design for them soon but to describe them, they usually wear an outfit similar to a priest, they have stars scattered across it and they have very long curly hair. They also have traits that of deer, they have hooves, ears and antlers) now Bs mother had him and his twin sister (brother at the time) a day apart. Right so she had this almost prophecy and had to give up B and his younger sister. Now like I've Said before B is a trans guy, he used to be a girl, who was called Nicole (if you read the prologue it should link up to James' Superstition) they were taken by this very caring woman who had a rather neglectful husband. So Reagan and B (or refered to as Nicole at the time) grew up with very little affection, and not understanding why someone could possibly be nice to him :(. Now onto the part about B breaking his leg really badly, he was actually around 5 1/2 at the time and was in the basement of his house, he was playing about and knocked over a very heavy piece of metal on his leg, breaking his femur bone in 3 places, this was actually really traumatic to B obviously, this lead to B developing a feeling that he should look all around for cautions around him, sometimes leaving him a bit panicked.

When he had turned 6, a new person had suddenly come into his clas in primary school, this kid had come from Germany and didn't know much english (you'll never guess who it was/pos) so they had actually become good friends, this kid actually was James (hence James getting a superstition in the prologue that he Recognised B.) Now after all that, Bs step mother had a child, but unfortunately one day she suddenly got seriously sick, B actually has a memory of him when he was just 11 in which his mother was visibly shaking a lot and was pale as fuck. She unfortunately died a month after B turned 12. Because of Bs step dad being rather neglectful, B and Reagan spent most of their time caring for their step brother, this went on for a while, B usually convinced Reagan to let him take care of him more because he just wanted Reagan to have time to grieve the sudden lost of their step mother, this led to B missing out a lot from school. This actually one leading cause to the s/h he had actually done it once after his mother died but soon all the stress caused him to cut himself multiple times per day.

Soon his uncle had taken in B and Reagan and they had to move away, leaving James alone without B.

Now time skip to when B was 18, this is one of his major traumas, B had only just become a backrooms explorer and had some experiences with it, a group of his friends decided to bring him along because he had a lot of experience already, so they could explore a rather dangerous room. B was obviously like "fuck no don't do that you could die" but they kept on trying to convince B until he gave in. Before they knew it they were cornered, B was actually the first to get attacked an entity charged at him and dug its teeth deep into the side of Bs neck (Wilbur soot core) and thundercunted him across to the side, all the others was like "oh shit" and tried to fight but unfortunately were ripped to shreds, B had to actually lay there and watch it unfold because if he moved he could become another victim.

Obviously after he was in therapy for a while and then disappeared and soon met James again.

Now James' one, a whole lot less terrifying. James was born in Germany obviously, at the time he spoke only German, until his parents decided to move to wales, so he had to learn a but of English. Fortunately the teachers there did give him extra help with english and understanding stuff. You see James is autistic but he didn't know anything about it fully until he was about 11,he thought it was normal to not understand social cues, have really big interests in things, to stim or get panicked by loud noises. James actually would get very stressed, and often would be babied, making it worse he wanted respect. This led to a lot of stress and soon he started to develop coping mechanisms, one of the main ones being eating (a reason why he's quite chubby in my hc, he's also chubby because I am a bit too). Alongside that James gets very clingy to people if they actually are nice to him, this can be quite self destructive because if they are gone for a while he can get really upset, James actually for a while had major separation anxiety when him and B first got together, this poor guy would actually cuddle pillows. James has actually had a really big hype fixation on chemistry since he first learnt about it but unfortunately he couldn't become a chemist so he chose the next best thing. Now about why James needs that visor. James had always had problems with his sight, he actually wore glasses but soon it started to get much worse until he actually went particularly blind, he was given the visor so he could see again and they could hopefully soon find a cure for the sudden blindness. But now they really can't, because uh oh an entity got him and ripped off the visor and pulled out his eyes, fortunately B ran in and saved him, and that led James to getting a bit of trauma too.

#dave and bambi #dave and bambi popcorn edition #popcornedition #Azhers rambles #asks

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group B Round 3

[image ID: the first image is a character sheet for Tougou Mimori, a girl in a Japanese school uniform. her dark hair is swept to the side with a bow and she's sitting in a wheelchair. the second image is of Tirsiak, a humanoid being with white hair, white fox ears and a matching tail, and thin brown antlers. her outfit is yellow and brown with black furs. she's standing in a foggy, stone hallway. end ID]

Tougou Mimori

she has 2 names given to her by different families, she's a magical girl (hero), she's a sniper, she tries to destroy the world because she wanted to end her and her friends suffering, she canonically has a crush on her best friend (another girl <3), she watched another friend of hers die due to their job (being heroes) but continued to fight anyway (even though the next fight proceeded to disable both her and her remaining friend/teammate as well as make her lose her memories), she's kinda nationalistic (a character flaw but a charming one), she designed the hero club's (her current hero team as tougou) website [additional propaganda 1] [additional propaganda 2]

Tirsiak

The dev got tired of drawing scary things so decided to draw something cute instead. She's still deadly, though, and if she catches you the wolves will rip you to shreds

#obscurecharactershowdown #obscure poll #group b round 3 #tougou mimori #washio sumi #yuuki yuuna is a hero #washio sumi is a hero #tirsiak #spooky's jumpscare mansion

[dear-claws]

Hey a jason x anon or ur oc doing stupid shizzz Doodle.

why not both !!

roasting marshmallows + anon cuddling :)

sorry this took so long!!! had a very busy weekend lol

#fanart #slashers #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #oc #original character #anonymous #the little men in my head #antler shreds <3 #dear little deer #request

[remuscore]

My Human AU Sides’ Describing Their Genders

Remus: I am a freaky fetish freak. I am darkness’s beloved dog. I am the fungus under your toe nails. I am also very pretty girl that smells like iron.

Roman: I am a GODESS. I have no clue, but it’s ETHEREAL and so fucking HOT. You’re in love with me <3

Logan: I don’t understand this trend, Remus, what do you mean describe your gender?? I’m agender and I like to present masculine. Is that what you mean?? No????

Patton: *sobbing* I don’t know anymore I’m a girl that wants a beard and to be a dad.

Janus: You know when you see something strange in nature like a two headed snake, the bloody shreds of a deers antlers, or moss and plants growing from the bones of a carcass?? That’s what makes me feel like a girl. It makes me smile.

Virgil: None gender, left boy.

#it speaks #remus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #taco bell au

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (5)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

 Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au 

 Rating: 18+ / nsfw

 Word Count: 8.7k we really out here getting longer with every chapter because a bitch is hungry

 Summary: Privation looms lingeringly without your mate of whom hunts for you deep within the wood. In his absence, he still manages to fill the void even if it is only ephemeral. The sun watches while you fall prey to your desirous natures and it is only when the golden orb has begun to drip lower along the sky’s body that it is time for you to then be guided by the hands of other omegeans to prepare you for your mate upon his return even when no one yet knows, beyond you, who has already staked his claim on you. When the call of your alpha announces his incoming arrival through the forest beyond, that’s when you heed his howl and go to welcome him home, but what will you find when you get there?

 Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scent marking, scenting, fingering, begging, praise kink, female masturbation, cunnilingus, breeding/impreg kink, character injury (someone gets hurt, but it isn’t serious)

A/N: My fingers are literally sore from writing so much. This one got pumped out in like a day and I’m honestly a clown because we really out here going from 1.5k with the first chapter all the way to 8.7k for chapter five. I think my hands are still shaking as I write this, but hey, this beast is finally out of the cage of my mind like it wanted to be! Seriously, this one did take some hours of sleep out of me in its need to be written, so please feed my soul and let me know that all this effort was deserving of the lack of sleep in the midst of it being midterm week at my university. 

You guys have been so freaking sweet with your kind messages so far and I really am floored at how everyone seems to be enjoying this story, so please keep that up, y’all! I hope that I did justice to everything that has been written so far and more than anything, I hope to have been able to please you all with this next installment. Now, without further ado, I give to you part five of COC!

 Part 9  Part 8  Part 7 Part 6  Part 4  Part 3  Part 2  Part 1

Feebleness fleetingly finds you under its clutches while it grasps you within the boscage of the woodlands.

 It is commanded by the titillating tendrils of your alpha’s spiced scent and your fingers tug tightly around the fine furs without thought as you stare longingly at the mound of vestments that Jungkook had so torturously left in his wake, a whine releasing itself from the bowels of your body as you try to stand on dangerously debilitated ligaments that are still too weak to bear your weight after the satori that has swayed your entire being.

 Too distracted in the pheromones of him that wrap yearningly around you, you don’t remember to pick up the abandoned silken necklace that your alpha had wantonly pulled off and away from you as your wobbling knees bring you to the forsaken garb he’d peeled so salaciously from his beautiful body.

 Next to it are the shredded, tattered remains of the trousers he’d been wearing and, distantly, you wonder how many pairs he has ruined in the past through the multitudinous shifts he must have gone through as a purebred alpha that must have been so prone to surrender to his wolf and trade his human feet for the paws of his beast.

 Your wolf bays at you to pick both up in the need to keep as much of him near to you as you can and, with embers in your mind burning only for him that are stoked by his redolence, you heed it as your knees buckle when you bend with effort to grab them.

 Belatedly, it occurs to you that your alpha had not brought an alternative change of clothes given the state of his wrecked attire.

 As you slowly run your fingers reminiscently over the destroyed fabric, there’s a thought that pushes at your conscience between a pair of golden irises that flash commandingly at you and through the smoke that hazes your mind, you remember what he’d told you.

 “I expect my mate to be waiting for me before I let every wolf in this fucking compound know that you’re mine when I claim you at the ceremony tonight.”

 The words melt away at your insides in the clear claim that they heat you with and you really can’t help it when you bring both articles that had adorned him close to your chest as you turn to tread through the woodland back from whence you came as your cheeks run hot with realization.

 Your alpha would anticipatedly await you to receive him back from the hunt he was to lead in your honor.

 He wanted you to be there to welcome him over all of the other bitches in the pack and, like the dutifully loyal omega you were meant to be, your mind had already set into its stone that you would later return to the greenwood upon the sun’s setting when all the alphas would rightfully reemerge from the forest’s foliage so that you could greet your own.

 You would do so with open arms that would bear not only your warmly joyous touch, but also the mended clothing he’d damaged to hunt for you that would serve to preserve the modesty that he intended only to show to the pack. Beyond closed doors, you wanted him to shred it all only for you.

 Beyond all of that, though, there’s the searing flame of possession that your wolf finds its rump sat firmly against in the calefaction of the emotion that is ablaze within you and you find that you’re willing to fuel it into a wildfire so that everyone will know that your alpha belongs to you should he wear the restored vestments that you would effortfully stitch back up with the hands that longed to caress and find themselves over his perfect aureate skin.

 These are what have you promptly turn to leave with the flutter of bird’s wings beating against your bosom as you amble along in obliviousness to the pair of lupine eyes that observe you protectively in the distance.

 It is only when you walk so far into the rays of the reaching sun that even your striking silhouette can no longer be beheld by them that their owner whirls around, his ears flicking toward the clang of antlers that must belong to two rearing bucks some ways off and without a moment to lose, he’s gone in the rush of the autumn leaves.

 Lost in the sea of pheromones that wash over you as the spray of them pools around you while you press your nose greedily into his garment, you pay no mind to the mated alphas or betas walking about at the early hour.

 What does demand your attention, however, is the sudden onset of sharp, panging pains that, with every step and breathe you take, sink their teeth deeper within the soft skin of your belly, a whimper caught in the fabric your mouth is held against as a vicious torrent of feverishness has your body temperature begin to lower without the warmth of your alpha as a vicious headache starts to pound against your cranium.

 In the midst of it, your own musk pungently pervades the air only to draw the eyes of unwanted wolves to your sweet smell that is enhanced due to the starting symptoms that have already set your body off in the absence of your alpha that it pines for.

 It is only when you manage to close the door to your chambers behind you, with your alpha’s clothes covetously pressed against your nose as if drunk on his ambrosial taste, that you shirk Jungkook’s furs from your body to throw them on your bed as your wolf yaps insistently to  nest amongst the pelt until the scent clinging to it has rooted itself to your cot so that no part of it has gone unseeded by your alpha.

 Once you’re satisfied with the assortment of dips and ripples of the blackened blanket of pelts that cover your duvet in its entirety, that’s when you lay down to nestle the furs, your baser being demanding that you lather yourself in its savory smell that you wish to soak in until you reek of your alpha.

The soft, downy pelage of the pelt caresses you against your exposed calves so very tenderly and, abruptly, the dress you wear is far too rough as it grazes against your skin in your movements as you quickly divest yourself of it. Somewhere in your maneuvers to take it off, your legs rub against each other only for you to widen both eyes at the sight that greets you.

 There’s slick that all but drips from your sex and it glistens along your thighs in the thick coating that marks you there and you suck in a breath as you ascertain the afflictions your body has been wracked with.

 You’ve just gone into the pre-heat acutely accompanied by a fever that every omega has intermittent interludes of upon finding their alpha.

 As if to remind you of this, a sudden shiver falls over your skin in the frosted frigidity that freezes the air around you in how cold your boudoir has just become under your steadily decreasing internal temperature.

 Without the physical comfort of your alpha, you whine, your fingers finding his garment that you’d thrown on the bed beside his furs to quickly lay it atop your bare bosom, your nipples hardening against the flocculent material that is softer than satin as it brushes against the sensitive buds deliciously.

 You sigh shakily in satisfaction as the cloth along your chest coaxes your skin with its gentle warmth through its fibrous fingers while his furs embrace you as you silently thank your alpha for leaving such giving gifts behind to smoothly soothe you in his absence.

 Your moment of respite is short lived, however, when an edged twinge of a cramp bites low into your abdomen as you grimace in pain, a fresh accretion of your juices finding your folds as you cry out the only name that could ever hope to free you from such sensations.

 “Jungkook,” his name is whispered from your lips, an irrational need setting itself alight within you as the picture of your alpha half nude from the forest flashes provocatively through your mind.

 He’d been so profoundly pulchritudinous under the morning rays and, with those dark eyes and wet mouth that had been so eager to welcome you to him, he’d only allured you more to him between his words of letch that had left you so parched after him. You can still imagine the way his hot tongue had laved at you, can still feel the deep press of his digit that had pushed down wantonly within your own lips as you’d sucked at it like a newborn calf.

 His finger had been so obscenely long while his hands had been so lewdly lined with veins over the bones that bore so much strength and you wonder how those digits would have felt deep within your velvet depths while you ponder what those lustful lips of his would do to you if they found their rightful place along your neck. You cogitate how well his defined, chiseled body would fit against yours while he’d drive his cock without abandon into the silken home of your pussy while he’d utter lascivious indecencies to you born out of lubriciousness for you.

 All of this has your hand sliding down your body without pause, your eyes closing as new need begins to burn hotly within your system in longing for your alpha.

 Your fingers find your neglected bud of nerves while you imagine that it is him that stands before the legs that you spread without hesitation for him as hunger flares behind golden rises that sear cravingly into you. You envision that it is him that commands you to taint yourself this way as you breathe in the igniting incense of him that has the flint of desire smoke profusely with the heat that simmers there as he clouds your mind until there is nothing but him that lingers there.

 “Touch yourself for me, pretty,” his hazily hallucinated voice demands within your mind.

 Helpless to deny him even in your fantasy, you obey in the want to please him even within the imaginary realm your head concocts of him. Your brows pull together in concentration as a ring finger slips between your saturated sex to collect the slick that accumulates there before finding its place atop the neglected bundle of nerves that have been ineffective for years in relieving you of your deep desire that has only ultimately and uncontrollably grown throughout your years without the aid of the alpha that you belonged to.

 Upon the first glide of a middle finger over your clit, you moan, your other hand closing compactly around the bed of furs beneath you as you envision that pink tongue of his darting delectably from his mouth to lick at his lips as he stares raptly at you before uttering,” Come on, my omega. Show me how those tiny fingers try to sate that pretty cunt that only your alpha could ever satisfy,” you imagine that he leans over you to plant two hands on either side of your hips as he sniffs, his eyes rolling back at your musk as he burrs, “Let me see how you’ve tried to give yourself the pleasure that can only be granted by the alpha you were made for, pretty.”

 You shakily sigh in response in the thirst that implores the sustenance of him through another deposit of slick as one finger begins to slowly stroke your clit while your other dips between your generously wetted folds to circle and prod at the hole that woefully weeps its essence in the denial of what it craves most.

 Helpless in the inability to disobey him, one digit breaches your sopping entrance while your other streaks over the bundle of nerves crowning your womanhood in a figure-eight pattern as you throw your head back while imagining that it is his lips that find your neck to leave behind marks that brand you as his.

 “Gods, yes, alpha...please,” You cry out, your digits inadequate next to the ones that have sinfully set your soul alight.

 Your finger sinks easily into your wet sheath as you drive it back and forth before your pace inevitably quickens, your hips pitifully trying to chase the elusive hand of pleasure as they begin to gyrate atop the bed while your other hand latches tighter onto the furs beneath you.

 You envision that the mouth you wish would claim you as his travels torturously down your body until he’s peering edaciously at your glistening sex, the squelching sounds that grow louder in your fastening ministrations only beckoning him further in the drenched deposit of slick that amplifies it.

 You envisage that he brings one plump lip between his teeth as he stares like a starved man at you behind eyes that glint with appetite as he hums, “Mmm, look at that cunt crying for its alpha. You really are desperate for me, aren’t you, pretty?” He lowers himself down to his knees to give you a piercingly hungry glare, “Tell me what you want, my omega, and I may be merciful and give you the release you want so badly. Obey this- obey me -and I will bring you to your end that was only ever mine to give to you, pretty.”

 Your fingers hasten their movements as you bear more force down and over your rapidly engorging clit, the digit that lodges itself needlingly inside you still not enough as you whimper out, “A-ah…please, alpha. I want your mouth on me. Give me your mouth, alpha.”

 The desperation for him flares as you imagine the smirk born of amusement before he descends down to your folds that shine with the sheen of your slick that has made a mess of your thighs and the bed of furs beneath you. You watch as craving of the likes in which you’ve never endured settles heavily across your abdomen only to coil tightly when, with his eyes still locked on yours, his rapturous tongue licks a long, languid stripe across the delicate skin of your inner thigh only to cause you to bite down on your tongue in effort to trap the sound of sin that yearned to escape you in the fervid felicity of that alone.

 You envision your alpha lapping unmercifully at you until the only wetness draped across your thighs is his leftover saliva, your back arching with each flick of his tongue against the sensitive skin as you whine in spite of his teasing.  

 “Is my mouth all that you desire, pretty? I could do so much more to you with my fingers. I could fuck you so well with just my hands,” your alpha muses as one digit prods at your entrance unmercifully in the way that it nudges itself back and forth between the folds of your sex as you gasp out. It’s when he extricates it from you, with your juices still soiling his finger, that he takes it into his mouth as he groans only to have you throw your arm over your face as redness sweeps over your cheeks as you pule.

 Your alpha releases his digit from his mouth with a ‘pop’ as heat winds you up when he urges, “Beg for me, my omega. Only then will I give you more. I want to see how much you need me.”

 The words fall easier than the waters from a river as you visualize him smirking knowingly as he dangles your pleasure before you like bait on his hook as you babble, “Want your fingers, too, alpha. I want you to fill me up with them until I’m so full of you that I can’t think anymore. Please, Jungkook.”

 Without warning, two fingers push pleasantly inside you as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape while your alpha licks at his lips, entranced in the sight of his fingers disappearing into your sex before he brings them backward only to bury them deeply within you again without prelude. Hot breath is blown over your pussy as he separates his digits in a scissoring motion that has your walls contracting around him as you press your lips together in effort to stifle the sounds he so easily draws out of you.

 It’s when he furls his fingers inside you in a perfect motion to have your toes curling that your body trembles in the sensation, your alpha noticing this as he utters, “Take it, pretty. I know you can. You’re being such an obedient girl for your alpha. I fucking love it.”

 The praise has you preening as you pant and when his tongue flattens over your womanhood to trail tortuously up so that no part of you is left untouched by him, that’s when you keen.

 “Gods, you are so fucking delicious on my tongue. I could do this forever and never tire of your flavor, my omega,” you imagine that he replaces his hand with yours only to cause you to writhe when two fingers circle over your clit unrelentingly while he gives a light, chaste kiss to the innermost part of your left leg before, with lips still coated in your essence, he croons, “Because you’ve been so good in allowing your alpha to taste you, I will give you your reward, yeah?”

 You hardly have time to think on the words he feeds you with before his lips are planted over your vulva, the wet muscle attached to the bottom his mouth sweeping along your slit while his thumb whorls over the bundle of nerves as his nose brushes against your clitoral hood to cause you to cry out.

 “Alpha, please,“ Your voice waters down into a mewl as you envisage that Jungkook, without warning, pushes his tongue so far inside you that your eyes roll to the back of your head with a stuttered sound.

 You envision that you can feel the way he grins knowingly as he watches you fall apart on him, his eyes narrowing heatedly as he plunges the appendage damningly with you as he utters, “That’s right, pretty. Call out the name of the only one who can make you feel this good. Gods, you’re so beautiful all spread out and bare for me just like you were always meant to be. Fuck, pretty.”

 You do as he says, stammering out his name in labored breaths as you imagine that he thrusts his tongue into you without fail as the tip of it perfectly hits the cluster of nerves buried deep within you over and over again. Soon, your walls begin to clench tellingly around him and by this point, your knuckles have gone white with how tight you grasp the furs in the hand that you’re not using to sinfully stimulate all of this.

 When you envisage that it is his fingers that splay possessively over one breast only to fondle it amongst digits that twiddle your nipple between them while he looks at you with a hooded gaze darkened only with the most carnal of desires, that’s when the coil of craving within you constricts as your alpha rasps, “You’re close, aren’t you, pretty? Fuck, when I take you, I can’t even imagine how you’re going to feel around my knot,” the last word has your walls closing threateningly around him as you moan out in the need your wolf bays at to be filled fully and completely by the only cock that you want to impel itself in your silken sheath and in response, he hisses, “What, you like that? You want my knot, pretty? You want to be bred until you’re swollen and round with my pups? Is that it, my omega?”

 You nod, too far gone into your indecent illusion to care anymore as your back bows when he sucks your sex between his lips as you drawl, “Yes, alpha. Please, give it to me.”

 There’s a devastating chuckle between your legs that has you trembling in anticipation and when the digits of his fingers roll your nipple between them as if he’s done this thousands of times before as he pairs it with an especially fatal propulsion of his tongue that strikes your g-spot so piercingly that it has your body convulse dangerously around it.  It is only when you’re squirming that your alpha’s all-consuming irises flash commandingly as he growls, “You’ll get your fucking pups out of me only if you yield to your alpha,” he says with the eternal flames of voracity blazing through golden rises that devour you whole as he eats you like a deprived man while he professes,” Surrender to me, pretty. Submit to me and show me how bad you want your alpha.”

 He pairs this with a catastrophic swipe of his tongue once, twice and three more times before you’re throwing your head back in blissful pleasure as you fall hopelessly apart while you plummet into your end that wracks you to a writhing mess atop soiled furs while your walls flutter fiercely around the two fingers you had unknowingly undulated against in your search for release.

 When you extricate your digits from your body, a string of slick clings to your fingers and, longingly, you wish that it wasn’t your essence on your hand, but instead that of your mate’s.

 Only your labored breaths break the silence that sets in the aftermath of your indecent deeds, your muscles aching from the awakening of new ones that have not been in use before amongst the old that have been afflicted after the strenuous strain that your alpha had wrought on your body.

 It takes a few minutes to come down from your high and your headache is furiously fast in reemerging once the remnants of your climax have faded as you groan in effort to sit up. It is then that you notice the tattered trousers you’d neglected before in the ravenousness that had eaten away at you for your alpha and, with a new resolve that prickles past the prominent pounding of your head, you decide that now would be a good time to mend them so that you will have something to present to your alpha upon his return to the compound.

 You stand on unstable legs that are beginning to become a familiarity to you in the wake of your alpha as you pull Jungkook’s garment over you and are completely content with the way the article of clothing covers your intimate parts as you fold it over your chest to tie it together with a silken cord that had been buried inside.

 Finding your small sewing kit that you’d left abandoned in the corner of your chambers, you situate yourself along the cluster of plush pillows settled along the window seat as you set to work on fixing your alpha’s attire.

 You try to mind your fingers that the needle had left you privy to numerously numbed fingers because of in the midst of the late hours of the night after stitching together the ripped remains of the clothing that the pups under your care would often tear with claws that protracted and retracted in the midst of their growing bodies.

 It is a futile attempt, for the sharp spikes that shoot through your digits inflict themselves in you anyway. Your attention is far too focused not on the article of clothing, but on the one who had worn it.

 You wonder what he might be doing right now and if he’s been thinking about you as profusely-or lewdly, mind you- as you have been about him, your wolf wanting to howl for him to beckon him back as you longingly caress the shredded trousers while you pine for the warmth of his skin and the radiance of his smile.

 Sometime later, there’s an abrupt series of knocks at your door and you smile as you fold your finished work and place it on the table next to your window seat before rising with anticipation that energetically bounds through you.

 It was time for you to be prepared and groomed so that you could be received by the alpha that no one yet knew had already staked his claim on you. Every omega went through this period before their Offering Ceremony to heighten the chances of finding them a suitable mate.

 The door opens and in leaps your best friend, Niva, who was mated last spring as she happily greets, “Y/N! Are you so excited? Your time is finally here, darling!”

 You laugh jovially at her energy as you easily question with mirth, “Good to see you, too, Niva. I am, very much so. Is it just going to be you that has the privilege of getting me ready?”

 She enfolds you in an all-encompassing embrace and you mirror the sentiment, for it is in omegean nature to be close-knit and seek the warm arms of the dynamic that is known for their nurturing, compassionate nature.

 You wrap your arms around her, but upon your best friend getting one whiff of the heavy pheromones soured by sex in every crevasse of the room, her nose wrinkles as her face twists, “Ew, Y/N, did you seriously already get bedded on the day of your ceremony? It stinks in here. Your grandmother is not going to take kindly to this. You’re supposed to be pure, remember?”

 You stand back with a smile lifting at your lips, “I know very well, Niva. Have you considered,” you lift a brow, “that perhaps I am still the virgin you always like to mess with me about being and maybe that there’s an alpha who might have given me his furs so that I could have some kind of relief in his absence?”

 Your best friend’s eyes widen in surprise, but that is soon replaced with a knowing glint of mischievousness in one eye as she takes in the visage of your disheveled appearance amidst the only article of clothing that is entirely too large in how it dwarfs your much smaller body as she queries, “Judging by the smell, whoever it is must be quite an alpha based on how strongly your room reeks of him. Judging by how that excuse for a shirt on you totally swallows you up, he must also be quite muscular and tall. Tell me,” she leans close, “has he touched you yet?”

 Your cheeks turn red as the memories flash like moving pictures through your mind in a tale recounting what had just happened and all that had occurred before and within the greenwood.

 You pull your lip between your teeth thoughtfully before you quietly admit, “In more ways than one, yes. Gods, has it been amazing, Niva. He is so…so attractively alluring in every way.”

 Your best friend holds you close as she watches the emotion color your irises and, seeing that in combination with the way your very voice had lilted with the sentiments, happiness dawns on her as she cards a hand through your hair to declare, “Then I will endeavor to make you irresistible to whoever this alpha is, darling. When I’m done with you, your alpha won’t know what hit him before it’s too late.”

 You blush when she calls in your other two omegean friends of whom carry a large assortment of oils, herbs and soaps before the three disappear into the lavatory through the adjoining antechamber in your boudoir to set to work on readying your bath.

 You busy yourself in the meantime with thoughts filled only with your alpha despite the cacophony of chatter echoing excitedly off of the walls, your attention drawn elsewhere and when Niva comes to retrieve you, that’s when you look away from the window that you’d been trying to squint through in effort to locate your alpha that still hunts for you within the greenwood.

 When you step into the copper basin that is much too large for your smaller body, the waiting waters wrap tenderly around your ailing body as the steam wafts around you in the heat of the fluid that births it. A long, drawn out breath leaves you as your tautened muscles loosen while your friends pour vial after vial of lavender, spruce and rosemary oil over you, the viscous solutions draping themselves over your skin to coax open your pores so that more of your pheromones are released to further attract prospective alphas with your scent.

 Niva takes care to drizzle you in pink salt sold out of the exotic Himalayas that she’d acquired from an especially friendly merchant after being told it had the power to make the skin glow with the might of a goddess. After that, she then spritzes the waters around you with roses, passion flowers and red clover blossoms that decorate the watery landscape around you until its canvas has been painted a magnificent magenta while you’re lathered in the herbal bath, a sigh of satisfaction falling from your lips before your best friend starts her work cleaning your hair.

 Usually, you would purr at the gentle glide of fingers over your scalp, but not today. Today, there’s only one pair of hands that you want on you and they are much too far away for your liking.

 Once the suds of soap have been rinsed from your hair, that’s when you’re left to bask in the warm water that had been drawn especially for you, for each omega has their own variation of scents that they prefer to bedeck themselves with for their Offering Ceremony in effort to lure more alphas through an amplified air of pheromones surrounding them.

 You ruminate on what Jungkook might do once he catches your naturally enhanced aroma that he’s already admitted to liking so much and, for good measure, your fingers find a floating rose and draw its soft petals over your shoulders before rubbing it along your neck.

 When the water has gone cold and you’ve been immensely imbued with the essences of nature, that’s when your friends return to retrieve you from the depths of the basin that you’ve sunken into through your calming contentment.

 Your hair is aired with oaken fans brought all the way from China before they twine and curl it around until it rests artfully in a braided bun along the crest of the back of your head, two twin strands nestled right in front of your ears to petitely frame your face.

 You really wish that you could focus on the gossip that falls freely as leaves from the trees this time of year as they labor over you, but you can’t. Not when your head swims with thoughts only of your alpha.

 Caught as you are in the tides of him that drag you along, you do not feel the bristles of a brush along your eyelids as Niva tips your head back to apply the powdery coloring that will accentuate your brilliant silver orbs before your best friend lines your lids with the blackened stick of kohl.

 Even when a light smattering of the dust of crushed rose petals is painted over your cheeks, you do not look into the mirror, for your eyes are trained on the sliver of sun that begins to wane through the rays that begin to reach backward toward their parent as your wolf bays in expectancy to receive its mate.

 Once Niva is done with her masterpiece, that’s when you’re made to stand and close your eyes before you’re walked over to the mirror that spans from the floor to the ceiling in the corner of your chambers as your other two friends produce the gown your grandmother had had made for you for this very day out of an ornately sealed box that had been left outside your door upon your return from the woods.

 You hear the clicks of the chest that signal its opening, excitement enthusiastically running amok within you when there are three collective gasps behind you as they stare in awe at your gown.

 It is lifted gingerly and delicately in its fragility and your friends help you into it slowly while slightly stiffened organza material skims your skin as it is pulled meticulously up and over your body. Once your arms have been lifted through the hollow holes and the pleated style sleeves rest atop your shoulders, that’s when the laces lining the back of the gown are pulled taut and the bodice constricts around you as you wince at the unyielding tightness that winds around your abdomen.

 Once the ties to your dress have been neatly crossed over each other in a complicated complexity that you will never see, that is the moment that you hear the distinguishing groan of aged wood being opened in the form of another box. The contents within that are unknown to you, but upon the cold, heavy material that encircles your neck, you can surmise that it is a choker meant to conceal the area so untouchable to all but the alpha whose mark you would eventually bear in its stead.

 Your best friend smiles fondly at her finished piece of artwork before stepping to the side to say, “Open your eyes, Y/N. It’s time for you to see how much the moon favors her most adored daughter.”

 You open your eyes in questioning, but before you can turn your attention to your friend, the image in the mirror captures it first as your breath catches at the sight it bestows to you, your jaw falling open in wonderment.

 Your skin all but glows under the gleam of sunlight that tries to tread over your radiance in its dimming dance as irises the color of moonlight piercingly stare back at you from under eyelids speckled with silver like the celestial body amidst the smudges of blended eyeshadow along the sides that beseech boldness in the color that matches the soils of the earth. It is set off by a cat-eye of kohl liner that is dappled thinly along the tips of your lids to demand attention in the way that it contrasts your irises. Even your lips have been streaked with the crimson of a rose to beckon beguilingly in the wish to be looked at.

 Embellishing your neck is a choker made entirely of moonstone that is set between chromium on each side. Its base rests just above your collarbones and, its thickness, it extends about two inches upward to hide away your sensitive scent glands as it covers your skin.

 Below that, though, that’s what really takes your breath away.

 Your gown looks to have been crafted from the threads of the moon’s core in the white of it that adorns your body in its entirety. Layers of gossamer-like fabric compose your dress and set carefully between it all are specks that shine like grayed moondust in the light that glimmers off of them.

 Your bodice is styled in a plunging ‘V’ that hugs your frame and is ceased only by the firm, fitted band that wraps around and hugs your middle well below your breastbone. Tied along its end is a very thin silver cord that twists into a knotted bow before your skirt loosely trails down and out, the train of it cascading like a sea behind and around you. Your arms are bare, but the sheerer and more translucent sleeves trickle over your shoulders and flow about to join the pool of fabric along your feet as you take a shaky breath.

 The woman that stares back at you is one that drips with the waters of clarity in the confidence that she exudes as she stands tall and proud. She is every bit the omega you were always meant to be as she holds her head high, her hands clasped along her front as she angles her head at you to study you and you have to close your parted maw as you stare wondrously back at her, wholly unable to move at the sight of the stranger that has your body in the mirror.

 When the familiar furs of your alpha are lowered over your shoulders, that’s when you look away, your irises finding Niva’s as she coos, “I don’t even think the ancient queen of the wolves could compare to you, darling. I really have outdone myself this time.”

 You stutter, completely in awe of yourself as you tell her, “N-Niva…this is… how did you-“

 Your best friend hushes you with a finger to her lips,” Shhh, that’s a secret, my dear. I cannot divulge my magics lest someone steal them away from me,” she teases as she puts both hands around your shoulders to encourage, “Look at yourself, my darling. You look positively radiant. Those alphas don’t stand a chance.’

 You think that maybe it is all just a trick of your senses and that it is just a hallucination, for you surely can’t actually appear the way that the girl in the mirror does, right?

 You find your visage once again on the mirror in an irrational need to confirm this only to widen your eyes at what greets you, for it is you that peers curiously back at yourself, your hand reaching out to run your fingers down the image of you that is set behind it.

 Your friends step back from you when your hand lowers and you turn to them with joyous tears that threaten to ruin all the work they labored so much from as they quickly fan the air around you in attempt to keep them trapped within your eyes as you laugh, your arms shooting out to welcome them all in a warm embrace that you are sure to thank them incessantly within.

 You enfold them in your arms until the sun’s rays strain to reach you, it’s descent into the night being announced with the raucously reverberating howl from the forest that has your blood singing in the familiarity that it is carried to you with.

 It finds your ears even here and you perk up, your wolf barking in need to go and wait for the alpha that every fiber of your being tells you is near as your best friend looks to you in understanding as she says, “Go on, Y/N. Don’t worry about us.  He’s waiting for you. Go to him.”

 You need no further coaxing as your feet move of their volition, your fingers closing around the mended trousers while you pull the furs your alpha had given to you tight around you, for it was tradition that omegas were not to expose skin before the Offering Ceremony and to be wrapped in an outer covering that preserved their purity until they were ready to shed it upon commencement of the event and acceptance of their alpha.

 The golden disk that once sat high in the sky now has dipped halfway below the horizon, but you need none of its light to locate the alpha that calls you forth as you tread tirelessly on until your nose brings you to the edge of the forest where an old trace of Jungkook still lingers.

 You crouch to leave his fixed clothing by the bark of one aged tree as you walk on, narrowing your eyes as you attempt to see beyond the long line of browned stalks that stretch on as far as the eye can see.

 Anticipation flaps with the fierceness of a black swan within you and when you hear the snap of a branch somewhere off to your left, you enter the thicket’s threshold without hesitation in your baser being’s need to relish in the warmth of your alpha.

 The stench of death thickly layers the air as you wrinkle your nose and as you find yourself standing before the broken limb of the tree, that’s when the dark silhouette of a figure steps out from behind it.

 The sun’s fading rays blind you to whoever you’ve found, but the voice that soon lathers itself all too heavily and viscously over your skin has your hair standing on end as it saccharinely presses, “Were you looking for someone? It’s okay, omega, you can tell me that you were trying to find me and profess your love to me. Everyone else does.”

 You roll your eyes at his vain vanity, “Actually, Taehyung, I was just trying to find my alpha who happens to be nearby and if he finds you here, he’s not going to take too kindly to that.”

 You turn away from the alpha, but Taehyung predatorily stalks after you and before you realize what’s happened, he’s in front of you to halt your movements, a twisted grin marring his features as he sniffs you, a tremor wracking his body as he does that has your blood running cold.

 “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, omega,” he tries to reach for you and you take a step back, not wanting his odor nor his filthy touch to stain you, “See, Jeon won’t be back for some time, sweet thing. He’s still on the mountain hauling back his kills that he’ll be too late to bargain for you with.”

 Your stomach drops to the recesses of your body as you try to move away from the alpha that hounds after you while your fingers tighten over the furs that cover you from his roving irises that roam all over you, your skin crawling everywhere that his attention slithers over.

 In the eyes that are glazed over from the onset of a rut, there is no care there. There is only gluttonous greed that bats away anything and everything that is not you.

 Your omega harks for you to submit under the alpha’s penetrating gaze, but you resist it as your own alpha’s voice traipses through your mind.

 “I will not tolerate anyone that attempts to take what is mine.”

 It is that thought that has you pushing past the instinct to yield to the alpha before you now as you shake your head, the surety set in your eyes amusing Taehyung as you spew its fires, “I would advise that you move away from me before you do something that you will regret. Your pack alpha has already made his claim on me and will not hesitate to punish you if you tarnish what belongs to him.”

 Your defiance has the alpha’s cock harden impossibly more amidst the divine incense you emit from freshly opened pores. No omega had dared to talk back to him before and it was inebriating.

 “Stars, you really are lust if it had a form, she-wolf,” the shadow convulses with dark laughter that has goosebumps growing along your skin as you back away, “Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You smell sweet as fuck, too…I wonder if you taste just as good.”

 Fear has your body begin to lock into place when your back nears the rough bark of a tree, “Do not do this, Taehyung. You will face wrath the likes of which you’ve never seen if you so much as lay a finger on me. I want nothing to do with you, do you understand?”

 A grin curls with malicious intent along its edges as he takes a step forward until he’s only inches away from you as he taunts, “Oh? You want nothing to do with me? Perhaps you shouldn’t be striding around smelling like temptation and sex in that little dress then, huh? You omegas always have a flair for driving us crazy when you present, but fuck, Y/N, no one holds a candle to you. I think,” his eyes glint dangerously when your back hits the thick trunk of the tree, ��that you should be claimed by a real alpha that can treat you better than Jeon ever could.”

 “Taehyung,” you try through a dry mouth,” Stop. I don’t want this. Jungkook is the one I wish to bear the mark of, not you.”

 Panic sets in and seeps icily across every vein when one hand comes to rest next to your head, his eyes burning a hole into your neck as he makes a sound of consideration, “Such a lucky happenstance that the pack alpha didn’t think to mark what was his if he didn’t wish for others to taint it.”

 The alpha nears and the ache between your knuckles warrants the incoming protraction of unguis, but before they can make their appearance, there’s a raged roar born entirely of aggression that threateningly thunders through the woodland. It is stormed by the fury that is set between the crackling of claws fulminating fiercely over the trunks of trees somewhere behind you.

 It takes only one inhale through your nostrils to know who has joined you, your heart pounding faster in response as your wolf cries for its mate while his scent thaws the ice within your body that Taehyung had foolishly frozen within it.

 “I thought I made myself clear to you, boy,”  the sound bleeds into a menacing snarl from behind you and Taehyung stops in his tracks, seized as he is by the overpowering command of the alpha ranked higher even than him as Jungkook’s brooding aura pierces him like an icicle in the coldness of the familiar voice,” She’s mine. I would advise you back the fuck away from my mate before I do much worse to you than break both of your arms the last time you felt it wise to try to fucking disobey me.”

 In the chill of the frigid air that has his beast wanting to tuck its tail between its legs, Taehyung tries to ignore it as he dissentingly jeers, “Is she yours? Unfortunate that I don’t see your mark on her then, pack alpha,” Taehyung sneers, his eyes still settled on yours, though your attention is far from him at this point as you stare longingly towards the origin of where nails scrape furiously into the skins of the trees as he dares to challenge, “You are not the only wolf that thirsts for a she-wolf as parching as this one, Jeon. I could get drunk off her scent alone and you expect me to just sit back and allow you to take such an appealing aperitif away from me? Sorry, but I want to taste her myself and there’s nothing that you can do to-“

 The rest of whatever the younger alpha had been wanting to say never makes it past the confines of his mouth, for there’s a blur of golden skin that flashes before you and suddenly, Taehyung has been launched several feet into the air only for his spine to collide into the back of an old, stocky evergreen tree.

 The bark screams against the contact in the deafening series of snaps as the foolish alpha is slammed so forcefully into it that, like an arrow, his body shoots cleanly through the aged integument as the oaken pillar that has been broken in half falls to the forest floor with a thud.

 Golden irises find you under their attention as your alpha steps from behind you, your blood warming at his heated touch when he grasps your chin between his fingers to assess you for damage before laying his forehead against your own as you reach out for him, the pads of your fingers lightly trailing tenderly along his jawline as you quietly whisper,” Alpha.”

 Jungkook nuzzles you protectively before he rumbles out, “My omega. Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

 He’s like a furnace in the way that his skin is calefied with the intensity of the sun and you purr when he nudges at your neck as your palm finds its place where his heart beats like a drum against you as you tell him, “No, Jungkook. With you around to keep me safe, he never got that far. He was about to, but you didn’t let him, my alpha.”

 Your alpha bristles at that, his irises dimming in light of your admission as he growls, “He nearly did. He would have if I hadn’t come when I did. I sensed your scent souring and it led me here. Had I been just a bit later, I nearly would have lost what was mine,” you watch in awe how his canines draw themselves out of his gums, captivated by the way that they lengthen and grow in size until they protrude out of his mouth in their large size that is much more massive than the average alpha as he pulls away from the nook in your neck to lay a callused palm along your jaw as he utters, “I need you to stay here for me, pretty. That fucking fool needs to be reminded of who is in charge here and I intend to jog his pitiful memory so that he never forgets it.”

 He draws away entirely too soon as you whimper in his absence and you, with your eyes magnetized only for him, observe with interest the way that he strides heavily and imposingly through the cluster of trees to bear down upon the collapsed body that is a mess of tangled limbs under the broken arm of the oak he’d been forcefully thrown against.

Your alpha’s hair falls wildly over his face and, in the waning light of the sun, his eyes bear down balefully over the younger alpha as he stands nude save for the mended article of clothing covering his lower half that you had dutifully brought for him. 

 Fury is palpable in the way that it looms like a shadow off of Jungkook, in the way that it clings to his every muscle when he snaps with glistening incisors at the downed alpha as he seethes, “It seems that you’ve lost sight of who is at the top of the food chain, boy,” Your alpha towers intimidatingly over Taehyung, who hisses at him, “The one on top gets the pick of the fucking litter and that, Taehyung, has never been you. I am your pack alpha and I am the only wolf that can command all of you alphas beneath me. It’s time that I discipline you to make you aware of that fact.”

 You hardly have time to process the popping sound of bones before your alpha has lodged five razor-edged, serrated claws deep into the recesses of Taehyung’s left shoulder as the younger alpha yowls out in pain that can be heard miles away in its dismal din.

 Your alpha marvels at the crimson fluid that stains him as the red tears of Taehyung’s wounds pool around your alpha’s digits only to trickle sadly downward until they are one with the earth.

 Jungkook snarls forbiddingly when Taehyung squirms underneath him to hound out, “What happened to that mouth you like to fucking flap all the time? Too scared now to use it, boy?” Your alpha leans forward with anger flashing in his eyes, “I would suggest that you don’t fuck with me again, little wolf. You’re going to get much more than the fucking claws next time should you be foolish enough to try.”

 Your alpha draws his other arm back, your eyes widening in the darkness that is settling its dark shroud over him.

 Before another set of claws can embed themselves within the younger alpha, you call for your own and through the cloak of negative emotion that has begun to suffocate him, your voice slips between it to caress the ire of his baser being.

 When your smaller fingers enclose around the wrist of his bloodied hand, you gently coax his claws out of Taehyung, who crumples atop of the brambles along the woodland with a thump as you press yourself to your alpha’s back to offer with a soft voice, “Come back to me now, alpha. Your mate does not wish to see you so wracked by your fury. You’ve made your point clear to both him and to me.”

 Jungkook inhales deeply only for his muscles to loosen while your sweet scent laces itself around him as he turns to utter, “My omega, it is because of my mate that I must resort to the animal within me,” You watch as the dark emotion recedes slowly from his irises as he imbibes you, entirely too parched of you for so long as an emotion you’ve yet to understand intensifies in its wake when he confesses, “I can hardly help that when you beckon me so, pretty.”

#werewolf!jungkook #werewolf jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook #bts #dom!jungkook #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts abo #alpha!jungkook #alpha jungkook #alpha omega bts #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook hot

[mangaien]

sc —  @theblckheir​

              “ no, it’s nothing..... i am listening.... “  just don’t foucus on it ,james. don’t scrach it. if you fucking do it you will not stop until you bleed. you just need to wait to in stag from  ———— then you can find a real nice tree to find and rub against… a nice tree with a loot of low branches oh oh maybe with some rough bark. ( even if he was listening at all before  ————  it was all forgotten when he got consumed in a yearning of trees. )

#theblckheir #here have james in antler shredding season being even more of a mess than he already is #: character / james . #: character / james . interactions . #: character / all . interactions . #i hope this is okay my dear <3

[spdy4]

Some Inscryption Card ideas I had.

Stonefish

Attack: 2

Health: 4

Cost: 2 Blood

Sigils: Waterborn / Made of Stone

"The reclusive Stonefish, its rocky facade is perfect for catching its prey off guard."

Dragonfly

Attack: 1

Health: 2

Cost: 1 blood

Sigils: Airborne/Sprinter

"The agile dragonfly is good at dodging its attackers, but is ultimately useless in a fight."

Mysterious Chick

Rare

Attack: 1

Health: 1

Cost: 7 bones

Sigils: Fledgling/Airborne

"This little creature has an amazing heritage, but it's too weak to fight, if you let it grow, you'll be rewarded."

⬇️

Thunderbird

Rare

Attack: 7

Health: 7

Cost: 7 bones

Sigils: Airborne/Stormbringer (A card bearing this sigil will strike a random spot on tbe opposing side twice.)

Wendigo

Rare

Attack: 5

Health: 4

Cost: 4 blood

Sigils: Corpse Eater/Touch of Death

"The accursed Wendigo, once man, but now cursed with insatiable hunger, it will kill anything that crosses its path."

Stallion

Attack: 5

Health: 4

Cost: 3 bones

Sigils: Rampager/Bifurcated Strike

"The noble stallion, swift yet, strong. This creature will deliver powerful kicks with its hooves."

Crab

Attack: 3

Health: 4

Cost: 2 blood

Sigils: Waterborne/Bifurcated Strike

"The humble Crab, its pincers are strong and its hard carapace is good for defense."

Jackalope

Rare

Attack: 2

Health: 4

Cost: None

Sigils: Fecundity/Sharp Quills

"The Jackalope, its small body and magnificent antlers make it a sight to behold."

Ahuizotl

Rare

Attack: 6

Health: 4

Cost: 4 blood

Sigils: Waterborne/Drowning (A card bearing this sigil forces the opposing card to become submerged during the opponent's turn.)

"The mighty Ahuizotl, Guardian of the lake, it draws its pray to the water to drag it down to the depths."

Yellowjacket

Attack: 3

Health: 2

Cost: 1 blood

Sigil: Airborne/Sharp Quills

"The ferocious Yellowjacket, its aggressive behavior is well known, and it stings are never ending."

Chupacabra

Rare

Attack: 4

Health: 5

Cost: 3 blood

Sigil: Blood Guzzler (A card bearing this sigil upon dealing damage will regain 1 health)

"The fearsome Chupacabra, it feeds on the blood of its opponents to heal its wounds."

Millipede

Attack: 1

Health: 4

Cost: 1 bone

Sigil: Burrower

"A Millipede, its many legs can move earth with the greatest of ease."

Bobcat

Attack: 3

Health: 5

Cost: 2 blood

Sigils: Mighty Leap/Sprinter

"The tenacious Bobcat, despite is small stature, its an effective predator, and swift."

Wolverine

Attack: 5

Health: 3

Cost: 4 bones

Sigils: Steel Trap

"The fearsome Wolverine, its jaws can break bone, and rip its foes to shreds."

Condor

Attack: 6

Health: 6

Cost: 8 bones

Sigils: Corpse Eater/Airborne

"The mighty Condor, ruler of the skies and devourer of death."

Bald Eagle

Attack: 7

Health: 6

Cost: 10 bones

Sigils: Waterborne/Airborne

"The proud Bald Eagle, its talons can catch its prey easily".

Let me know what you think of these ideas? Which card would you want?

#spdy4 #cool #Inscryption #cards #card ideas #my thoughts #Leshy #fan concepts

[lifeofkaze]

A Christmas Moral - Respect

Find all lessons to be learned from this small Christmas series here, the previous moral here, and the next one here. Wishing you a magical second Sunday of Advent 🕯️🕯️

3 Weeks until Christmas

The Three Broomsticks was filled to the brim with a larger than usual evening crowd, and it was easy to see why.

Outside, the usually bustling main street of Hogsmeade was clogged with heaps of snow, piling up almost to the windowsills of the houses lining the street and people were drawn inside, flocking to the warm fireplace of The Three Broomsticks. Chestnuts were roasting above the open fire, filling the main room with their warm, nutty smell.

While her patrons sat and relaxed from their preparations for the Christmas celebrations in three weeks, Madam Rosmerta was busier than ever. She was hosting the small choir of Hogsmeade village tonight; usually they would walk around the village carolling, but the masses of snow made the streets narrow and difficult to walk through, so they had asked her if they could sing in her pub instead.

Madam Rosmerta had agreed, of course, and she was now pouring tankard after tankard of butterbeer while humming along to the festive music. She had just filled another tray with the foamy, sweet drinks when she noticed a very small figure sitting at the end of the counter, all by themselves.

She was surprised to see it was Filius Flitwick, the tiny but endlessly friendly professor teaching Charms up at Hogwarts. He was also the conductor of the Frog Choir, Hogwarts’ school choir consisting of students and their toads, and Madam Rosmerta expected him to be swaying to the carols sung by the choir.

He did nothing of the sort, however; instead, he had both his small hands wrapped around his glass with charmed cherry soda, and was looking sadder than any person had any right to this close to Christmas.

It wasn’t like Professor Flitwick to look this crestfallen, so Madam Rosmerta set her tray with butterbeer down again, poured a fresh one for herself, and walked over to where Flitwick was sitting.

“I’m surprised to see you here tonight,” she said and leaned against the counter with a smile.

Professor Flitwick had been lost in thought and jumped at Madam Rosmerta’s words; a little of his bright red soda spilled over his hands and he wiped them on the sleeve of his robes absentmindedly.

“Why would you be surprised to see me?” he said and looked at her thoughtfully. “I came to listen to the choir.”

Madam Rosmerta glanced over to the fireplace, where the choir had just started their next song beneath the tinsel-decorated antlers of Derek the Deerhead.

“Don’t you have your own choir rehearsals today?”

Professor Flitwick looked genuinely surprised. “Yes, in fact, I do. How do you know?”

“Many of your colleagues come here, but this time of the week you’re never among them. And also, Hagrid told me,” Madam Rosmerta added and smirked into her butterbeer.

Professor Flitwick returned her smile, albeit halfheartedly. “You’re correct, my dear Rosmerta, I should be up at the castle this very moment singing merry songs.”

His face fell and he hung his head. “But all we seem to be singing lately is the blues.”

“Talk to the barmaid,” Madam Rosmerta said and leaned in a little so Professor Flitwick would hear her better over the music. “listening to our favourite patrons’ problems, it’s what we do.”

Professor Flitwick looked at her for a second and then sighed.

“There's only three weeks left until Christmas. The Frog Choir traditionally gives a concert before the students leave for their Christmas break, and we should be rehearsing day and night at this point. But today, I’m afraid, I have been forced to call our rehearsal off. There is too much fighting going on between the students, and if we continue like this there won’t be a shred of Christmas spirit left to share once the concert arrives.”

Madam Rosmerta raised her eyebrows. “Your students are fighting? Why?”

“I wanted to include them in setting up our concert this year,” Professor Flitwick explained, “to give them some real input to get them excited. I told them to pick a song they would like to sing and we’d work out the presentation all together.”

“What a lovely idea,” Madam Rosmerta said with a warm voice. “That was a very considerate thing to do.”

Professor Flitwick, however, shook his head vehemently.

“Only in theory, I’m afraid,” he sighed. “Two of my lead singers couldn’t agree on which song to pick. Both of their choices are lovely, as are they. They come from different backgrounds and have their own wonderful ways of celebrating the festive season, and now they’ve been fighting for weeks. It’s tearing our beautiful choir apart, and now they want me to choose between the two of them.”

“But how could I?” he suddenly cried out. “It was important to teach the students an appreciation for other cultures. We could all use a lesson on working together from time to time, especially at such a pivotal time of the year as this. But now all comes crumbling down. Unity shouldn’t feel like an impossible lesson to teach. It was a really bad idea.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea at all,” Madam Rosmerta objected, “it maybe just lacked in execution. You’re absolutely right, all kinds of traditions should be honoured. They all have their place and people who hold them dear, and your concert should represent that. There are so many beautiful songs to sing out there. My favourite has always been the Carol of the Bells.”

“A classic,” Professor Flitwick nodded. “Why this particular song, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Madam Rosmerta shrugged and pointed at the garlands strung around the dark rafters of her pub. The dark evergreens were covered in tiny golden and silver bells which were gleaming in the light coming from the fire.

“I just like bells, I guess.”

Her laconic remark coaxed a small chuckle from Professor Flitwick.

“You know what I think?” Madam Rosmerta continued and rested her forearms on the countertop. “I think Christmas is about coming together, no matter who we are, or where we are from. It’s easy to forget about this over all the hectic and stress.”

Professor Flitwick nodded again and Rosmerta clapped her hands together as if an idea had struck her just now, instead of it being in her head for most of their conversation already.

“How about this,” she said, “you go and take your choir here. You’ve worked so hard on your performance, you deserve some time off. All of you,” she added as Professor Flitwick opened his mouth to say something.

“You come here, enjoy some warm butterbeers and listen to music instead of making it. What you need is some good old time together and some new inspiration and all will fall into place, you’ll see. You won’t know what hit you before you’ll have figured out how to make everyone happy.”

Professor Flitwick thought about her offer for a moment.

“How will that help me decide between the two songs, though?” he asked eventually. “They’d both be fantastic contributions.”

“Why not do both then?”

“There is no space in the program for an additional song.”

“You are the conductor,” Madam Rosmerta shrugged, “you can kick something else out any time.”

Professor Flitwick looked aghast at the thought. “I can’t kick Celestina out of the program! What kind of Christmas concert would that be?”

“One where we honour all the ones who want to do their part,” Rosmerta said gently. “Celestina Warbeck’s songs get played more often during Christmas than I serve butterbeer, and that’s a whole lot of butterbeer we’re talking about. We can do a year without her, don’t you think?”

Professor Flitwick was listening to her intently, nodding along to her words. His face lightened and a smile spread on his features as he hit his fist into his open palm with renewed vigour.

“You are absolutely right, my dear Rosmerta, absolutely right. I completely lost sight of what truly matters.”

He left his unfinished cherry soda standing and hopped off the barstool, vanishing from Madam Rosmerta’s sight for a moment. A second later she could see him again, making his way toward the exit of The Three Broomsticks.

“Where are you going?” she called after him.

Professor Flitwick turned around and waved at her while shrugging into his coat.

“Back to the castle! It’s time to save a show!”

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Madam Rosmerta watched as the heavy door leading outside fell shut behind him. Smiling to herself, she carried their two glasses back to the sink and grabbed some new ones to fill with fresh butterbeer, humming along to the music under her breath.

#harry potter fanfiction #hphm #hogwarts mystery #christmas #madam rosmerta #filius flitwick #a christmas moral

[darling-i-read-it]

Amuse-Bouche

1x02

Will Graham x reader, eventual Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, blood, gory murder talk 

Author’s Note: I’m really enjoying writing for this and all the feedback I’m getting is really boosting my happiness that you guys like it. It takes sooooo long but honestly? Worth it. I’m already excited for episode 3. Actually I’m already thinking about season 3 but that’s beside the point. 

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar.

Official Episode Summary : Will Graham helps Jack Crawford search for a killer who buries his victims alive to grow mushrooms; Will, starting to trust Hannibal, opens up about killing Hobbs; Freddie Lounds lurks around the investigation.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif) 

Jack looked over the antlers all over the room. It was a sight. If anything screamed obsession it was the room he was in right now. Will kneeled beside one of them, looking over the bloodied and dripping antlers across the wall.

“What if Hobbs wasn’t eating alone?” Jack asked. His voice was distant and the tone inferred that he already knew the answer to his question. Will looked over at him and shrugged. The implication wasn’t jarring. Will had briefly thought of it as well. “A lot of work. Disappearing these girls, butchering them and then worse. All without leaving a shred of anything outside of this room.”

“Someone he hunted with?” Will suggested. His mind was wandering at the dream he had earlier about Garrett Jacob Hobbs. He was sure to have more dreams like it in the future however this time he didn’t wake up with you beside him. It was an odd feeling, expecting the comfort he didn’t get because he was napping in the car.

“Or someone in a coma. Who happens to also be someone he hunted with,” Jack led. Will closed his eyes and at the back of his eyelids he could see Abigail in her hospital bed, asleep. His heart ached for her or perhaps just the fact that he had left her orphaned. He had been stuck in conflict for a long while and the recent events didn’t help him in the slightest. He tried not to think of her frail and broken body that no longer had a home to return to. The implication that Abigail was being looked at as a killer made his stomach churn.

“Abigail Hobbs is a suspect?” He wanted to make a comment about how Jack just wanted blood. He wanted someone locked up for these girls' deaths. Will had already given him blood. What more could he possibly ask for?

“We've been conducting house-to house interviews around the Hobbs residence and this property.”

“What’s the gossip?” Will had already practically disregarded Jack's words before they even left his mouth.

“Hobbs and his daughter spent a lot of time together. They spent a lot of time together here. She would be the ideal bait, wouldn't she?” Will stood up. His voice remained far away and uninterested.

“Hobbs killed alone.”

Jack shook his head but didn’t say anything more on the subject. He looked over at Will and pursed his lips. Will could feel his gaze, always watching and inquiring.

“What?” Will asked.

“I’m surprised that Y/N let you out here,” he said simply. Will let out a dry laugh.

“She tried to tie me to the bed and go to work. I told her I was going with you and she almost got a shotgun that we don’t own.”

“So I’ll be hearing from her?” Will was comforted with his answer before it left his mouth.

“Likely so.”

-

The door opened and Hannibal's last client of the day left. Hannibal said something you didn’t care to hear and once the door shut behind the client you looked up from your computer. Hannibal walked over to your small reception desk and you looked up at him.

“How is Will?” he asked. The sheer subject made your blood boil. You came into work to keep your mind off of Will. You couldn’t fault Hannibal for being curious but your emotions came nonetheless. You were still reeling about the death of Hobbs and the coma induced daughter that Will pretended he wasn’t obsessed with.

You couldn’t shake that Hannibal had been there and done nothing to stop it.

“Not great.”

“Jack Crawford has contacted me about doing a psychological evaluation on him.” You raised an eyebrow. It was odd thinking about Will talking to Hannibal so intimately. Your work life and home life were so separated that having them meld together seemed unnecessary. You knew Hannibal was a good therapist and you genuinely believed that, despite your reserves. You just weren’t sure if you wanted Will in on the anomaly that was Hannibal Lecter. Not to even brush upon the anomaly that was Will Graham.

“Is that so?”

“Do you think he’ll be interested?”

“If he has to be. He doesn’t think any form of therapy works on him,” you said. Hannibal nodded, noting that in the back of his mind.

“I’ve had a time allotted for him tomorrow, if you could write it down.”

“I’ll connect the payment to my credit card so you can send the cost there,” you said but Hannibal shook his head.

“The first one will be a courtesy.”

“You don’t do courtesy.” Hannibal gave you a thin, knowing smile that left you ill at ease.

“You haven’t been here that long.”

-

The next day you took Will to his session with Hannibal. You tried not to show any reservation about the situation, for his sake. You assured him that you worked for the man and trusted him, in some capacity.

After the session you took some time out of your day to drive Will to the shooting range where evidently he was still thinking about Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

“How are you?” you asked. He let out a sigh and adjusted his glasses. You were driving so he was able to look over at you and study your face.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. You nodded. You had expected the answer but it wasn’t any easier to hear.

“But the session went okay?” you questioned. You were curious about it. You would never force him to tell you but you had never actually been in session with Hannibal. You had only heard the legends.

Will shrugged.

“It’s alright. Helps Jack sleep at night.” You scoffed.

“You shouldn’t be worried about what that man says or how he sleeps,” you said, voice bitter.

“What, you don’t like him?” Will asked dryly, laughing. You nodded and glanced over at him as you pulled into the shooting range.

“I don’t. I don’t trust his motives.” You parked the car.

“And you trust Hannibals?” You were taken aback by the question. You should have known that Will would pick up on whatever it was Hannibal was giving off. You didn’t want to feed it though, not until either of you had something credible.

“I trust how much he intrigues me,” you said. Will nodded.

“That sounds about right.” He opened the car door and got out. He walked over to the door then stopped, turning around and walking back to you. He leaned over your opened window and kissed you.

You smiled, letting the day go away and hope that he didn’t shoot anybody in the range.

“I love you,” he said.

He was gone again before you could say it back.

-

The following day you drove Will back to Hannibal’s. You had to go too anyway. Will teetered back and forth in the passenger seat and you looked over at him, trying to think about what he was thinking about.

“Dead bodies,” he muttered.

“I didn’t ask anything.”

“You were wondering what I was thinking about,” he said.

“Stop reading my mind. It’s weird.”

“I can’t help it, I know you too well,” he said. You glanced over at him and pulled into Hannibal’s office. You got out of the car together.

“Now we’re both thinking about dead bodies,” you said as you walked in together. You were both lingering on the murder that Hannibal had signed off on Will going to see. It was a bad one, mushrooms or something. You got information from the papers, from Will’s broken words, from Hannibal’s observations. The puzzle pieces made a picture you couldn’t imagine seeing in front of your eyes.

Hannibal was inside waiting.

“You let him back out there?” you asked, immediately. Hannibal’s face didn’t even move.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Will said. “But I will say that I am in somewhat of an agreement.” Hannibal shrugged. “It may have been premature.”

“They’ll revoke my rubber stamp.”

“Maybe they should.”

You didn’t want him to go behind the door you couldn’t follow. You couldn’t protect him there. You were out here, cut off from the conversation, unsure of the influence being projected. Despite your worry, the two of them disappeared into the office. You walked back to your desk and let out a sigh, still annoyed at everyone who was allowing Will to mentally injure himself like he was.

The fear plagued your mind. You knew Will’s ability to keep himself sane was a thin line. You could never truly tell when he was about to fall off the deep end. It scared you.

You were going to get work done when your phone rang. It was a musty day in the office and your shirt clinged to you. You picked up your own personal phone, as opposed to the one for calling for an appointment.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” The voice belonged to Alana Bloom. You knew each other decently well, only because she was so curious how you managed to lead a life with Will so successfully. You stood up and walked into one of the back rooms of the office to take the call.

“Are you calling me about how terrible Jack is to Will?” you asked with the intention of joking but it came out too dry. She laughed and you leaned against the wall. You put your head back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I was just checking in on the two of you. He is sleeping?”

“Not last night no. But we’re trying,” you said. “In all honesty, I think this is bad for him. I hope that Hannibal is able to help out wherever he can.” Your voice had a vulnerability that you hadn’t expected. Alana hummed.

“I’ve been watching Jack on this side. I hope Hannibal can help too.”

“Do you think it’s necessary he’s out there?” She was silent for a moment. You knew the answer you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen those people. I haven’t talked to their families.”

“Have you talked to Abigail Hobbs?” Her presence remained elusive to you.

“No, not yet. But I intend to when she wakes up. He saved her life.”

“He took one in order to save hers.” You went to bed with a murderer every night. His hands had dealt the last breath of a man. The man deserved it but the feeling was hard to shake. If it was hard for you, you couldn’t imagine how it was for Will. “I don’t know if he can come back from that.”

The door opened and you peaked your head into the main office, where you were supposed to be working. A woman with curly red hair stood at the door.

“I have to go Alana, I’ll call you later.” You hung up before she could answer and walked into the room. You knew that Hannibal had a patient soon, after Will. She had been a pain on the phone, wanting no other time but this. Something Kimball. She was leaning against the door and something was in her hand.

“Excuse me?” you called. She turned around, quickly taking off some headphones.

“Sorry! I’m early. Just listening to some music,” she said with the best fake smile you had ever seen on someone who wasn’t Will Graham. You nodded, knowing she was lying.

“You can have a seat over here,” you said, gesturing to the couch. She nodded and followed your direction. She looked over you in the same way Jack Crawford did. Like you were being observed, as though you were under a microscope.

“You’re Will Graham's girlfriend aren’t you?” she said. A journalist, you thought. Clearly. She wasn’t very good at hiding it.

“Yeah,” was all you answered.

“What’s that like?”

“I really have to get some work done.” She nodded and receded back into herself, even as her gaze lingered. You both waited in silence until the door opened and Will exited through a separate room. Hannibal came back through the door near you and you gave him a look. The girl stood up and he gestured for her to come inside. She passed him into his office.

You walked over and grabbed his arm.

“She’s a journalist,” you mumbled. He looked over at her and nodded in agreement.

“Thank you.”

He shut the door.

-

Will took the car home. Hannibal offered he would drive you home, not wanting to inconvenience Will.

You got into the car with him and felt at ease. You had been doing this a few times and it had always been a pleasant experience. There was light classical music playing over the stereo and the whole vibe felt very peaceful.

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” you asked, trying to make small talk.

“I’m making a pork loin. Jack Crawford is coming over for dinner to discuss Will.” Your eyes went wide.

“I know it’s extremely rude but may I inconvenience you to pop in? I can call Will to pick me up but I really wanna give Jack a good talking to.” Hannibal chuckled. He enjoyed seeing this side of you. He had never known you to be fiercely protective but liked the way your teeth seethed like a wild animals when Jack Crawford was brought up.

“That would be wonderful. The more the merrier.”

-

You called Will to let him know where you were. He had some quips about you speaking alone with Jack, he was unable to stop what was already in motion. He told you to be safe and refrain from touching any sharp objects when you were angry.

Hannibal had set the table by the time Jack entered. You seated yourself as you heard the conversation floating from the front door. Jack’s voice set you on edge. You stared at the silverware before you. Hannibal walked in first. He was wearing a gray, almost dark blue, suit. He looked handsome. In the moment he was your ally, which made your heart warm at the sight of him.

When Jack walked in his eyes went wide seeing you at the table, just beside Hannibal's spot. You smiled. You were sure he could sense the ferocity behind it. You had your hand around a wine glass that was half drunk. Hannibal gestured for him to sit. He made a point to sit on the other side of Hannibal where you would be less likely to slit his throat.

“I hope you don’t mind, I overbooked dinner,” Hannibal joked. Jack shook his head, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

“Sometimes work comes home with you. I can understand that.” The mere insinuation that Hannibal had brought you home for nefarious purposes made you even more angry. The knife was looking all too good .”I don’t imagine you’re quite happy with me,” Jack said. You shook your head, cutting into the meat and taking an angry bite.

“I’m here to eat. Hannibal cooks an amazing dish and it’s always something I’ve never heard of.,” you said. Your voice was floating. The threat wasn’t overt but it filled the room regardless.

“Thank you,” Hannibal chimed in pleasantly. He had always liked dinner and a show.

“I’m also here to tell you that Will became a teacher because he couldn’t pull the trigger in hard situations.” You had lost all fake sincerity in your voice. “He’s worked with you for one week and he’s killed a man. He has nightmares, he’s seeing a therapist, he brought home another goddamn dog.” Jack opened his mouth. Your stare shut it. “Will is now a murderer because of you.”

“It was necessary,” Hannibal said. You held up your fork. The sudden movement startled Jack, though he didn’t show it.

“Hannibal.” He nodded. He cut at his food. “If he breaks under you, I’ll be very unhappy,” you said, eyes back on your target. Jack nodded, nervously swallowing a bite of loin.

“Understood.”

You ate another bite, eyes locked with Jack, just in case he hadn’t gotten it through his head quite yet. You would sit here and have a whole dinner with them if you had to, just for him to realize what he was dealing with.

-

You were sitting behind your desk when Hannibal called you into the office. You were already on edge. Will was at work, trying to catch a killer. You walked into the room and Hannibal gestured to his tablet that had a newspaper article on the screen.

“What is it?” you questioned. Hannibal handed it over and you looked over it. You didn’t have to read more than the headline. “Takes One to Know One,” you muttered in disgust. He shook his head and pointed at the picture of the author on the side. Familiar red hair. Her name was really Freddie Lounds, the journalist you clocked earlier in the week. The sight of her made you seeth. You briefly wondered if you should take some anger counseling. “I should have punched her when I had the chance.”

“I would have had to fire you.”

“You wouldn’t have.” You looked up and met his eyes. He was already dismissing you.

“Go to him. Call me later.” You handed it back to him.

“Thank you Hannibal.”

-

You drove to the hospital because that was where you knew he would be. You called Jack on the drive in.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Are you on your way to ruin her career?” you asked. He snorted.

“Since when are you on my side?”

“I’m on Will’s side. And Hannibal’s depending on the situation.”

“Don’t worry about her anymore.” Unbeknownst to you he was just outside her door, ready to threaten to charge her with obstruction of justice if she didn’t comply. You hung up the phone but you didn’t feel any better. The hospital was daunting and the situation inside was more so. When had your life become so quickly off the rails? Why were you calling Jack Crawford on the regular, making threats that could likely send you to jail?

You got out of your car and walked up to Abigail Hobbs' room.

When you got there you saw Alana, reading quietly. Will was asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over him. You acknowledged each other with a nod of the head as you walked over to Will. You ran a hand through his hair and he woke up enough to see you and grab your leg with his arm. You sat down beside him, his head resting on your leg but now awake.

You were vaguely glad to have Alana there. She would mention the topic and you could be there as a buffer, rather than an antagonizer.

“I'm about to broach the subject of that "Takes One to Know One" article,” Alana said, putting the book she was reading down.

“I’m apparently Jack Crawford's crime gimp,” Will muttered groggily. He sat up now, realizing Alana was in the room.

“I can’t believe she wrote that,” Alana said.

“I can’t believe Y/N isn’t actively murdering her as we speak,” Will joked. It clearly hadn’t phased him as much as you anticipated. You and Alana laughed but your hearts weren’t in it

“I thought about it,” you assured him. “Jack promised he would handle it.”

“I heard you handled Jack,” Alana said. You shrugged.

“Some help from Hannibal.”

The conversation floated along, following avenues you only half understood. Eventually Alana had to go and you and Will were standing, mumbling something about coffee. Your voices were quiet and finally calm before Will got a call. He listened for a moment and you watched his expression as it felt. He put his hand on your arm and shoved his phone in his pocket, replacing it with a gun. You were amazed they let him keep it. You were amazed you hadn’t noticed it before.

“What is-” you started but he cut you off.

“Stay here.”

He was gone after that, running back to Abigail's room. Then he was gone, running out of the room and yelling at a receptionist. You followed him, despite his warnings.

You were just behind him as he stood in front of a man, presumably the killer of the week. Will had his gun pointed at the man and he looked up at you at the end of the hall. Following you was security and they quickly apprehended the man as Will showed identification.

It all happened so fast. One second you were fine and then Will was pointing a gun at someone again. How often would he be doing that? Would he get used to it? The thought was daunting and worrisome.

You rushed up to him.

“What-”

“Don’t ask.” You nodded. People moved around you, apprehending a man whose story you only half knew. You watched, security rushing past you as you stood firmly beside Will. He turned back to you, chests flushed.

“I’m just glad you have a check in with Hannibal tomorrow,” you whispered. He chuckled.

“You know what? Me too.”

1x03

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal imagines

[the-ghoulish-write]

~ ERA FOUR GHOULS ~

The Crazy Seven...

are a few of the only ghouls who can properly unleash their power.  Although they are still quite unstable when Unleashed, they have been successfully harnessed in the past.  It’s quite the miracle that these seven ghouls have somehow been able to survive together.  If Dewdrop isn’t picking a fight with someone else in the group, then there’s something going on with Copia’s drama.  Let’s just say, they’re all a little over it.

[Pictured is an early draft of the Era Four ghouls, my first Ghost fanart]

MANIFESTATION ORDER FOR COPIA’S GHOULS:

(1) Mountain

Tallest boy

His horns and tail naturally produce moss and lichen.  With any excess moss from his tail, he will create moss balls specifically to give to Rain’s pet fish.

He learned from Era One’s Malachite to always wish good luck on things.  Mountain will hand out smooth rocks to the members of his band before they go out for a ritual.

Isn’t fond of reptiles, he absolutely hates snakes (thanks to Papa II’s pet snake, Jewel)

One Christmas, he gave everyone a small pouch of gemstones and cool rocks that he found.  He knows that each one of them still has it.

His main set of horns are the most antler-like of any of the Earths, with his antlers actually shedding much more often than either Moss’s or Malachite’s.

If he ever goes Unleashed, he can only create new life.  He is too kind-hearted to use his power to destroy or wither things away, so he only knows how to make things overgrow.

He’s the one most likely to break up a fight

(2) Swiss

Jack of All Trades

Could probably turn into a gun if he wanted to

Bonk, go to horny jail

Liable to stab someone with his tail, maybe Copia, probably Terzo, Nihil, or Dewdrop

Has the power of weapon manifestation, AKA he can make whatever weapon is wanted

Classified as an “Earth Ghoul,” but is a “Gold-Infused Ghoul.”  Swiss is the first Gold-Infused to successfully manifest without dying quickly after, which is a big step.

Due to being Gold-Infused, Swiss has a strange amount of power, much more than what would be expected of a ghoul his size

Literally just flexes about being gold-infused with the amount of gold jewelry he wears

His weapon manifestation can go berserk when he goes Unleashed, which can greatly damage him.  He can manifest as many blades as he wishes from his body.

(3) Aether

He thinks that him and Dewdrop are best friends, even though Dewdrop actually tries to fight him 24/7

Very dense, like, too dense to understand that Dew’s basically bullying him

Has a small cat named Nebula;  He adores her very much

If anyone here was the golden retriever, it’s Aether

When Unleashed, he can effectively open a black hole;  his body changes from its shadowy form to being speckled with white flecks like a night sky

Aether’s powers are not properly sealed, a bi-product of a strange manifestation, meaning that he can go Unleashed much easier than other ghouls

(4) Cirrus

Probably has a secret PhD or something

Super smart

Absolutely loves animals; she knows each rat in the monastery by name

Birds are her favorite animals

Mountain and her are best friends

She’s also Cumulus’s best friend, yet they seem more like sisters or even soul mates

Will watch Dew try to tear Aether or Swiss to shreds instead of doing anything about it

Can kick the shit out of anyone

If Unleashed, she will create an absolute windstorm.  She can’t make any true devastation though if she lacks the assistance of a water or fire ghoul

(5) Cumulus

She always poses for pictures, no matter the circumstance

Has made friendship bracelets for everyone (Yes, everyone wears them)

the type to look directly into the camera right after being told not to look directly into the camera

Shy, but super chatty

Absolutely loves to sing

She is so scared of going Unleashed because her singing amplifies, which can harm people

(6) Dewdrop

Gremlin

Eats crayons and paste

Has gotten his ass beaten by Rain because he ate Rain’s crayons

If he can grab it, he’s gonna throw it

Will show every single person his very pointy teeth just because he thinks they look cool

Is the definition of shaking a soda can then opening it

Angry dumbass

Was taught how to focus his fire by Era Three’s Alpha

Unleashed, his body becomes a vessel to hell flame, yet his body can’t easily control it.  If he stays Unleased for too long, it can force him into a comatose state

(7) Rain

Baby boy

Everyone is ready to die for him

He absolutely loves to draw in his free time between rituals

Has a terrarium that has succulents in it; a newt lives there as well

His pet fish are his pride and joy, he will draw them all the time

He owns a few basses that just have some of his doodles on it

Very long tail, much longer than the other Fours

He’s constantly getting stuck in the shenanigans and tom-foolery of the other ghouls, which can result in him getting in trouble

All of the water ghouls absolutely adore him

This boy somehow managed to win the hearts of Terzo and Secondo

- ERA FOUR IDENTIFIERS -

Each of their outfits has their elemental symbol sewn into the right-side of the collar.  Only Swiss has a slightly different collar, with the collar being gold instead of the usual black or gray.

The Fours also have their coloration radiating off of their hands.  From their fingers down to about their wrists, their hands are encapsulated by their elemental color

Two sets of horns (or one set and a single horn) are present in the Fours.  The main set is the dominant set of horns, where most of their power is derived.  The second set is like a power back-up in case anything happens to their main set.  This second set is usually completely colored instead of having a light or dark hue at all.

These ghouls are some of the more formally dressed, yet they seem more casual formal.

Their ears still contain ear fluffs, similar to the Threes.

They do not hide their tails in any circumstance

--- (5/5) ---

[Era 0] ; [Era 1] ; [Era 2] ; [Era 3] ; [Era 4]

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls fanart #fanart #headcanon #aether ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ember ghoul #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #mountain ghoul #cirrus ghoul #cumulus ghoul #prequelle era #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #dom's ghoulish doodles #dom's ghoulish headcanons #prequelle #era four ghouls

[braveswine]

                                      𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 : stag form. 

   james as an animagus is a red deer, specifically the scottish red deer.  james fur was the same brown that looked red-ish in the sun that was in his eyes. if he when he was able to grow a facial hair  forgot to shave his face it would make the his mane as a stag bigger. although this didn’t happen a lot

   as stag james was huge, his shoulder height of 150 cm /  4'11 inches and reached 200 cm / 6′7  over all. his antlers were at the widest part a 70 cm /  2′3. due to his size it was him mainly who had the power to stop remus when something went wrong.

  james was deeply upset when he first realised the embodiment of him was a stag. wanting something more strong. closer to what he imagine his father would have, such as a lion for example.  it wasn’t until 6 th year when james became comfortable with the idea of being the stag.   although james always felt more comfortable as a stag then in his human form. even when he hated it since it wasn’t what he wanted it to be, it just fit. when he felt his mind over take him it was something he did to calm himself or at least just take a break.  honestly if he only cared about himself ( he probably wouldn’t have the embodiment of a stag but shhh) he could have stayed in the from of the stag for the rest of his life.

 also an important note is that james shreds his antlers once every year like normal stags does as well. this antler shredding happens during late winter and he grows back new ones during the spring. all this actually affects him in human form as well and during both stages   it makes his head itch like crazy.

#: james / headcanons . #this was not copied and pasted from an other blog of mind pffft

[wishingupontheskyandstars]

Our Secret This Holiday ❄️ Chp. 4

Summary: As the Holidays approach, Arya and Gendry are a new couple spending a lot of time together before they reveal to everyone else that they are dating and what better day to reveal that than on Christmas…

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | AO3 Link Here | Rated M

Chapter 4: Ugly Sweaters 

The Holiday party was in full swing with modern and classic holiday songs playing in the background. Guests, dressed in themed sweaters, continued to catch Arya’s eye. Some were the ugliest sweaters she had ever seen. She scrunched her nose at someone wearing a bright red sweater with wavy lined gold tinsel and real lights scattered around, sparkling white, green, and blue.

A variety of Christmas lights shined brightly throughout, along with the decorative tree, hanging stockings, beautiful wreaths, and charming gingerbread houses delicately placed on the fireplace mantel. It was a wonder to Arya, with all the decorations, how over thirty guests were able to fit in both the Condo's living room and kitchen.

"Arya, Daenerys told me your last semester is coming up. How are you holding up?" Missandei, Daenerys' co-worker at the law firm, asked.

Arya looked away from the decorations once she heard her name. She felt Gendry's hand placed at her lower back, making her feel warm and want to snuggle more into his arms. She looked at Missandei, beautifully dressed in a shimmery silver-colored sweater dress with a large green ribbon in the center. She held hands with her boyfriend, known as Grey Worm. He was a military officer stationed overseas in Essos and was able to get a few weeks off for the Holidays.

Seeing their hands intertwined effortlessly made Arya smile as she said, "Well, to tell you the truth, I'm ready for school to be over but terrified the day after graduation." She then took a sip of champagne as she felt Gendry's hand over her lower back rub her affectionately as if to put her at ease. It worked.

Daenerys, who was standing next to Missandei's other side, said, "You're going to be fine."

Arya appreciated the sentiment as she looked at her best friend's sweater dress: Three kittens in the present box, all pawing at real ornaments from part of the tree. She smirked. "Of course, your dress would have cats on it."

Daenerys smiled. "You know it."

"Where's the trio? I haven't seen them for hours," Arya said.

Daenerys gave a half-smile. "I knew they would jump on the counters and eat food they shouldn't, so they're in my room, most likely very upset."

Arya chuckled. "Just wait until later..." Referring to a similar incident from months ago when the cats shredded pillows in retaliation.

Daenerys rolled her eyes. "Ha," she said dispassionately.

Just then, a waiter came with a platter of Gendry's fried mash potato balls.

"These are divine," Missandei said, grabbing one.

Grey worm, dressed in a classic patterned sweater with cookies and milk and Santa, munched on his third one and nodded. "Great job, man. I swear if there's still any left, I'm going to finish the Portobello Mushrooms. Those are excellently seasoned."

Gendry, who looked a little embarrassed at receiving such praise, smiled slowly. "Thanks—the seasoning is from Essos. A lot of the spices and herbs from there I use at my restaurant."

Daenerys finished her fried mash potato ball and said, "Thank you again, Gendry, for your lovely food." She smiled at him.

He nods in response and said, "Of course and if you will excuse us..." He pulls his hoodie over his head, showing the antlers, completing his ugly reindeer sweater. He looked at Arya, "Did you want to dance?" He shrugged.

"Sure," She puts her glass on the counter and takes his hand with hers, trying not to laugh at the antlers as they walk toward the Christmas tree where others were dancing. She turned around and saw the antlers again, this time unable to keep it in, and laughed out loud. "Oh, my Gods—you look cute but ridiculous!" The central part of his sweater was the reindeer's chest as if Gendry was a reindeer himself.

Gendry smiled. "And your sweater looks more normal than ugly," he remarked.  

Arya looked down at her dark gray sweater with a snow wolf in the middle with a red Santa hat as snowflakes rained all over. She then shrugged. "I don't care.” She then wrapped her arms around his neck, slightly pulling on an antler as Gendry smirked at her, making her laugh as they jumped to the upbeat music together. Watching the antlers bounce, she said, “I'm here, dancing and spending time with you—that's what matters to me." She kissed him on the lips, feeling him respond as they stopped dancing and made the kiss last the rest of the song, leaning against a stocking on the wall.

   Daenerys looked around the festive and lively room and saw guests talking, eating, laughing, and dancing. She spotted Meera in the kitchen talking with a young man unfamiliar to her, but as she saw Meera's small smile forming, she knew she was having a good time. She looked around and spotted them, grinning as she said, "You know, I've never seen Arya dance with anybody that wasn't a Stark." Daenerys held on to Margaery, dancing slowly together, two couples away from Arya and Gendry.

Margaery, who wore a light green sweater with a pattern of roses and mistletoe all over, lifted her head from her girlfriend's shoulder and saw the couple kissing and slow dancing to the newly changed song. She gave them a sly grin as she said, "I like them together."

Daenerys nodded in agreement. "Me too. I almost want to go to Winterfell and see everyone's reaction when they reveal they're in a relationship."

Margaery raised her brows. "So, she is going to tell them? I don't know—What I get from Arya is that she wants to keep their relationship a secret as long as possible. I mean, we may have not even known if we hadn't caught them..." She half-smiles, holding Daenerys closer to her.

"Knowing the Starks, I don't think she will be able to keep the secret this holiday, but..." She shrugged. "She can be very sneaky, so she might be able to pull it off." She looked at her girlfriend's headband, which had a small mistletoe sewed into it. She touches the mistletoe and says, "You were so creative with this."

Margaery gave her a sly smile. "Anything to keep doing this," She kisses Daenerys on the lips, her hands feeling the wool material as they landed on her ass, squeezing it.

Daenerys, felt so happy and in love, her hand in Margaery's silky hair as she pulled her closer to her, feeling their lips touch and move together.

As it neared two in the morning, the Condo quieted down. Christmas music continued to play but on a lower volume. About half of the guests remained. Arya opened her bedroom with Gendry's hand in hers and saw a couple of people in her bed, clothed, sleeping. There was even someone on the floor, snoring. She closed the door.

"Well, I didn't anticipate this." She said, leaning against the wall in the hall.

"What are you going to do?" Gendry asked.

"I don't want to kick them out—It just doesn't feel right once people had a good time here..."

"It's your bed—they should have fucking asked," Gendry scoffed.

"I kinda like you're angrier than me about this."

"If it were my bed—they would be out." He said matter-of-factly.

She chuckled. "Well, there is another solution to this." She raised her brow, giving Gendry a small grin as she leaned forward, kissing him, tasting chocolate. She moaned as she felt Gendry's hand on her cheek, pulling her closer, hoping he got what she meant.

"As you wish, Milady," he whispered against her lips before licking the bottom of her lip and kissing her harder.

#gendrya #arya x gendry #ao3 #fanfic #multi chapter fic #inspired by Tumblr prompt #holidays #christmas #my fanfic

[dear-claws]

someone’s been making brahmsy blush 💕💕💕

#it was billy #<3 #fanart #slashers #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #antler shreds

[your-iron-lung]

La Chasse au Loup - 3

available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis: All things considered, there’s a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way.

It's coyotes that do it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, but whatever it was it certainly wasn't anything living under his very nose.

Chapter Word Count: 2970

Pairings: (background, minimal) Wayne/Daryl

Genre: Dark/black comedy with a lil bit of drama

Next Chapter: Unavailable

Previous Chapter: 1, 2

-------

THE BUSH

All things considered, there were a lot of strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, rural as it may be. Some of it he could be aware of and do his best to work around, but a lot of it went so far under the radar it almost wasn’t worth thinking about. (The incident with finding the cannabis plants first came to mind whenever Wayne had the hindsight to think back on it).

Mostly it was animals- a goat or a sheep that hadn’t been bedded down proper wandered out overnight and didn't wander back come morning. Turned up the next day in the back-bush in a strange, disemboweled sort of way, with its limbs all askew and guts just hanging out in the brush like they were only meant to take in the sun for a quick minute before coming back to the barn.

It's coyotes that did it, Wayne reasoned. Wolves, maybe, taking advantage of Dary’s own incompetence for forgetting to lock the livestock in at night. Forgetful as Dary was (or wasn’t; he was always quick to insist that he  did  bed them down and locked them in proper whenever they found one out there, but if that were true, how’d they wind up dead out in the bush then, eh, big shoots?), that’s why it eventually became so important to grab a chair, a rifle, a best bud and go out there to thin down the local population a bit to discourage that kind of gore from turning up. It was nice to be outdoors, and nicer still to earn $65 a coyote tail, but even so, sometimes things turned up in the back-bush in that strange, disemboweled sort of way that didn’t always look like it  could  be the work of a coyote or wolf.

Like that one time they found a human hand out there, lying casually in the shade of a wild blackberry bush like whoever it’d been attached to had simply been caught berry-picking and left it behind in a hurry. Uncleanly severed at the wrist, its pale fingertips were stained purple from blood loss and berry residue and unfortunately had to be wrested from Stormy’s strong jaw before she could run off with it. 

They hadn’t found the rest of whoever the hand had belonged to, but the hand alone was enough to leave a bad taste in Wayne’s mouth, though it was one he didn’t have to swallow if he didn’t pay too much attention to it. And anyway, if the authorities they’d called in to deal with it weren’t worried about it, then Wayne didn’t see much of a reason to fret over it either.

“We’ll get to the bottom if it,” they’d assured him, but they never got back to him on whether or not they ever did.

So, all things considered, Wayne knew firsthand about the strange things a man could find in the back-bush of his own farm, but it still took him by surprise when he and Dary stumbled upon the latest oddity his land had to offer.

A moose- specifically, a big old bull, lying dead on its side in the snow with one antler broken roughly in half and its guts torn viciously away from its stomach like something hadn’t just been trying to find a meal, but had been trying to dig its way  in  . They both stared at the carnage in repressed awe, because the only thing dumb enough to try and take down a  full grown bull moose  was likely a Canada goose, and even though those beautiful fowl were tougher than nails with teeth on their tongues, there was no way in hell a Canada goose was capable of taking down anything bigger than a Gus-sized dog when it came right down to it.

The corpse alone was intimidating. The sheer, archaic  size of it. The fact that one of its antlers lied half-buried in the snow, fractured in half and splintered, indicated that whatever killed it had power. Strength to not just kill it, but to maim it viciously in the process. As he came to understand this, Wayne subconsciously gripped the butt of his rifle just a little bit tighter.

Beside him, Dary turned his head to spit, but he didn’t take his eyes off the ruination of that great big moose.

“What’ya reckon’s done that, Wayne?” he asked, and he was either nervous or tired or an uneasy combination of both, because there was a tightness to Dary’s voice that cut into his nonchalance and managed to get Wayne to spare him a quick look of contemplation.

He wanted to say coyote, maybe, or a wolf, more than likely, but he knew well enough that it couldn’t have been either of those things, and knew that Dary knew that, too. Creatures like that were too small, and who’d ever heard of a  coyote getting after a moose? Not savage enough, even on the off chance they’d gone rabid and the moose was sick or something. They didn’t have claws nearly big enough to shred open the side of a moose like that anyway, because whatever tore into it had hollowed it out almost completely.

A bear then  , he reasoned to himself, although given that it was the dead of winter and any bear capable of disemboweling a moose was probably tucked away in its den, sleeping the cold away, hardly bothered enough to decimate a moose.  A moose.

Coyote, wolf, or bear, though- all three would’ve eaten more than just its guts, which were left in long, wet tendrils strewn across the snow like big pink worms.

“Dunno, Dar,” he eventually said slowly. He stood there looking puzzled, because there weren’t any tracks in the thick snow for him to make a fair assessment of what could’ve happened, but he tried not to let it show too much. “But if it starts comin’ round near the house, it’ll be trouble.”

Dary grunted in affirmation and hocked another spit, pulling the phlegm into his throat with a gross wet sound. He licked his lips afterwards. He couldn’t take his eyes off the corpse.

“Better find it before it gets there, then,” he said after a long moment.

“That’s the biggest Texas sized 10-4 I ever heard, good buddy.”

Even so, they stood there silently, contemplating the dead moose for a long minute before hoisting up their rifles to bravely spend the day prowling about in the bush searching, tracking, dreading running into whatever butchered the moose. In the end, though, they couldn’t find even a small trace of it, whatever it was.

No prints to follow, no blood-trail towards a den; nothing. The snow around the moose had been too disturbed by whatever it’d been fighting to retain any helpful information, and they were left with nothing but the knowledge of a threat.

After the sun began to set, they crept slowly back to the farmhouse, unnerved, retreating from the darkness before they started taking potshots at shadows that started to look a little too wrong the longer they stayed out there.

They buried the corpse the morning after Wayne reported it to wildlife. It required the use of tractors and other rented machinery to get it into the earth, but once it was gone, they all felt better for it.

Except Wayne. For a man who mostly lived inside the confines of his own mind, out of sight, out of mind never really did apply to him like it did others.

The incident with the moose left him troubled and wondering. The mere suggestion that  something  large and violent enough to kill a moose was running amok on  his  property was both equal parts infuriating and terrifying.

It could get one of the dogs, if they weren’t careful. It’d already been at the sheep; why would it stop there? He resolutely did not think of Dary, alone in his trailer on the outskirts of the property and what might happen if it started sniffing around there.

Though, that was  if  it continued to hang around, which, of course it did. In the months that followed, more unexplainable gore turned up around the property, but nothing as shocking as the moose. It was small things, mostly: bloodied strips of matted fur, dismembered pieces of animals (both farm-raised and wild). The corpses that began to litter the farm, coupled with the broken sections of fencing that turned up every so often were strong enough evidence to let them all know that it was still out there and still, clearly, a problem. As if to spite him, Gus and Stormy began bringing the remains of things they found out in the fields home to him, laying them out on the back porch and staining the wood dark with blood and rot and reminding him, constantly, that he couldn’t  find the damn thing.  

It worried him that there was something so unknown out there. He wasn’t used to having problems he couldn’t outright deal with, but no one who knew anything about what was going on at the farm could make heads or tails of it. If it was a degen he could fight them and get them to fuck off with his fists, but as it was, they couldn’t even figure out  what  it was they were dealing with.

Just something strange, out there in the bush.

We’ll get to the bottom of it, the authorities had assured him.

But had they? Had the authorities actually done anything at all?

With the rash of recent animal deaths around the farm, they started to keep the dogs inside at night, and some of Katy’s favourite barn cats, too.

As troubling as it all was, though, it wasn’t like they found something out there every day, or even every week (aside from what the dogs sniffed out and brought home); for the most part, the back-bush remained barren. Empty, except for the occasional degen or worm-picker they have to chase off the property for fear of finding their bodies out there one day.

There were long periods of days where livestock went untouched. Sometimes, even weeks passed where no wildlife turned up in that strange, disemboweled sort of way they’d all started to get used to, and life progressed at its usual, slow, small-town pace, until a month or so later when it all began happening again. Something strange. Something disemboweled. Something that, again, left no trace of ever having been there at all, except for the ruined corpse it often left behind that had them all scratching their heads in its wake.

We’ll get to the bottom of it.

Staring down at the bloodied remains of not one, not two, but  three  maimed coyotes, two of them dead, one still barely hanging on, breathing hard and whimpering for mercy, Wayne felt his frustrations reach a peak. All three of the coyotes have been practically torn to pieces, yes,  pieces , and the words of that first initial assurance begin to repeat themselves in his head:

Don’t trouble yourself over it, Wayne. We’ll get to the bottom of it.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, and turned away to squint off into the horizon, squaring his jaw as he internalized his frustrations in order to pretend he couldn’t hear the agonized whines of that poor coyote.

“Wayne, buddy, I hate to say it, but I think you might have a real problem on your hands here.” Dary’s face was drawn tight and pinched with exhaustion. He’d grown jaded to it; they all had, but even so he looked miserably tired. Drained in a way that suggested he’d had a rough night out at the ‘rippers or something.

The rough, unshaven scruff of a wiry beard around his jaw had Wayne do a double take, wondering when Dary’s facial hair had taken to forming anything but sporadic, unformed pre-pubescent patches.

“Well, you don’t fuckin’ say,” Wayne responded tersely as he unstrapped the gun from his shoulder. He lined up the rifle to the head of the injured coyote and held it there unwaveringly until it died on its own with one long exhalation.

Dary didn’t make any further comments. He scratched the fuzz lining his face unaware and followed Wayne around for the rest of the day as they made arrangements to bury the coyotes, sectioning off yet another piece of land that was quickly growing full of animal corpses.

And then, normalcy. Farming. Spending the evenings at MoDeans, as though a few rounds of Puppers would save them from their problem. Rumors grew about the goings on at the farm; (‘Bad gas travels fast in a small town’, someone’s always saying), despite their efforts to quell them. They hadn’t been keeping the animal carnage that had been taking place a secret, not exactly, but once enough people started hearing about it, word began spreading that maybe one of the dogs he reared had gone full Cujo, causing the produce stand’s success to take a hard financial hit, and Wayne’s frustrations only ever grew.

After the failing return to normalcy, a body.

Except, it wasn’t an animal this time.

“Jesus Christ,” Dary said, in a panicked way that meant, ‘Oh fuck buddy, we’ve stumbled onto something really terrible here’. He turned around and immediately threw up, and the sound of Dary’s sickness paired with what he was looking at was enough to make Wayne’s stomach start to turn sour too.

It was a person- a  whole person; not just a hand this time. Unrecognizable, but dead and disemboweled all the same.

“Oh fuck, Wayne.” Dary choked out his name like a whimper as he wiped the spit off his chin, turning back to face the body, his eyes wide as he tried to identify it. “Is that- is that one of the  skids ?”

It was bound to happen , Wayne thought idly to himself amidst Dary’s panic. The only thing left to discover out there short of another fucked up moose was a fucked up man, but even so it was shocking.

There were whole chunks missing; huge bites torn out of this man’s body that were much too large to fit into the mouth of a wolf or coyote, or even a bear. Wayne stared down at the corpse and remembered the words of the police the last time they’d been around:  we’ll get to the bottom of it.

Well, they hadn’t. They hadn’t done fuck-all, from the looks of it.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Dary, there’s work to be done here,” he said icily, trying to channel a firmer constitution before turning away from the body with a concise, jerky movement. Anger, fear, and disgust bitterly powered through his veins, because when it came right down to it, the authorities  hadn’t gotten to the bottom of anything.

They  hadn’t, but  he  would.

With Daryl in tow, Wayne stalked back to the farmhouse with dark purpose, a plan of action already beginning to take form in his mind as they stepped into the wide opening of the barn.

“I won’t ask you to be my accomplice in this,” he said as he stood amidst the hay and a tractor, looking around briefly before taking hold of a shovel. He looked at Daryl, who was pale and clearly frightened, but seemed to already know what edict Wayne was about to lay out. “Now, I’m going to bury this man, and if you think I oughta do somethin’ different about it, well, then you’d better fuck off now. You can report me to the authorities if you like, but I think by now you and I know that nothing’s going to get accomplished that way.

“Whatever’s going on here requires more attention then they can spare, and if we don’t figure something out it’s only going to get worse.” Mental images of his dogs and friends and Katy lying out there dead and mauled rose to the forefront of his mind. “I don’t know what the fuck’s out there, but I’m willing to find out and could use the help, if you’d be so willing to lend it.”

Dary eyed the shovel in Wayne’s hand nervously, the implications of what he was saying mulling around in his mind uneasily until a stoic form of clarity stole over his face. His eyes hardened with resolve as he grabbed hold of a pickaxe lying up against the barn wall. “You know, I’d likely follow you into Hell if you asked me to,” Dary said with grim contemplation, feeling the weight of the pickaxe’s handle in his hands, his injury no longer plaguing him as it once did.

Wayne thought he did know, but felt it would’ve been too soft to say so.

Well, that’s why I asked.

“Some things are better left unsaid, good buddy,” he replied instead. He felt both relieved and full of divine purpose all at once as he gripped the wooden shovel’s handle tightly. “I’ll tell Katy after the fact so she won’t be held accountable to anything, if we get found out. Dan too, I think. Fuck, with all the bodies around here maybe we’ll let him start a garden; might take well with all the natural fertilizer and such.”

“Sounds like you’re gearing us up to be like Scooby-Doo and the Blues Clues gang here,” Dary said with a crooked, inappropriate grin.

“Those are two different things, Dar,” Wayne said sullenly before turning his steely gaze back out towards the bush, where something strange and disemboweled lay waiting to be put to rest. “But I’ll let it slide if I get to be Fred.”

“Ain’t no one else among us with a big enough neck to fill out that kerchief, super chief.”

#too lazy to format correctly just click the ao3 link #Letterkenny #letterkenny fanfic #wayne/daryl #werewolf!dary #dark comedy #black comedy #dry comedy #this is supposed to be funny but all i know how to write is drama and horror