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#can you hear the wolf howl in the woods somewhere?
sprout-fics · 6 months
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Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 9 (Final)
(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)
(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)
(Masterlist)
Word count: 5.7k Rating: Mature Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Mating/Claiming Bites, Werewolf reveal, Chase and takedown, Happy ending Warnings: None A/N: Thank you to everyone who supported this series. I'm so immensely grateful to everyone who provided inspiration, encouragement, and support for this story. I'm so proud to be finished. Thank you so much.
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Once more into the woods you run.
The glow of the village has long since faded behind you, the shouts and cries of the villagers as they ready themselves for the incoming devastation a mere echo through the trees. The wind muffles it, whispering through dry branches of sinister shadows and creatures that lurk within the groves around you. The breeze ruffles your skirt, tosses your scarlet cape across your form. Far above the canopy, the smoke from the burning wreckage of your home billows into the sky. The gentle, yellow light of the full moon now drips red from the fire, casting a hazy, crimson curse against the forest below.
It washes over your form as you turn your face to the sky, look to the moon which hangs as a deathly omen to all that gaze upon it. You wait for the towering figure of a wolf to rise far above the branches, to open its jaw and take the moon between its dripping fangs. Ink dark clouds roil before it, and in them you see the eyes of the beast threatening to stare back at you. They pin you where you stand, stare down through the trees and echo a growl to the rising wind.
The forest once felt like an ally to you. Now, it sets to betray you.
Konig is here, somewhere, amidst the trees. Feverish and dazed as he is, he couldn’t have gotten far from the village. Yet in the darkness, where you can scarcely see a few steps ahead of you, it’s impossible to find any tracks to lead you forward. Instead, your voice rises high to the heavens in a desperate bid to summon him to you.
“Konig!!”
It feels like it hardly carries above the wind that rakes through the trees, rustling leaves across the darkened path before awash in malevolent scarlet from the light of the moon. Your voice cries out through the trees as a wailing call, a tearful attempt to find the man who had held you in his arms and whispered endless devotions.
You don’t understand. Why did he leave, when you begged him not to? When he swore he’d stay, when he had asked you if you’d ever walk out of the woods beside him?
Was it all just a lie?
The forest holds all secrets. Now, it holds him away from you as well.
You make your way forward quietly, knowing you are far from alone in these woods. The threat of the beast within remains, and inside your thoughts the sonorous echo of his ominous howl reverberates in an endless omen. The memory of the towering, monstrous thing from the first night the witchers had come upon these woods has haunted you all this time.
Taller than any man, a huge, lumbering thing. Its arms too long, ears standing atop its furry head, huge spine hunched forward as a pair of gleaming, yellow eyes gaze at you from the trees. Fangs snarl at you in the confines of your mind, and you feel yourself caught between yellowed teeth as the thing crunches down in a killing blow. You think for a moment you hear the sounds of it giving chase above the rapid echo of your own terror, and despite yourself you venture a gaze behind you as Price’s horse thunders down the misty midnight path towards the safety of the village.
You see just a glimpse of it from beyond your fluttering red cape, a shadow that dwarfs your thoughts, a gaze that fixates on you from afar, seeming to promise ‘Soon, little maiden. Soon.’
Soon. You knew this entire time you would come to face the beast. A premonition lurked within you like a fawn disguised amongst the brambles, concealed and fragile, waiting for a thing you could not see. Trembling, it hid from shadows, blinked at the moving figures above, listening to the growl that prowled in search of your quivering form.
You thought you’d have more time.
Now, with the blood moon rising, the wind carrying the sound of your voice in a desperate cry, the darkness swallowing you whole, you fling yourself towards that violent fate. You run forward as panic mounts within you, feet thudding against the cold earth as you search for the soul of your beloved.
He’s here, you can feel it. You know you’ll find him, throw yourself into his arms and dry your face against his shirt as his arms close protectively around you. Somehow, you’ll find yourself facing the wolf together, finding a way forward as you both have vowed. Escape, or death, as long as he holds his hand in yours.
A howl splits the sky.
It begins as a low note and rises to full pitch just as goosebumps erupt across your skin in terror. The sound is deafening. It feels like it’s all around you with no discernible source, calling out your name as a herald of your demise. The howl shakes the ground below your feet, feels like it cracks the earth so you fall down into the endless forest, the branches closing above you as an inescapable prison.
You feel your chest rising unevenly, limbs shaking and breath curling away from you in a gasping billow of air. Terror roots you to where you stand, stifles your voice so the utterance of his name is a mere whisper.
“Konig.”
He said he’d protect you. He said he’d stay.
You knew you tasted lies on his tongue when you kissed him.
Yet you refuse to release him without giving chase.
You run forward once more, the apocalyptic red of the moon radiating off your scarlet cape, dyeing your figure the color of blood. The color of your inescapable fate.
Please. You beg the gods who do not listen. Let me see him. One more time. Let me kiss him and whisper words there even as I’m devoured.
Once more into the woods you run.
Shadows dance at the edge of your vision, and you spin towards them, eyes wild as you try to find Konig, the creature amongst them.
“Konig!!” You call again, listening for his answering call. You flee deeper into the woods, praying that with your next step you don’t find a mangled corpse at your feet.
Yet in the light of the moon, what you find instead is just as horrifying.
Fabric waves in the wind from a sapling that bends to the breeze, and as you near you catch it between your hands.
A dark, poorly sewn covering. The hood he used to cover his face.
Yet there’s no bloodstains, no indication of injury. Almost as if he had torn it from his figure himself. You gaze down at it, fingers tracing the seams, eyes not understanding. Had he shed it in his fevered state, full of delusions?
It doesn’t matter. He’s close, you can tell. Once more, you raise your voice to the rising wind in a cry for him.
“Konig!!”
Yet in the echo of your call, the woods fall ominously silent. The whisper of winter on the wind stills to a quiet hush, tickling the edge of your cape before it falls into stillness. The sway of the trees gently wavers to a halt, and even the clouds above seem to pause in their journey across the sky. The forest holds its breath, allowing the drum of your heartbeat to pulse too loud in your ears.
In the soundless woods around you, you feel an awareness prickle sharp across your neck, racing down your spine in acute realization.
You’re being watched.
Then, a growl.
Fear pulses in tandem with the icy rush of blood in your veins, chest compression the air in your chest into a silent, trembling breath. The low, grinding sound of the growl reverberates ceaselessly in your thoughts, echoing there with the sound you heard so long ago, on the day you began to be plagued by nightmares of the hulking, towering figure that haunts the woods.
You turn in slow motion, limbs shaking, eyes wild and unblinking. You feel as if you move through water, and even as something pulses inside you to run, RUN! you can’t seem to make yourself flee. You remain grounded to the spot, the roots of your feet extended deep into the earth and planting you where you stand. Instead you’re forced to turn to gaze upon the thing that you know will be your destiny.
You expect a shadow, a hulking mass the same as the one you saw in the woods that night. Yet instead the first thing you see is the eyes, the pair of glowing, golden orbs that stare at you from the trees that arch above your trembling form.
Yet then the thing rises, its front paws leaving the earth as it grows taller, taller. With every heartbeat you watch as the beast ascends to its full height, the golden eyes rising through the branches, seemingly past the canopy. An ancient, primordial terror seizes inside you as the monster dwarfs you with its massive size, centuries of instinct bred into your veins by your ancestors to fear the thing before you, to regard it with such terror it urges you to flee to the end of the earth just to avoid its killing bite.
The werewolf raises its muzzle up into the sky just as the clouds part, reddened light streaming through and alighting the creature in the blood red drip of the sky above. It parts its jaws in a snarl, claws extended outwards to reveal the muscle in its arms and torso, fangs gleaming in the ruby glow that makes scarlet ooze from its mouth as it parts-
and howls a catastrophic omen to the heavens.
You will yourself to cover your ears, but your fists remain at your side, one hand still gripping the fabric of the man you may never see again. Instead, your eyes remain locked on the werewolf that towers far above you, with such monstrous height and size you think it may devour you whole.
He can swallow the moon. You think with such stomach-turning dread that every other thought within you sucks into petrified silence.
I’m going to die.
It’s that thought that finally releases you.
You’re sprinting away before you can process the ground moving under your feet, boots thudding against the earth as you fling yourself further into the trees. The long note of the beast’s howl trails after you, dimming to nothingness as the wind rises once more, as your own heaving breaths muffle every other sound in the world around you.
RUN.
You weave deftly between the branches and trunks of the trees around you, your smaller size an advantage to the monster’s lumbering stature. The forest reveals itself to you at last, seems to part before you as you hurl yourself in an unknown direction, a bloodied path with a fatal end. The trees swallow you, try vainly to hide you within their depths as you feel the earth thud, and the monster finally gives chase.
You suck in air desperately, chest compressing in dangerous hyperventilation as you flee. You can’t stop it, you don’t even try, knowing every single moment could be your last. Legs pumping, you try to remember which way you came, trying to remember the dips of brooks and streams, of crags to hide yourself in, the way back in the direction of town in a vain bid to lure the beast into the swords of the hunters there.
Yet in your chest a single word echoes out in a deafening prayer, a scream for rescue towards the one who vowed to protect you.
“KONIG!!”
The beast follows behind you, and you feel the ground shaking under your feet as it closes the distance, tearing trees like branches as it carves a path forward towards your fleeing form. You hear the crack of wood- the sound of an ax hammering through trunks, felling ancient oaks just to taste the warm drip of your blood against its fangs. Each step it takes trembles the earth like a war drum, every beat within your chest feels like the moments ticking until the jaws seize about form, crushing you in half as your scream fills with scarlet-
PLEASE!! You shriek vainly towards the gods, tears filling your eyes with the futility of this chase, knowing it only ends one way. ONCE MORE. LET ME SEE HIM JUST ONCE MORE.
The moon stares balefully down upon your crimson clad form. Silent, imminent, unavoidable since before the day this story began.
Your cape snags against a bramble of thorns, and at the speed you launch yourself with the tie around your neck chokes the air from your lungs. You tug frantically at the fabric, hearing it tear as you rip yourself free, casting a single glance over your shoulder at the thing behind you.
It’s several long strides away, once more on all fours, steam streaming from its dripping maw as it pants and gives chase. Paws the size of your head impact the earth, drumming a rhythm there that screams higher with the pulse between your ribs. The golden eyes trace you as you stumble in your terror, promising a fatal bite that grows closer with every passing second.
You’ll never outrun it.
You try desperately to think past the veil of all consuming fear within, trying to find a solution, a way out, a path forward further into the woods so deep it cannot find you.
The solution comes before you can fully consider it. In the darkness, you don’t see the dip of the stream bank ahead of you. You yelp as you fall forward, unintentionally launching yourself into the water below. It’s not so deep it covers you fully, but the sudden shock of the cold brook manages to steal the air from your lungs as you raise yourself up with shaking limbs. The deafening huff of the beast is just beyond you, and in blind terror you lurch forward once more.
Yet the forest, in all its secrets, offers you a hidden enclave, a shelter. Your hand finds the deep swell of a space between the rocks, damp and shadowed, a space just large enough to fit yourself into. Your chest heaves in gasping breaths as you cram yourself into it, allowing the rocks to swallow you. It’s in his memory, you think, remembering the way you found Konig curled into the same hollow between the trees and rocks, eyes terrified and somehow hopeful as he once reached for you.
He could be already dead. Devoured by the wolf, and with you never having the chance to say goodbye.
Yet you stifle your tears as the werewolf pounces into the stream with a throat tearing snarl, snuffling along the bank’s edge in an effort to trace your scent. You pray that your fall into the water has erased the smell of your fear it uses to follow you, that the shadows of your small enclave conceal you enough to avoid the gaze of its glowing, golden eyes.
You can hear the monster splashing in the stream, growling in frustration as it tries and fails to detect you, nose lifting to the wind to catch your scent. It barks in growing anger, the sound full of ire, grinding deep in its throat. You shiver in the darkness, frigid, wet, shaking from head to toe in your fear. You force yourself to try and not even breathe, for fear the monster will somehow hear that too. You wish in a futile prayer for the moon to set, for the sun to rise and the monster once more to fade into the trees, away from your terrified form huddled into the embankment.
Please. Please. Please. Go away. Just go. Please.
The monster howls towards the sky once more in an angered cry, and the sound shakes the earth under you, seems to echo off the rocks that ensconce your form. The whimper that bubbles up your throat is muffled by the roar, and you shift to gather your cape tighter around you as if it somehow offers a shield of protection.
Then, the world goes silent.
You’re clenched so tight you almost don’t notice at first, eyes scrunched shut and figure curling in on itself as much as the space will allow. A sob clings to the back of your throat, and you will it through sheer force into silence unless it betrays you. Yet the huff and growl of the monster beyond you has vanished. The stream babbles gently in its absence, a soft, almost soothing sound paired with the rustle of trees far above.
You wait a long breath, wait longer for your heart to begin to still before you allow your shoulders to drop, your eyes to open.
Only to stare into the golden gaze of the werewolf.
You scream, and scream louder as a claw snags the edge of your cape, allowing the monster to drag you from your shelter.
“NO. NO!!” You shriek, struggling as the thing parts its jaws in a sinister snarl. Your hands work frantically at the tie around your collar, fingers fumbling as you fall onto your side, the impact rattling the air from your heaving chest.
Somehow, you manage to free yourself, and as the monster plucks the red fabric of your cape between its fangs, you miraculously manage to dart under one of its massive legs and fling yourself up the slope of the embankment. You claw at branches and roots, fingers digging at dirt as you somehow haul yourself up onto solid ground once more. Yet you have not a moment of relief, not as the monster quickly realizes your ruse and gives chase once more.
You cry as you flee, trying to remember the sacraments for the dead as the warm breath of the monster falls upon your nape, quickly closing the distance behind you. A sob tears from your throat, and the memory of your beloved’s gentle embrace, his kisses and devotions provide no shelter from the monster that pursues you.
A swipe to your legs is all it takes to send you tumbling, ground rushing up to greet you harshly. Yet even then you try to struggle away, crawling forward, your eyes streaming with tears. The monster looms above you, uses a mere ounce of strength to flip you onto your back, pin you beneath a single, massive paw.
“Konig.” You sob, vainly trying to dislodge the weight above you, a futile effort as the wolf lowers its maw towards your weak and prone form. A growl reverberates all the way from its chest down into the marrow of your being, and it once more forces a wordless cry as you’re pressed helplessly into the earth.
The werewolf stares down at you, muzzle bunched in a snarl as it lowers its muzzle closer towards the soft, tender arch of your throat. The bite from Konig remains there, and you sob as you remember the words he whispered as he engraved a claiming mark into your flesh.
"Rotty." He growls again, voice deeper, somehow feral. "My Rotty."
Wild, somehow, as he’d held you, barely able to restrain the savageness inside him that seemed more creature than man.
You blink, lips parting, breath caught in your throat as somehow the forest reveals all things kept secret within its depths, at last allowing you to glimpse upon the truth held within the both of you all this time.
The bite mark on his leg. The trap that had been laid by the witchers that had caught the hock of the wolf. The strange disappearance of the monster as you’d sheltered a stranger in your home. His disgust with the scent of wolfsbane on your palms. The interest in his stare that offered a silent watchfulness, an unwavering focus like the lurking gaze of a predator from the woods. The glint of his golden yellow eyes is the same color as the stare above you.
“The wolf won’t hurt you, Rotty. I promise. I’ll protect you.”
“Konig.” You whisper in awed realization, watching as the monster opens its jaws to descend ever so slowly towards your throat.
He left you. He was trying to protect you. Protect you from himself.
He is the wolf from your nightmares.
and somehow, the man from your daydreams.
“It was you.” You whisper, tears still streaming but somehow not afraid, breath released in a sigh as you grow limp under the grasp of the beast above you. “It was always you.”
The pale light of the moon falls upon your open, tender gaze even as warm breath huffs across your skin in the promise of a killing bite.
The words of Laswell, the words you didn’t understand, now unwind themselves in the prophecy of which she spoke.
Laswell holds you, hands clinging tightly to the cape she once bestowed upon you as a gift of her affection towards you.
“There’s one more thing.” She tells you, and in her voice you hear prophecy, the magic she keeps in careful concealment. It winds around you like brambles, a protection for the soul inside you striving towards something you’ve desired all your life, something which remains so close and just out of reach, residing in the woods you’ve always called home.
Laswell gathers you to her, and whispers words in your ear you don’t yet understand, holds you tight like she would a daughter.
“The only way to stop a werewolf.” She speaks to you in a voice that speaks of prophecy. “Is for his name to be echoed thrice by the voice of his beloved.”
Teeth scrape against the flesh of your throat. Your arms raise around the neck of the monster, embracing him so you nuzzle your cheek into his pelt. You drink in the scent of him- familiar, earthy, a touch of smoke from the warm billow of your hearth, and within it the breath of something forever wild and untamed. There, you whisper the final sacrament to this story of yours in a beloved sigh of complete and total surrender.
“Konig.”
The werewolf above you freezes, teeth closed gently around your neck, not yet drawing blood.
You close your eyes, turning your head ever go gently, and press a kiss into his fur.
“Let’s walk out of these woods, together.”
It’s still for a moment, the whisper of the wind through the trees hushing unspoken words onto both your forms, the forest waiting, holding its breath for what comes next.
The creature above you makes a sound, something caught between a growl and a voice, and in it you hear the name he has bestowed upon you.
“Rotty.”
His fangs relinquish their hold on you, drawing back at the same time the paw that pins you withdraws, his form shifting, changing. You watch in awe as the monster before you transforms, fur growing inwards, the bulk of his massive frame folding. His animalistic features retreat from snarling fangs and outstretched claws to human features, shoulders shortening, limbs thinning, until at last the form of a man appears underneath. Konig bows under the transformation, body wracking with a deep shudder as his bones fold themselves back into place, skin knitting so his wolfish features disappear.
At last the pale flesh of his form is revealed, and Konig gasps hoarsely as he falls forward, arms buckling under him so he flops onto your form.
You reach out and catch him, feel the air rush from your lungs as the exhausted weight of him presses down on you. Your hands wrap around his neck, shoulders, and you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, whispering comforts there as he shivers.
“Rotty.” He manages again, voice now absent of the feral growl. Instead he whimpers, broken and desperately relieved, forcing strength into his arms so they wrap around you in turn. “Rotty...I-”
“Shh.” You hush him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re safe. I’m alright. We’re okay.”
Konig shivers again, hiccups a small, sorrowful sound into your shoulder.
“I tried to save you.” He rasps. “I knew if I stayed that-”
He sucks in a sharp breath. “I...nearly killed you.”
“I know.” You tell him, a hand reaching up to pet at his hair. “I saved you.”
Konig nuzzles deeper into you with a trembling sigh, hauls you closer to him. “How did you...?”
You smile, staring up at the moon. For the first time, you notice that the red haze of smoke from the village is dissipating, leaving behind a gentle, pale yellow that bathes you both.
“A friend.” You confess. “Someone who had faith in me.”
Konig is still for a moment, before he at last rises off you, bracing himself on his elbows so her hovers just above your face. Without his hood, you see his features for the first time. A strong jaw, a tickling of a beard, a slightly crooked nose, long dark hair that drapes across his forehead and neck, and...
You blink, fingers coming up to trace the corner of his mouth.
Sharp canines that speak of something other than human.
“What sharp teeth you have.” You murmur softly, expression softening, and you watch in awe as Konig’s face pinches, tears welling into his eyes.
“Rotty.” He sobs, ducking his head. “Rotty, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I never-”
You watch him, transfixed by this new myriad of expressions you’re witnessing for the first time, lips parting in wonder. The words inside you escape before you can stop them.
“You’re so...beautiful.” You whisper, watching as his eyes shoot up towards yours, shocked. You can only offer a tender smile, a sweet and beloved reassurance as your hand traces his cheek in a loving gesture.
“I love you.” He tells you, barely audible, as if he’s almost scared to say it, scared of his devotion towards you. It clenches something tight in your chest, and you feel your own expression finally crumple, warmth flooding your eyes once more.
You stretch up, press your lips to him in a chaste contact, and whisper there the words you’ve wished so desperately to say this entire time.
“I love you, Konig.”
He shudders at the sound of your breathless confession, and gently grazes his lips against yours, as if he can taste the words there.
“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs, and bends at last to kiss you.
You press into him eagerly, head falling back onto the earth as he chases you, mouth slanting against yours with a sigh. Your hand raises to tangle in his hair, and it solicits a groan from him, deep and cavernous like the wolf he is inside. You feel his teeth bite at your lip, fangs scraping across the plush skin. You shudder at the pure possessiveness with which he kisses you, as if to remind himself that you’re whole, his, only ever his. His Rotty. His beloved. His mate.
You whisper his name once more and allow him to devour you whole.
---
The sun rises gently over the village.
In Laswell’s quiet cottage, pale morning light seeps through the windows, and washes over her in a soft, dove gray that catches the color of her eyes. She gathers her things, collects her belongings and prepares herself for the long journey that is about to come.
In her hands, a letter.
Dearest Kate,
I’m safe, but you probably knew that when you saw this.
I’ve decided to leave the village, and my guess is so have you.
I have someone to go with, but I think you knew that too.
We’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’ll find a way to visit soon.
Just not yet. I hope you can explain to Price and the others
what has happened. I hope they’ll understand, and that
someday I can see them again. Give them my love.
Tell them I understand why they did what they did in
hiding the truth from me. I know they were trying to
protect me, and I don’t hold it against them.
I have someone to protect as well, and he’s going to
protect me too. We have each other, and I’m more
happy than I can write here.
You had faith in me. You always have. You knew
that only I could break this curse, and even at the
risk of my own life you believed in me. Without you,
I would have lived a life of heartache. Thank you for
saving me from that. Know that I will find a way to
see you soon, and until then I hope you are happy,
and well, and safe.
With all my love,
Red...and Konig
Laswell stares down at the paper with sad, fond eyes. There’s a bitter sweetness to her smile, a happiness that is stifled only by your absence. She comforts herself with your words, with your promise to come see her once more. Yet she’s glad to watch you leave, as if observing a fledgling lark take flight for the first time and ascend far above the trees, into the blue sky. There will be a time when you come back to nest into her arms, and she trusts for the day to come soon when she can embrace you as the daughter you are to her.
A knock on the door. She turns, taking in the weary, grieving form of Price as he stands on the threshold.
“It’s time.” He tells her, voice mournful, muted. Laswell tilts her head, smiles at him before gesturing to him inside. He stands at her side, brow bunched in dismay, and she turns to him, cups his face in fond familiarity.
“John.” She murmurs. “I have something to tell you.”
---
The wind rushes past your ears as you fly across the earth, hands gripped tight to the beast that moves under you. Fur tangles between your fingers, and you use it to brace yourself with every powerful roll of shoulders that carries you forward. Warm, panting breaths huff into the growing winter air, steam billowing from the creature’s mouth as his paws thunder against the ground. You cling to him as he runs, the crimson of your cape streaming out behind you like a bloodstain.
You look to the sky, where the sun rises above a clear, pale blue, and the moon nestles softly beyond the horizon- waiting, silent, until it rises once more. The vast expanse of azure you were never able to fully see extends endlessly out before you as you’re carried far above the tree line, into the mountains, and away from the village you once called home. Instead, your eyes take in the never-ending forest below, and gaze further up into the misty slopes wherein you will plant new roots for you and him.
The beast under you slowly trots to a halt amidst a fern lined grove, glances at you over a single massive shoulder with golden eyes. You stroke through his dark fur before sliding from his back onto solid earth once more. As you do, the wolf rises and shifts, bones shifting inwards until Konig is at last revealed with a soft sigh. He stands bare beside you as you toe the edge of the cliff to take in the view below. The smoke from the village can no longer be seen, well behind you now as you travel towards the future. The changing colors of fall have begun to fade, and you shiver at the thought of the long winter that’s yet to come.
Konig loops his arms around you from behind, drags you to him so the warmth of his frame bleeds into you. You go easily, lifting a hand to gently grasp at his arm as you two stare down at the valley below.
“We’ve a long ways to go, Schatz.” He murmurs, propping his head above yours and swaying gently on his feet. “We’ll need to find a den before winter comes.”
You hum a low note in response and allow yourself to imagine it- a new home. One with furs lining the floors, plush beneath your bare feet. A fire blazes brightly, smoke lifting upwards with the scent of cedar. You feel the warmth of it cast golden across your bare form as you pad over towards the nest you share with him. Both of you, strange, mysterious creatures of the woods- once alone, now together. He embraces you, gathers you to him and descends towards your waiting lips. You taste devotions on his tongue.
“My mate.” He purrs from behind you, as if imagining the same vision. He leans down to nuzzle at your cheek affectionately, drinking in your scent with a pleased, rumbling growl. You crane your head to offer him a kiss and feel the smile there as you do.
“My wolf.” You murmur in return with a breathy sigh, cup his face in tender affection. A sound rumbles low in his chest- possessive, protective, and utterly devoted.
He tilts his head, noses along the bruise he left on your neck with a displeased little whine.
“It’s fading.” He remarks quietly, noting the waning colors. “My claiming bite.”
You arch your neck so he has better access to it, sighing languidly in response. “Is that what makes me yours?” You ask softly.
Konig pauses then, and soon you find yourself facing him, caught in his arms as your hands brace themselves on his bare chest.
“No.” He tells you, staring down with his beautiful eyes, the color of a damp, green forest. “I can bite you, claim you forever, but you’re mine no matter what, Rotty.”
You offer him a smile of pure adoration, eyes full of a love so deep not even the endless forest has room to contain it. You stroke his face, your beloved wolf, and whisper the words that are your destiny.
“Then claim me.” You tell him softly, feeling prophecy unfurl once more. “Forever. I’m yours.”
Gold swallows green in his gaze, eyes glimmering brightly as he gathers you to him once more. You sigh into his lips as his arms close around you, unspooling your crimson cape so it sprawls on the earth below.
“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs with the low intonation of a wild thing now tamed by your hands. “My Rotty.”
He lays you down amongst the ferns, presses his teeth to the soft flesh of your neck...
and you allow red to seal your fate.
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hwasoup · 3 months
Text
Tale As Old As Time
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Playlist to read along with !!
songs used for inspo: No Matter What (reprise), Wolf Chase, etc...
art credit goes to Marbipa
ooh lord, my back hurts from so much from all the typing I swear once I start writing I don't stop until it's done, any whoop I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!! Try guessing who our new characters are, they'll be introduced soon!!
like always let me know if you’d like to be tagged !
prev | ch.3>>
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warnings: enchanted items, fear, slight harassment, slight misogyny
word count: 2.5K
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Chapter 2: The Castle
A week after departing from the village….
Mauricio happily hums a tune to himself as he directs Felipe where to go. “Ahh Felipe, can’t you taste it?? First place at the contest, I mean this contraption is very nifty, I’m sure I'll win a prize” He holds onto the reins a bit tighter as he looks around the dark woods. “Well…isn’t this lovely…if only I could recognize which woods I'm in” he says. After a while he reaches a fork in the road. He didn’t know whether to go left or to go right “well…this...is…something” he thinks for a while and looks in both directions “well then Felipe, let's go left, shall we? Let's try to get somewhere before-” Thunder rumbles in the distance..."before the storm hits.” he says while directing the horse to go on the path.
After a while the woods slowly became more spiritless, the trees started looking more shriveled, and the vegetation slowly started disappearing. The wind has picked up a bit and the thunder rumbled louder than before. Mauricio looks around a bit more and says “well where did you take us Felipe? This can’t be right?” he says blaming his decision on the poor horse. Then Howling is heard in the distance. Felipe backed up a bit looking around anxiously as he nickered some more “We should turn back around” Mauricio says.
Suddenly out of the blue he sees a wolf behind him and immediately yells “GO FELIPE GO” The Horse neighs loudly and starts galloping, Rain has started falling and lightning crackles in the sky. Mauricio didn’t even bother to look behind him as he could hear the pattering of feet and snarls behind him. He was being chased by a pack of wolves. The path in the woods slowly started disappearing and the trees became larger and thicker, the rainfall seemingly to become harder and stronger. The roots protruded in the path as the pair ran away. A branch that was in the way makes Felipe trip and fall, the wagon unlatching itself to the horse as it runs. Mauricio fell down and looked at his wagon, all of his supplies scattered, and his dear invention destroyed, but there was no time to think about that. 
He then heard a deep growl behind him and saw the wolf, he got up and ran as fast as his feet could take him and ran to the edge of a small cliff. He looked down and saw the rest of the wolves snarling at him, ready for him to jump so they could pounce at him. He sees Felipe in the distance and yells “FELIPE POR ACA, VENGA!” The horse whinnies and runs towards him, allowing Mauricio to jump and perfectly land on the horse’s back. He looks behind as he sees the pack chase him and his grip tightens on the horse’s reins. He turns back around to see a gate. “TO THE GATE FELIPE” he cries out. The horse runs as fast as its hooves can take him and the gates open allowing the pair to quickly escape and immediately closes as soon as they enter, leaving the hungry pack of wolves barking and snarling outside.
Felipe gallops until it becomes a trot as he could see a stable where he could stay. Mauricio wipes his face in relief and then gets off the horse and brings him to the stable “well let’s get you settled, at least you have some food and water…now, let me go up and uhm…” He looks up at the grandeur castle that is before him. “Greet our host...” he says in awe of the castle. As he walks up the stairs to the entrance, he wonders why can’t seem to remember this place existing or even why there was a castle here in the first place. His thoughts are replaced by the thunder booming as he needs to get inside to stay dry from the storm. 
Mauricio then arrives at the door and looks around, he can see all the lamps lit up, but nobody outside. He knocks on the door and the door creaks and opens. “Thank you, Thank-” he looks next to him and sees nobody by the door. He looks behind him as he sees the door closing on its own. Confused, he slowly walks inside the castle, he sees beside him a fireplace with a lovely chair. “Hello?” He walks a bit more and looks up and sees the intricate designs of the castle “I’m just a traveler…seeking shelter from the storm.” he says, a bit defeated. His words echo in the seemingly empty castle “Perdon por molestar…anyone home?” he says as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack. The coat rack then discreetly looks behind him and shakes off some of the water off the coat to release some weight. However, in a corner at a small table a clock and candelabra stare at Mauricio. “Damn...he must have gotten lost in the woods…” The clock smacks him quickly “shut up you idiot” she whispers.
Mauricio then turns around confused, making the two stop moving. “Excuse me?”
He then slowly walks towards the table and looks at the clock. “Oh how beautiful…” He then peeks at the candelabra and picks it up “oh how extraordinary.” Music from a piano starts playing, which makes Mauricio turn around and gently place the candelabra back down on the table. Mauricio then fixes himself and walks towards the music.
“Ooh he got some taste.” 
“Relax, he was talking about me.”
Mauricio then approaches the room where the piano was and sees it playing on its own. “Oop-” the piano says as it stops playing. Mauricio looks at the piano in awe and confusion and stutters a bit over his words. He turns back around to where he originally was and goes to approach the chair by the fireplace. “Well now, wherever you are…I’m just going to sit down and warm myself by the fire. 
In the distance there was some clattering which caught Mauricio’s ear. He quickly walks towards the noise as well to find himself in a dining room that had food by a chair. “Oh, muchas gracias…I couldn’t thank you enough.” he immediately sits down and starts eating, savoring the foods and flavors in his mouth. Then as he ate, he saw a cup on a small plate slowly approach him and he looked at it in utter awe, shock, and fear. “Daddy says I wasn’t supposed to move because it's scary…..sorry” says the cup in a little girl’s voice.
Mauricio’s eyes bulged out in shock as he quickly replied “its…it's alright…” 
He then bolted out of his seat, walking as quickly as he could to the entrance “I…uh. Cannot humbly thank you for…for your hospitality” he says while taking his coat and putting it back on. “But uh it seems to me that I…uh well. Bid you...adieu…” he says with a bow while opening the door. “And uhh…good night.” He slams the door walking as fast as he could, not knowing that someone was watching the whole time. Outside, the storm has stopped, and Mauricio quickly goes to Felipe and mounts him. With a quick thwip from the reins, Felipe galloped into the gardens. “No wait, stop, stop, stop.” The horse stops and Mauricio gets off “Roses…I nearly forgot...” He approaches the rose garden and notices that they were all white, “I promised mi niñita a rose...” Mauricio walks into the garden scoping a perfect rose for Y/N unaware of the owner lurking…watching him as he walks in the rose garden. The host quietly moves from one place to another as he sees Mauricio get closer to a rose. The horse starts nickering and whinnying in anxiousness, hoping that his owner would see his warning.
Mauricio then takes a look at one rose and smiles thinking about Y/N and brings his hands up to pluck the rose, but instead pricks his thumb with a thorn. The host growls as he sees Mauricio reach in again trying to pick out the rose. Finally, Mauricio with a smile plucks the rose for Y/N but instead hears a loud thud and a roar to see the figure in front of him. Scaring him nearly half dead and making him fall on his back. He whimpers in shock and tries to back up in utter fear “HOW DARE YOU STEAL FROM ME, I GIVE YOU SHELTER AND THIS IS WHAT I GET ?!”
Mauricio pleads to the monster in front of him. “N-no p-please, it was only a g-gift for my d-dau-daughter” he says while staring at him. “WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?” Mauricio stutters some more. “OH, I SEE...WE’VE COME TO STARE AT THE BEAST, HAVE WE?” Mauricio looks at him and stammers some more “n-no I didn't mean to offend. I-” A low emanating growl comes from the beast as he approaches him “CALLATE, YOU’VE DONE PLENTY…NOW YOU’RE COMING WITH ME” He takes Mauricio and drags him back inside the castle. Felipe whinnies and bucks his hind legs as he tries to get the reins off of him, eventually succeeding and running off back to the village.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later…
Ben is looking through a bush where some of the leaves have started goldening and falling off, while staring at y/n’s house. “...y/n is sure to get the shock of her life...” Ben nods at Eddie and looks at himself at the puddle next to him. “Oh yes Eddie, this is definitely her lucky day!” He looks away from the bush and turns around to see everything perfectly set up. He then clears his throat to catch everyone’s attention “I would like to thank all of you for coming to my wedding, your contributions are greatly appreciated…but now I gotta go in there and well” he clears out his throat once more “propose to the girl” he says with a chuckle. The guests chuckle and laugh as well unlike the 3 women in the corner who are weeping.
“Now you Eddie, have the most important job, when I come out the door with y/n...” 
“Yea I know, I’ll strike up the band” he says a bit disinterested. As he looks at the band and makes them quickly rehearse the wedding march. 
Back in y/n’s home however, she’s sitting on a chair happily reading her book until she hears a knock on her door. She approaches it and using her father’s invention to see outside, she notices it's Ben and she groans loudly to herself. “Ok…you can do this” she says to herself in a whisper as she opens the door. “Oh, why Ben... que sorpresa...” she says with a feigned voice of interest. 
“Why isn’t it, I'm always full of surprises,” Ben added. “You know y/n there isn’t a single woman in town who would be aching to be you right now.” Y/N backs up a bit “Oh uh…pero como?” Ben chuckles “Well, this is the day your dreams come true my dear...” he saunters his way more to get closer to her. “What do you know about my dreams, Ben?” He chuckled once more “Oh plenty, now here picture this.” He sits down on a chair and places his muddied shoes on the table. “A rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill...roasting on the fire, while my pretty little wife massages my aching feet, while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs” he says while looking at her with a smoldering look. “We’ll have six or seven...”
Y/N grimaces at his words and thinks at how unbelievably daring this man is right now. “Perros?” she asks with a pained smile. “No Y/N, strong boys like me!” Y/N rolls her eyes “you...don't say...” she says now looking for some sort of exit from this situation. “Now Y/N, who do you think that little wife will be?” Y/N’s eyes widen in horror and says “erm... Uhh.. let me think…” Ben interrupts her with a grin “Why, YOU Y/N.” Y/N turns away from him quickly and backs up to the door. “Ay pero, Ben I- I’m speechless..I.. well really don’t know what to say” she says as Ben approaches her with a determined look. 
Then, by using both of his arms, Ben pins her to the door with a winning smirk “say you’ll marry me then” he says as he leans in closer to Y/N. “Perdon Ben pero…I’m uh..I just...” Ben has leaned in close enough to kiss her. In a quick attempt, Y/N uses her hand to find the door handle and opens it, quickly moving out of the way, making Ben surprised and fall into a puddle of mud. 
Eddie on the other hand only hears the door open and signals for the band to start playing. He then directs the band for a bit and then hears something moving. He turns around to see Ben completely covered in mud “soo uh…Imma take that as a no...” Ben, enraged, looks into Eddie’s eyes and mutters to him “I WILL have Y/N as my wife, make no mistake about that” he states, as he begrudgingly walks away in embarrassment from the rejection, he just took in front of his wedding guests. 
After the commotion dies down, Y/N peeks out of her front door and looks around “Is he gone ??” She looks down to confirm that Ben is gone and walks outside to feed her chickens “I can’t believe him, ME? To be the wife of that headstrong, boorish, conceited man.” She grabs the chicken feed and throws it everywhere in annoyance “imagínate, señorita riley, just imagine, his little wife.” She throws the bucket of chicken feed to the ground. “I need some place to scream.” 
A few minutes later she ran on top of a hill and layed in the field of dandelions. “My dreams? What does he know about my dreams… I want adventure, I want it so much that I can’t imagine someone else imagining it.” She quietly lays in the grass for a while longer and plucks a dandelion and blows it, watching the seeds spread in the wind. “I want so much more than this tiny village,” she says to herself. “If only someone could understand...” She sighs and closes her eyes, taking in the air from her surroundings. She inhales once again but then stops as she hears whinnying in the distance. She turns around and gets up as she spots Felipe in the distance. 
“Felipe, I- what's wrong?” She looks around to see that there was no wagon and especially her father. “Dónde está papá ?” she says as she tries to calm down the horse. "Where is he Felipe, what happened?!”. 
She took hold of his reins and frantically responded “Please, we must go find him, Take me to him !!” She takes Felipe back home quickly to grab her cloak and to replace the horse’s broken reins. Once she does, she mounts Felipe and takes control as she rides out to the woods to find her father.
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taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @corpsebridenightamare, @m4dyy,
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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year
Note
Admiiinnn do you write for platonic sagau?
Me wanna request my son (Razor) ue.
Because most of the fics I've read is just the creator falling on Mondstadt but never other places! I want them to fall on Wolvendom and maybe meet the wolf boy 🐨
I imagine he doesn't know/able to describe what he's feeling (not understanding human emotions and stuff because he grows up with wolves and all). But he really likes this feeling of peace and feeling like he belongs! So he'll stay with this random person that just dropped out of nowhere, and teach them how to survive in the wild too!
Unlike the overly-obsessed-head-over-heels acolytes, I think Razor will be like a worrywart bestfriend. You're his lupical now! It's his duty to protect other lupicals!
Days with him will literally be so fluffy ueueueu imagine we teach him how to cook things besides meat and puppy-paw hash browns (and teach him how to season them too! Good food always relies on taste after all). He'll just be like a little sibling that saw a very cool trick for the first time.
Aaaaa I wanna braid his long hair with flowers ue...
a request. A REQUEST. FIRST GENUINE REQUEST!! WOO!!!
AND A PLATONIC ONE?? 🥺 FOR THE BOY??🥺🥺THE MOST BOY IN ALL OF GENSHIN IMPACT???!!💖💖💖 YOU 🤝 ME = OUR LOVE FOR LIL ELECTRO FERAL PUPPY BOY
U get a whole slice of cake for that one. 🤲🍰💜
DUDE i totally thought abt (idk if u read it but its floatin around here smwhere,,) including Razor in the first Sagau idea post i made about Blunt Language reader vs. Teyvat's flowery language
TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!! I WILL DO MY BEST FOR THE BOY 💜✨️🐺
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This gif encompasses everything i feel abt razor
Almost a part 2? But more like Bennett ft. Razor
Welp, you could've landed somewhere worse.
Like, accidentally-activated-Andrius-challenge worse.
You vowed to urself that if u ever got isekaied, or magicked away, or whatever else, u would not be those stupid protagonists who acted like they didnt know where they were
Or didnt adjust quickly to their new surroundings, esp if theyre life depended on it
U got this, u know exactly where u are rn. >:)
...
..Well, maybe not the exact location, but Wolvendom was pretty hard to mistake for anything else
The moon is full, and it looks to be about midnight or so,
A wolf howls.
...a little too close for comfort...
But hey, the lamp grass irl was so cute and pretty omg! <3
And it lit the ground nicely when u were nearby :) what a helpful aesthetic plant, so cool
Seeing a hilichurl camp further away, u slowly backed off into the woods away from the path u landed on (woke up on? Its unclear)
And up onto a small flat cliff thingy, filled with small lamp grass
U figured u werent getting anywhere tonight, i mean u rlly can't see jackshit rn, unlike in Genshin where the moon was almost as bright as the sun 💀
So ur just sittin on ur ass, wondering how tf ur gonna build a wolf-proof shelter when a bush shuffles nearby
...On ur little platform, how did u not hear whatever it was before now??
Too late now, bc u saw smth silver, and welp
U knew there were wolves, (its wolvendom)
But since u never saw any in game u kinda assumed they were like Earth wolves and were unlikely to get near a human like u-
Turns out u were probably wrong- the silver flashes in the bush- u get up and brace urself to run screaming and begging on ur knees for Andrius to take u in like-
.
..
...?
...Razor?? 😐😑😐
...
RAZOR!! :D!!!
It's the Best Boy™️!!!!!
The bestest boy ever sticks his head out of the bush
!!!??? His head tilts like a puppy in confusion ur heart💘
"...Lupical??" He says in the most confused ass tone youve ever heard
🥺
"Oh! Yes! Hello," you introduce yourself, "Can you help me? I got kinda lost here, but I don't really have a home to go back to,,"
Razor stands out of the bush, shaking his head back and forth like a dog, his hair nearly whips u in the face lmao
You: "AHH- uh- so, do u know somewhere I can go??"
Razor: "Mhm. Here. Razor like you, feel like Lupical. Stay?"
He asks, his eyes bright and shiny (not the puppy dog eyes)
Well, u figure if he can literally be raised by wolves and still be alive, so can u
(U figure itd be hard to convince Diluc to let u stay w/ him, and u dont have money for an inn in Mondstadt.. u dont even kno abt Springvale... wolf woods it is)
Plus, maybe u can help him out a bit! (it always did irritate u in game that nobody rlly checked on him/helped him live better >:/ )
"Oh! Y-yeah! That sounds great, are u sure ur family's- uh- other Lupical, r ok w/ that?" U hella dont wanna have to wrestle other wolves just for some raw food bc yall gotta share 💀
"Yes, come, I teach!" :D
___
AND SO BEGINS UR ADVENTURES WITH RAZOR
Bbyboy got ur heart in a vice gripe lol
Turns out he lives in a cave, that wasn't rlly available in game
His bed is just kinda,, moss and leaves, maybe one fur pelt
So obv u start gettin chests and get money to buy him better stuff!
Plus monsters drop money too (the slimes just bring u money?? W/o u having to defeat them?? Whos paying all these monsters anyway, where do they get this money-)
.
Also bc i HATE that u r just a regular ass human in other SAGAUs, imma keep it canon and say u can still upgrade Vision Users/Allogenes + all the regular game mechanics besides time manipulation, including quest log and inventory (bc that still exists here fuck regular sagau BS)
(bc how would u prove ur the Creator otherwise? How would u live up to that if u didnt have powers?? Isnt that the whole point of why they think ur the Creator???!! Did I miss smth here-??)
.
So ofc u give the boy the comfiest bed of pillows and furs and handmade quilts (Springvale's very talented and friendly turns out :)
And new clothes!! :D new outfits pop up on his character screen!! (It just kinda,, hovers like a hologram screen in front of him when u click a button u see hovering over his chest at all times)
.
U also teach him how to comb his hair.
(J. F. C. I dont even wanna think. abt how bad it is, a kid raised by wolves, in the woods w/ little human contact?? ill leave that to ur imagination)
He really loves the lamp grass flowercrowns u make him :) <3
.
Also yes.
We have to talk about it.
U got him soap.
And perfume. (That are still scented but not enough that he hates it thank fuck-)
.
Razor seems like he'd react to everything with either worry for ur safety (BEST BOY EVER) bc sm stuff u do is unfamiliar to him,
OR just like u said anon, like a little sibling u showed a magic trick to for the first time <3333
.
Like?? U can?? Use salt?? Pepper??? On food??? That u have cooked???!!!
Omg, his grubby little hands snatch that shit outta ur pan so quick 😭😭
He's literally scarfs down anything u make him
Oh god the wolves.
If u thought Razor loved ur food, the Lupical pack is on a whole different level.
They're such sweet doggos bc ur technically Lupical now too (Razor gave u a tooth necklace like his :] )
!!! PUPPY PILES !!! 🤲🐺💖💜✨️✨️✨️
And theyre never violent, even their play fighting is pretty tame
But the food.
Ur seasoned. New recipe. Food.
The first time u made a new dish with salt alone
It was a fucking free for all. (including Razor😭)
.
So now u have a schedule of who gets what when (as insisted and aided by Andrius himself, it got so out of hand,, paw??)
Congratz u got a pack of little siblings now, w/even the "will be bribed w/any food u give them" feature too
.
Razor loves u sm, he feels so safe around u!!
He usually cant articulate it, but u can tell by how he clings to ur arm whenever yall go into human towns so he wont lose u,
Or how he'll offer u some of his portion of food always (even if u made it)
.
and he's happy to do all these new things w/ u !!
(i sure as fuck know id get bored af if i was just,, in the woods,, all day everyday,,, not even a book to read,,,)
So needless to say he joins u for nearly everything u do
Esp monster hunting/grinding for his artifacts + weapon + stuff
Razor sees it as his job to look out for Lupical, esp if his favorite (besides Andrius) has to leave pack territory
.
Also yes, u DID meet The Andrius.
He was. So much. Bigger. Than you. Expected.
The game doesn't do him justice.
He's literally the size of a fucking school bus.
Also, apparently Razor didnt rlly know what u were, mostly bc he just feels ur comfort and safety, no words needed
But Andrius does, and he immediately explains how Teyvat sees u and even does a wolfy bow with his head lowered onto his front paws (ahdkala Andrius pls ur a gOD GET UP)
He's also surprisingly helpful and nice to u, very polite big doggo, a good leader (alpha??)
.
Lisa is hella grateful for u and all the help/care u give the bestest boy ever
(even tho u did give her the stink eye at first bc,, why didnt she teach him how to take care of himself? And even if he didnt want to join human society at least make sure he's in liveable conditions?? Hes not even an adult???)
But at least she also agrees he's the bestest boy ever, she always brags about how quickly he learns language (both writing reading and speaking) to anyone she knows
Which did endear u to her a little more (plus she apologized for not looking out for him more, or at least asking someone else to/check up on him)
.
U kinda think she (and the rest of Mondstadt) dont really realize ur some kind of Creator god,
Mostly bc u dont really stay in Mondstadt long, just to get essentials and see what it looked like in person (smtimes to visit Bennett and Fischl :D )
(U mostly only know that bc Andrius claims its so, hes very insistent too)
But ur spending most ur days with Razor anyway so it doesnt matter to you two whether ppl know what u can do
.
Razor was practicing his writing one time (bc u also help him out at home/Wolvendom when Lisa isnt)
And he carved "Razor loves Lupical and [You]" into a tree near yalls cave
:')
🎵 JESSSSUSSS CHRISSSSTTT THIS IS TOO LONGGG
BUT I DONT FEEL LIKE EDITINNGGGGG🎵
I didnt know where to end it i got sucked in dont LOOK at me-)
Uh anyway i hope this was adequate!! Sorry this was ungodly long!! I will limit myself in the future 🥲
Tysm again for the request and if u read this far LMAO!!
<3
Cheers,
🌒🌊🌧Aquarius ♒️ 💧🌌🌘
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bettyfrommars · 5 months
Note
Hi Betty! For your requests could I get a little Bitch Whatever in winter with hybrid Steve? I’m missing my monster boyfriend.
Or if you’re not feeling that, then maybe some holiday fluff with either of the biker boys? You can pick which one.
Whatever you feel most inspired for. Thanks, have fun writing! ♥️
Gia! I love these options, and I will for sure do some holiday fluff with our biker boys as well. This time, I chose hybrid!steve. I hope you enjoy my dear friend.
hybrid!steve x fem!reader
18+ONLY, hints to monsterfucking but does not actually happen, drinking blood, being chased in the woods, mention of a gun shot, Steve is part vampire/part wolf. I wrote this really fast, it was so much fun, and it has not been proofread.
wc: 884
The snow was coming down in thick, soft flakes, and your windshield wipers were flapping when you heard over the car radio that a woman was almost attacked by a wild beast. She said it had the body of a wolf, but it stood on hind legs.
You yanked the steering wheel, tires spinning to a halt in the gravel, and then turned the volume up with the knob on your dash.  
“Please, no, baby, no…” your whisper trailed off.  The radio announcer continued to say that the beast in question was still on the loose, and hunters were out looking for it that very moment, all eager to collect the bounty on its head.  
Frantically, your eyes searched the dense woods to your right, and there were pinpricks of light from lamps and torches dancing in the darkness as groups of people trudged through the snow, trying to pick up on his trail.
You were afraid this would happen one day.  When the moon was full, Steve always cut through the forest to get to your place, and you wondered when the day would come that he might stumble upon a few campers or someone walking their dog on the trail that connected to a collection of suburban houses nearby.
He did not have much control of his animalistic urges in hybrid form, and you were relieved to know that the woman was unharmed.  Apparently, the beast she’d encountered lurched at her, but then her husband tried to take a shot at it with a handgun, but missed, and he was gone too quick for the man to even try another shot.
You wondered if Steve had been grazed by the bullet, if he was possibly wounded somewhere. You raced the final mile to your place, and checked to see if he’d made it back first before bundling up to go outside and face the elements, to hopefully find him before the hunters did.  You flipped your Christmas lights on and grabbed a flashlight from the junk drawer.  
Once you broke free from the cement path and into the thicket of trees, you heard a howl; it was the howl of a wolf, and it was not that far away.  
“Stevie?” You called in a strained whisper.  You could hear the voices of the handful of armed hunters echoing from miles away.  Your flashlight beam searched the snowy ground for footprints.  Or, paw prints, in this case. 
You’d forgotten to wear gloves and your nose was already frozen.  You pulled your beanie down over your ears.  
It took your eyes a second to adjust, but you swore you saw two yellow orbs glowing in the distance.  There was a growl then, low and menacing, and you feared suddenly that maybe Steve was not the monster the woman had seen, maybe there was something more terrifying out there, and perhaps you were in danger. 
Then, you felt the fur against the back of your hand and you knew he’d somehow come up right beside you.
You noticed the warmth first of his body heat first, like it was radiating from a furnace, and even though you knew it was him, you couldn’t help but jump back.
You tripped and almost fell, but he caught you, and with a grunt, he scooped you up into his arms before taking off at a run.  He was so strong, your weight was nothing to him, and you clung to his furry neck, eager to be close to him.
“I was so worried,” your voice vibrated in a strange way with the impact of each one of his steps. 
He only hummed and tightened his grip on you.  All of his focus seemed to be getting you both as far away from the woods as possible. 
Back at your place, he put you down on your feet gently, and then hid in the bushes before climbing up to the second floor.  
When he finally came through the window, you could see by the lights from the Christmas tree that his leg was bleeding.  He was weak and he needed to feed.  You were quick to take your coat off and sit on the couch, beckoning him to you with open arms.  There was never much talking when he was in his hybrid form, but you somehow always knew what the other was thinking.  
He dropped to his knees between your legs and buried his face in your chest first, mewing softly, like a wounded dog.  You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his head.  “Did those people scare you, baby?”  He clutched onto the material of your sweatshirt and nodded once.  
“Let me feed you, Stevie,” you lifted his face by the chin, letting your tongue feel the razor sharp edge of one of his fangs as you kissed.  “Let me take care of you.”
He nuzzled you from shoulder to neck first, licking and nibbling, softly whimpering until his lips latched on the perfect spot.  His fangs sank in fast and hard, and you knew it was better that way, better for him to penetrate quickly so that the natural pain killer in his saliva could soothe any discomfort.  You wrapped your legs around him and listened to the slurping sound with every pull as he drank from you.
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summertimemusician · 7 months
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Linktober Shadow, Day 4
Lost
I feel like we really need to talk more about how the Lost Woods are a concept as beautiful as it is terrifying actually.
Wild/BOTW/TOTK Link fans, this one's for you and brought by my severe sleep deprivation, enough caffeine to kill a grown woman with less spite and my medieval literature/narrative/poetry teacher who motivated me through the entire creative process via helping me throw ideas at the wall even as all of the essays I gotta turn in are going to make me late in posting Sage. *laughs hysterically, immediately collapses*
As always can be read as romantic or platonic, and it's up to interpretation what's going down on this one. And can also be read in or outside of an LU context, I'm leaving it vague both on purpose and because of sleep deprivation lol.
Of all places you could say you most intimately did not wish to be alone after being separated from the Chain, the Lost Woods of literally any era but specially Wild’s would definitely be on your top three at a pristine number one.
Really, if you weren’t currently being stalked through the darkened, shadowed weald of the once welcoming evergreen home of both the Minish and Kokiri, whom you knew could be much, much more beautiful lovely (it did aid in raising a good chunk of your beloved heroes, after all) and with your heart working with all the urgency of a wounded deer being chased by a wolf. You’d almost commend it for it’s choice in setting this time.
Keyword being almost, for it compared naught to the sheer and utter terror that burned through your every sinew, marrow and veins at the accuracy of that statement, and the implication that your nebulous and hauntingly familiar current hunter grew ever more clever each passing second of your adventure.
You ran, ran and ran through the living woods, trying desperately to find any possible landmark, an oddly shaped tree, one of the torches or the remain of the skeletons from the old, ruined iterations of the Temple of Time from long bygone eras that the forest had reclaimed, or the hint of the breeze soft whispers from the echoes of the Kokiri or the elated branch rattle giggling laughter of the Skull Children. At this point you’d take even the the mad, beast like howling of the Stalfos or the tortured wailing of Poes, somewhere between vesania tainted laughter and the primal, feral pleading for one’s survival that shook you to the marrow.
There was no such symphony now, the woods as silent as a grave.
(The hauting ground of so, so many that it did not love or could not hold onto anymore, whispered a corner of your mind, and it sounded like the Shadow, with it’s ominous phlegmatic hissing, twisted amusement and sadistic brutality all in one.)
Your arm had long gone numb, broken under the impossible force held by the beast of sulfur and obsidian that the world itself rebelled against warring at it’s very existence as it roared it’s wrath back at it, the Goddesses, Hylia and Demise and your heroes and princesses caught in the middle of divine design, your legs giving out under the weight of your exhaustion, you tasted copper from the wound on your head dripping down your lips but that did not stop you. Would not stop you, couldn’t stop you.
You grit your teeth so hard against the shout that wanted to tear it’s way out of your throat as you barely kept yourself from hitting your head, diverting your momentum against an old, lonely tree. Your blood sinking into the wood, good, better it than Dark Link.
You were tired, you were exhausted, you swore you could hear a growl among the melancholy of the mist. You hoped the shade did not manage to track you down as you made sure not to leave a trail of blood, but something tells you that it wouldn’t need it to track you even with the faint moonlight barely giving enough aid in your own quest to find it before it found you with your only, laughable weapon being an old arrow you’ve pilfered from a long decomposed corpse almost falling from your white knuckled grip.
You didn’t want to die, you needed to survive.
You though of the Chain, your lovely, chaotic, kind boys, of Sky’s ever ecompassing kindness and Four’s brilliant cleverness, Time’s quiet comfort and Legend’s fierce hidden gentleness and Wind’s trailblazing joy, Hyrule’s tender sweetness and Warrior’s warm protectiveness and Wild’s beautiful adoration for life.
You missed them, and it was likely you wouldn’t see them again, that more than anything hurt more than all of your wounds combined.
You try to push yourself up, to move, to live, to keep moving forward, caring not for the stillness of the glade. Barely noticing the sudden silence as you almost pitched forward once again, stumbling onto the earth as your grip onto your makeshift weapon finally gave out-
Only for a pair of arms to catch you, steady, magnolias and rosemary, petrichor from untamed, ancient Hyrule. A bright Sheikah cerulean tunic and a navy cloak falling over darkned boots.
You freeze, hands twitching, it couldn’t be an illusion. You’ve seen plenty in the corner of your eye as you traversed through the woods, attempting to lead you astray. None of them were solid, many of them weren’t quite as cold as this, whoever was holding you.
But it couldn't be real either, it shouldn't.
“Link...?”, came your tired rasp, you felt as if you’ve swallowed sand (briefly, you wondered if the taste of flowers on the back of your tongue mixing with the copper of the liquid of life in your veins was the reason. Then resolved yourself not to think about it), your traitorous body succumbing to exhaustion as the stranger gently held you up (friend, friend, but it couldn’t be, Wild tried to hold onto you, the memory of his desperation scorching under your eyelids like a brand and his howl of denial mixed with self loathing would haunt your for days to come, maybe months, he was far away and hopefully safe, it couldn’t be him).
The figure merely steadied you against themselves, silent as they swung you into their arms, you briefly struggled. It was instinct to put up a fight, to push against the liminal illusion cruelly meant to haunt your possible last moments as another soon to be lost souls chest, or heck for all you knew it could be the Shadow, dragging it out, playing with your torment as it gave you scraps of hope before taking it away. The figure paused, only to gently readjust you -painfully careful as the memory of the gentleness belonging to your Champion but oh so wrong made your heart ache-, the figure lowly speaking, their tone the emerald eternity of the kingdom’s fields and like setting stitches against your wounded self, like the soothing nature of early autumn rain. Almost a whisper, cracked like the wind through the leaves.
“... Rest. You’ll be alright.”
You wanted to protest, wanted to claw and fight and bite his throat off just in case even if you weren’t sure it would take, as with your head in the crook of his hood you couldn’t hear a heartbeat, but your exhaustion won out in the end. Held in the warmth of the sun over Faron Woods with the glimpse of fierce cerulean blue, the gaze of a reynard whom a part of you knew wouldn’t give you up without a fight and safer than you felt since getting pounced through that cursed portal.
When you next came to, it was to Wild’s frantic worry at the edges of camp, his hair like a frazzled shroud as he dropped everything in hand of his watch to check on your now wrapped wounds. Hugging you tight as you held him just as close back.
This time, you found a heartbeat, and you could almost weep with relief, and in the darkness of the woods a shrouded shade smiled.
Returning to the mist unseen and unheard. But content you were home.
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not-so-secret-nerd · 1 year
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Wenclair/Nevermore gang paintball headcanon
OKAY Y’ALL GET TO SUFFER WITH THIS TOO! 
@erzatscarlet​ and I were messing around with different funny ideas the Nevermore gang would get up to and paintball came into conversation. Let me start off by saying, I don’t believe Wednesday enjoys guns in any fashion. Not for moral reason (we know she’s short on morals anyway) but more for “practicality”. Guns are range weapons, and we know damn well Wednesday Addams wants to get up close and personal with her victims. 
So yeah, no guns. BUT! We both agreed she’d be one hell of a marksman thanks to target shooting for fun and being freakishly good at it.
SO, one late fall afternoon, Wednesday agrees to go paintballing with Enid, Yoko, Bianca, Ajax, Xavier and the rest of the Nevermore gang. She DETESTS sports of any kind but enjoys the idea of "hunting". She agrees on one condition: she's allowed to do her own thing and belongs to no team. A rogue agent. They all agree after making her sign a contract stating she won't actually KILL ANYONE or cause SERIOUS BODILY HARM ON PAIN OF ENID AND HER BREAKING UP. Wednesday agrees (begrudgingly) and they all head off. 
The tourney ground they choose is in a heavily wooded area. They get there, get registered, get suited up, and disperse. Enid sticks with Wednesday until she slips away into the woods and the game gets under way. For shits and giggles, the group decides to just do elimination rounds and it's all super fun at first. 
Ajax and his boys get ousted early on. Xavier is a little better and stays in by the skin of his teeth. Bianca's got grace and speed and manages to stay in for longer than expected. Enid is a fucking werewolf and fast as fuck. Yoko is ass-old and knows all kinds of tricks, so by the end of things it's just the four of them trying to pick the other off. No one's really notices Wednesday's missing until Xavier's shot in the back of the helmet with crimson red paint. It's enough of a blow to knock him over (you don't shoot for the head) but he's out and grumpy about it.
Bianca’s next. She's crouched in a really good location behind a crop of trees but she feels the stinging snap (and if you’ve never experienced a paintball exploding against you...it’s hell) of a paintball hitting the side of her neck. Crimson red. She out and pissed.
Yoko's stalking Enid who's gone mostly wolf. She's fast but she's not exactly quiet. Not like a vampire, anyway. Yoko spots the blonde slipping through the underbrush and quietly puts her gun between the V of two trees and takes aim. Just before she can line up the perfect shot at Enid's ass she's shot in the armpit. Crimson paint. She's out and howling cause that fucking hurt and who the fuck uses paintballs the color of blood?
Enid, ears always perked, hears everyone get eliminated. With a little mental math, she's able to figure out it's just her and Wednesday who, up until now, hasn't shown herself or gotten hit. It's almost like she disappeared. Enid knows better and goes on the prowl, looking for a scent. It's sort of cheating but hey, she's a wolf. It's in her nature to hunt. 
Slowly she creeps through the playing field. She thinks she catches a faint, familiar scent somewhere near a shallow gully filled with rotting, fallen leaves from the pervious fall. She THINKS she sees something that looks person-shaped crouching low among the underbrush and pounces before it can get up and run, lighting up the area with paintballs. No dice. It's only an old tarp stuffed with leaves and moss to look like ....WAIT! 
She feels it then. The muzzle of a gun tap the side of her helmet. She freezes. Looks to the side and sees fucking WEDNESDAY ADDAMS IN A GHILLIE SUIT WITH HER FACE PAINTED IN CAMO COLORS GIVING HER SUCH A SMUG HALF-SMILE ALL ENID WANTS TO DO IS THROTTLE HER AND KISS HER IN EQUAL PARTS. 
 "All's fair in love and war, mi loba." 
 AND SHE FUCKING SHOOTS HER GIRLFRIEND POINT BLANK.
Game. Set. Match. 
Wednesday rises victorious among a crowd of angry friends all baying for a rematch. Enid is both furious and hellatiously impressed. Wednesday owes her Starbucks after shooting her in the head. Wednesday replies that to the victors go the spoils. No one knows what she means, but no one really wants to stick around a find out. 
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rotworld · 1 year
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Lance's Pack: The Hard Way
an anon asked:
Lance being slightly delusional. Love me some slightly crazy mean wolf! What is he delusional about??
and i'll admit i got a little off-topic lol but i still think this is a nice peek into lance through blake's perspective. the short answer is that lance has a strong fantasy about how the world works when it comes to the reader. the closer reality aligns with his fantasy, the smoother things go. but the more he runs up against resistance...
->lance/reader and implied blake/reader. explicit; contains noncon, knotting, feral behavior, werewolf-human power imbalance, exhibitionism/lance not locking the damn door, captivity.
.
.
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“Lance, please, please st…s-stop, I can’t—”
Everyone knows.
Sound travels better out here in the mountains. Voices carry. Little yips and barks from the woods drift down the slopes. Snow crunches halfway across the commune and Blake can tell it’s a rabbit. It’s the smell, mostly, but also the little skittered hops, the hiss of frost across fur. The quiet, the open air—he noticed that right away when he first set foot here. Wolves like Lance, wild all their lives, take it for granted. They don’t know the hell of the city. The noise, vicious and constant, the screeching and grinding and humming and warbling, all haze and headache. 
But out here, it’s different. He can listen and make sense of it all. The sounds of the pack are familiar, softer than even the quietest nights in the city. Basil slips on a patch of ice somewhere and Blake hears every second of it, the hitch of breath and the clumsy squeak of sneakers and the breathless “oh fuck” just before he lands on his ass. It’s utterly alien and it feels so right. The wolf in his skin has never been more at home. He hears everything, absolutely everything. They all do.
So everyone knows, because everyone can hear it: Lance is fucking the pack human.
It’s indistinct at a certain distance. The cabins aren’t soundproof but all that wood is a solid barrier and it’s only the harsher, higher sounds that slip through, pitched whimpers and moans. Blake has to get closer to pick up on Lance’s growling or hear the human’s pitiful mewling. A door slams open and shut, and then another. Max comes barreling out of the alpha’s cabin, nostrils flared. The door shuts on its own but in the moment before it does—
…gasping and panting and wooden, rhythmic creaking, a slow grind, the obscene squelch of cum stuffed beneath an engorged knot as the wolf rocks his hips and savors the tight heat milking his cock, Lance’s name spoken in a sad little croak…
And then the slam.
“You need to talk to him,” Max says through gritted teeth. He’s restless, pacing himself a trench in the snow with the corner of his lips twitching in a snarl. His shoulders are straining the seams of his jacket, muscles bulging mid-shift. He sheds his clothes in the snow as he mutters, “Doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing. There’s a procedure to this, a certain way to go about it. You go easy at first, y’know, that’s how we always did it. You gotta be soft but firm, and you gotta be consistent. Fucking punishment’s gotta fit the crime.”
“What happened?” Blake asks.
“Pack human’s skittish.” He says it with such fondness, his gaze softening for just a moment. “Fucking obviously. They always are. He wants ‘em to address him properly and they won’t, because they haven’t learned yet.” He tugs the laces of his boots and kicks them off before he shucks off the last of his clothes, fur already bristling along his spine. He shifts, not fully wolf but beast, hunched and amber-eyed with white puffs of breath blooming around his maw. “You’re the beta,” Max rumbles. “Talk some sense into him.” He lopes for the treeline. Going to patrol, probably, maybe for a hunt or a run, something to work off the anger. He hears a howl and a chorus in the distance, answering.
Blake closes his hand around the doorknob and hesitates. He can hear just about everything from here, and the sounds are different now. Softer. Slow, muted movement, the whispered slide of palms along a broad expanse of skin.
“Blake,” the alpha says, his voice sharp like a whip even muffled through the door. “I hear you out there.” 
No more stalling, then. He turns the knob, stomps the snow from his boots on the porch. He thinks briefly of the quiet again—how strange it is here, of all places, where there should be half a dozen wolves in the communal space talking and roughhousing and making a mess of the rugs, but there’s nobody around. An empty mug. Cards abandoned on a table. Did Lance tell them to leave, or did they go on their own? Blake rights a fallen chair and slides it back into place as he passes through. The floorboards creak under his slow, cautious steps, following the stench of sex, the whispers and weeping.
The alpha’s in his room. The door’s wide open and the pungent odor of sweat, cum and human fear makes a heady cocktail that sends Blake’s heart racing. They’re on the floor. He sees the human first, the shine of sweat on their skin. Kneeling, forced into a pose of presentation, hips raised and cheek pressed against the hard floor. Their arms are bound behind their back with Lance’s belt and they’re shivering, their shoulders shaking with sobs so quiet Blake is certain a human would never hear it. They look at him with bleary, feverish eyes as though newly woken from a nightmare, uncertain of him. 
His alpha gives a roll of his hips and the human whimpers helplessly, their whine caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. They move with him. Knotted, Blake realizes. The room feels hotter suddenly.
“Well? Here to ‘talk some sense into me?’” Lance asks. He’s quiet, keeping his voice to a soft, gravelly murmur despite the sharp edge to the words, and his hands are gentle. He’s caressing the human, rubbing his hand up and down their back. His fingertips graze the edge of a fresh, oozing bite on their nape. He’s only half-naked, shirtless, his pants loose around his hips. This was impulsive, Blake thinks, the product of an argument. It’s so strange to see the juxtaposition between Lance and Alpha, both present in this moment. Lance, whispering soft, soothing things to the human, reminding them to breathe, and the Shelter Mountain alpha who looks Blake dead in the eye, unblinking, watching his every move. 
“Can I approach?” Blake asks. Lance would scoff at that. He hates the status shit. Basil drives him nuts everytime he shuffles up to Lance’s workshop and knocks and fidgets outside the door until Lance tells him to “just get the fuck in here, man.” There are no assigned seats in the dining hall, no need to wait for Lance before they can eat. But right now, things are different. Blake can sense it. The alpha studies him with narrowed eyes and a hand on the back of the human’s neck, squeezing gently in what’s supposed to be reassurance but he’s just scaring them more. 
“Depends,” Lance says. 
Blake leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. It’s utterly bizarre to be standing here, conversing with his alpha while he’s knot-deep in the pack human—or maybe that’s just his upbringing talking. Wild wolves are different about most things. Lance is radiating irritability but not embarrassment. The locks weren’t broken when he got here; Max would’ve just walked right in the front door. “How long?” he asks, nodding to the human. The poor thing can’t stop squirming and it’s tugging at Lance’s knot, making them both wince. 
“They have an hour to go,” Lance grunts. Like Max, the look on his face goes soft and wistful, his thumb massaging little circles into their shoulder. “I know it’s harsh, but I gave them chances. They’ve been belligerent.” The human shakes their head, sobbing quietly. The fear scent curdles into sharper distress and Blake lurches on his feet, drawn to it like a moth to flame. He catches himself halfway into the room, meeting Lance’s cold, appraising eyes. 
He swallows thickly. “Can I…?” 
Blake can see the shift when it happens. The moment when the human lets out a pitiful sound, a wet, shaking inhale, and Lance’s hard gaze cracks. It’s not pity, exactly, not regret. It looks an awful lot like happiness of some kind, a warped, cautious sort. Blake gets it, to some extent. The scent of prey, frightened prey, prey despairing and cornered, is appealing. They’re hardwired to like it. But this is something else. Lance buries his face against the crook and scents them, one side and then the other. Blake feels like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t. 
“Don’t spoil them,” Lance warns. 
Blake makes his movements slow and obvious. Nothing sudden, nothing that might startle the human or worse, Lance. “This is harsh, don’t you think?” he says quietly. The human peers at him cautiously, cheek damp in a puddle of tears. “If any of us made the same social infraction, we’d get a reprimand at worst.” 
“They were reprimanded,” Lance says, speaking with that same sweet fondness. “It wasn’t enough.” 
The human flinches when Blake crouches in front of them. Poor thing is freezing, gooseflesh all up and down their arms. He lays his hand on their head and just leaves it there for a moment, waits for them to realize he isn’t going to hurt them, and gently strokes their hair. “I know,” he coos, “this is all new and scary. But it’s alright. You’ll get the hang of things around here. Do you think you could call him alpha, just once? It would make him happy.” The human doesn’t respond. They look at him with wide, watery eyes and Blake smiles reassuringly, wiping a tear from their cheek. “Just once,” he murmurs. “And then you can have something nice. I’ll take you on a walk. I don’t think you’ve gotten a proper tour of the place yet.” 
He risks a quick glance at his alpha. Lance stares back, his mouth a thin line, but he hasn’t stopped him yet. He must know, Blake thinks. He knows he’s being unreasonable, knows he’s going too hard on the pack human. But he can’t seem to stop himself, either. “Go on,” Lance says quietly. His thumb traces the shape of his teeth in their skin. “Say it, and I’ll let you go.” 
Blake considers that he might’ve made things worse. Not just the alpha bearing down on them now but him, too, pushing while they’re still so sad and broken, shivering and trapped between two wolves. But he can tell he’s on the right track. He hears it; the flutter of their heartbeat settling slightly, more hopeful than afraid. Their shaky, shallow breathing. Their mouth opens and closes again soundlessly, their voice hoarse, just a miserable little wheeze when they try to speak. It takes a few tries. 
“…alpha,” they whisper. They can’t keep looking at Blake and that’s okay. He doesn’t stop petting them as they squeeze their eyes shut, taking another deep breath to steady themselves. “I love you, alpha.” 
Blake stills. He smells a fresh bloom of arousal, sees Lance’s pupils dilate. “Good,” Lance says. There’s a tremor in his voice, something bubbling just under the surface. Something dangerous. “That’s good. Very good. We could’ve avoided all of this if you’d just said it back to begin with. Remember that.” He squeezes their nape again and the human shivers. “Knot should go down in a minute or two, and then you can go.” He nips their ear, one last warning. “Be good,” he murmurs. “I’ll know if you’re not.” 
They’re looking at him. The pack human, with their big, sad eyes. Blake swallows thickly. He smiles, strokes their cheek, and they lean into his touch. There’s a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and heat. A coil of lust tightens in his belly as the cold wetness of the pack human’s tears gathers on his palm. Lance tugs at his belt, loosening the leather strap until it falls in a clattering heap to the floor. The human whines in relief, their arms falling limply to their sides. And he’s so gentle when he’s the one who did this to them, so tender as he lifts their hand to his face and kisses their wrist. He scents them again, his eyes shut in tranquil contentedness, and this is all so much worse than Blake thought.
Lance holds their hips to keep them still as he pulls out. His knot is still half-engorged, a slow trickle of cum sliding down their inner thighs as he leaves them empty and whimpering. But he doesn’t let them go. His claws sink into their hips when they try to move, reopening old half-crescent wounds. He drapes himself against their back and his cock, already hardening again, slots between their quivering thighs. “What do we say, hm?” he murmurs. “Gonna show me some gratitude?” 
The human is quicker this time. The pause is short, just long enough for them to swallow, to inhale sharply, to bite back a sob. “Thank you, alpha,” they say. Lance presses a kiss to the bite. Blake watches with wide eyes but he has to look away when Lance’s gaze lifts, his expression shifting quickly—a thoughtful frown to a sneer. 
Because he can hear everything, especially what the human can’t. He can hear Blake’s pulse racing, how his breath quickens. He can hear the low, involuntary rumble of wolf who sees something enticing and decides in that instant that they must taste it. Blake doesn’t look at his alpha, but his alpha knows. Blake excuses himself quickly with some feeble excuse about waiting outside. He rushes out of the cabin and down the front steps, and then he leans against the door and watches his breath turn to vapor. He takes several deep, sucking breaths, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to think of anything but the pack human and how sweet they sounded. 
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Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic won’t be a continuation of the muggle au because I have started turning that into a fic and I don’t want to spoil anything 👀 So, instead, for the prompt wilderness I’ll give you...some angst?
He runs through the forest, the scent from the vegetation, of game, of the rain that fell earlier makes his adrenaline surge. He knows these woods, knows them well, even though he hasn’t been here for years. But tonight, tonight when he woke up in the clearing he felt like home.
The Wolf stops, suddenly, sniffing the air. Underneath it all, underneath the smell of the woods, he senses it. It’s been twelve years but a Wolf doesn’t forget, not something as important as this.
Pack.
He throws his head back, howling towards the moon, and then, as a faint echo he hears it coming back to him. The Wolf acts on pure instinct, setting off through the wilderness, and then suddenly he’s there, back in the clearing where he had woken up only this time it’s not empty.
The big black dog stands in the centre of it. He looks different, scruffier and thinner, not the strong canine with silken fur that he remembers, but with grey hairs around his muzzle. The scent is the same though, and the Wolf can feel his heart beat steadily behind his ribs.
He walks closer, the dog lowering his head, a low whine emitting from him before he lies down, rolling over, offering his throat up in submission. The Wolf can feel something inside of him, rage and betrayal and hurt, but those are all human emotions and they don’t matter now. They don’t matter because the Wolf is in control and he sniffs over his mate, feeling the familiar scent of him surround him and that’s all it takes.
He nuzzles against him, nips playfully at his ears before he throws his head back and howls again. The dog scrambles up on all four, mimicking him, and it’s as if the twelve years since they last saw each other doesn’t exist.
The night is young and they have hours still. They run and chase and wrestle and play - the forest belongs to them and only them. They don’t return to the clearing until dawn, the Wolf staggering into the centre of it, dropping down with an exhausted sigh. The dog doesn’t follow, merely watches from a distance as the transformation takes over.
When Remus comes to, he shivers in the cool air. His body is aching from the transformation, but aside from that he feels calm. It’s an unusual feeling, he can’t remember the last time he felt this settled after a full moon. He reaches into his own mind, tries to access the memories of the Wolf, but as always he gets nowhere. The last thing he remembers is apparating here, the one place he had been avoiding like the plague since Halloween twelve years ago because it was too painful with all the memories. But as soon as he had seen the headlines, heard the news, he knew this was the place he had to go to, even if it hurt. But it doesn’t feel painful now. It feels…safe. Home. 
He has the distinct feeling that he’s not alone, but when he looks around he can’t see anyone else. He makes his way over to the bush where he’s hidden his clothes and his wand, dressing slowly in the faint morning light. There’s a rustle somewhere behind him and he whips around, but he can’t see anything but a flash of black fur. A rabbit, probably, daring to move now that the Wolf had finally gone. 
He needs to go back home. Dumbledore had sent him an owl, informing him that he would come calling. That they ’need to talk’. He hadn’t said about what but Remus knew. Dumbledore would come to him and ask him about Sirius, about what he knew about the escape, about where Black might have gone. But Remus knows nothing and the hole that opens up in his chest whenever he thinks about Sirius Black threatens to swallow him whole.
He sighs, taking a deep breath to find some strength within himself before he turns on the spot, disapparating with a crack.
He never sees the man hidden behind a tree where moments earlier the black dog had been. Black hair matted and tousled, yellowish skin stretched taut over sharp bones and grey, stormy eyes watching his every move.
 Remus Lupin doesn’t have the senses of the Wolf, and maybe that’s just as well.
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vickyvicarious · 2 years
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"'Ittin' of them over the 'ead with a pole is one way; scratchin' of their hears is another, when gents as is flush wants a bit of a show-orf to their gals. I don't so much mind the fust—the 'ittin' with a pole afore I chucks in their dinner; but I waits till they've 'ad their sherry and kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the ear-scratchin'. Mind you," he added philosophically, "there's a deal of the same nature in us as in them theer animiles. Here's you a-comin' and arskin' of me questions about my business, and I that grumpy-like that only for your bloomin' 'arf-quid I'd 'a' seen you blowed fust 'fore I'd answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic-like if I'd like you to arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me questions. Without offence did I tell yer to go to 'ell?"
"You did."
"An' when you said you'd report me for usin' of obscene language that was 'ittin' me over the 'ead; but the 'arf-quid made that all right. I weren't a-goin' to fight, so I waited for the food, and did with my 'owl as the wolves, and lions, and tigers does. But, Lor' love yer 'art, now that the old 'ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea-cake in me, an' rinsed me out with her bloomin' old teapot, and I've lit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you're worth, and won't git even a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions."
This whole little speech is quite interesting to me. Mainly because it goes contrary to the entire narrative's treatment of wolves so far. They have been depicted as monstrous wild creatures of the night, deadly and aggressive. They're foreign, they're 'other', rather mysterious. They vanish into the woods except when they're threatening you, although the howls can still be heard from far away.
And none of that is outside a popular conception of wolves. The fairy tale wolf, the livestock-eating wolf, etc., they're usually the bad guys. But the Thomas Bilder doesn't go in for that for even a second. Whacking them on the head with a pole aside, he does seem to have a love for/decent understanding of the animals under his care and he admits that there's nothing unusual or even really surprising in their behavior. They might snarl or growl or howl, especially when hit with a stick - but so did he, and giving him what he wanted bribed his complacency as much as it does them. They're like people in that way.
It's probably pretty obvious, but I just like that the negative portrayal of wolves isn't necessarily true. Left on their own they're normal wolves, but when Dracula is around and commanding them, then they turn into tools of horror. Because they literally are like tools to him. He doesn't manipulate them with threats or cajoling, he just has this supernatural ability to make them obey. And he uses them liberally, to kill or threaten people for him, to break in somewhere he can't... and then once he's done he drops the hold on their minds and lets them wander off.
Even the wolves near his home... what if they usually behave like normal wolves? For all we know, the wolf attack on the carriage with Jonathan was even ordered by Dracula as a nice little beginning terror before arriving to the castle. Certainly, without Dracula there to command them, Jonathan somehow escaped the mountain without getting run down and eaten despite being quite vulnerable and them being known maneaters.
Even if those particular wolves are considered irredeemable monsters, the keeper's reaction to Berserker proves that doesn't always have to be the case. Outside of Dracula's influence, they're just animals like any other. Like people.
Hey, he said it first. If you go with that comparison, well. I think the obvious interpretation, especially with Berserker returning sadly with a head full of broken glass, is simple: Dracula's presence and influence twists and warps people into something monstrous. Merely being around him is dangerous. As long as he is around you at all, tragedy will follow - even without direct intent to harm you in particular. He will use you however long it interests him to do so, and then toss you aside. Even if you do end up escaping his influence, you'll be left wounded.
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awakenthemusic · 1 year
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Suptober 2022 Day 28 - Animal
Short fic, 426 words, Angst
After defeating Dick Roman and getting sent to purgatory, Dean spends his time searching for Cas.
Under the cut or on Ao3
Animal
Dean trudged through the gray undergrowth as the weak light of purgatory slowly faded into dusk. 
Every day he circled back around to the clearing where he'd first landed here. Every day he picked another direction and set off, searching for signs of Cas.
Every day he came up empty.
He sighed, shifting his grip on the weird, improvised weapon he'd taken off the last monster he'd killed. The balance was all off and the teeth it had in place of a blade were next to useless, but it was all he had.
He scanned the trees around him for a somewhat defensible position to settle into for the night. Daytime in purgatory was dangerous enough, he did not want to be caught wandering around when the strange gorilla-wolf hybrid animals roamed the woods at night, their eyes glowing with an unearthly light.
Dean found a large boulder that would offer shelter through the long, cold overnight hours and leaned against it, letting his senses expand to monitor his surroundings.
He took a deep breath and fell into the routine he’d established that second night he’d been stuck here. Hey, Cas, Dean prayed silently. I looked for you to the Southwest today. I have no idea if you are even anywhere near where we crash-landed… 
Dean rubbed a hand wearily over his face and swore, Shit, I got no idea if you’re even… if you can even hear me, man. 
Where the hell are you?
The grip of his blade creaked in his tightened hand and Dean had to force his fingers to unclench. I’ve been out there every day looking for something, some sign that you’re alive… some sign of where the hell you went. 
I’m running out of places to look.
I… I’m all alone out here, man, Dean shook his head, horrified to feel his eyes stinging with tears. I need… If you can hear me, I just need to know that you’re okay… 
Despite the danger of making noise, Dean couldn’t help whispering the next words out loud, Just be okay… please.
Dean cleared his throat as he fought back the part of him that strained to hear the flap of wings.
Well, if you can hear me, I’ll make my way back to the clearing tomorrow. I’ll try Northwest this time just in case… Dean shook his head to clear the nightmare images of Cas’ broken body sprawled in the undergrowth.
He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and settled in for the night as, somewhere in the distance, something howled.
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theofaluvsviolet · 6 months
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Elden Ring One Shots | Enira (My Oc) Meeting Blaidd
•They’re not couple just bffs. Enjoy I guess. I’ll post more if I get likes.
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Meeting Blaidd
After Enira spoke with Kalé and learned how to call the creature that howls in the mist woods, she headed atop Torrent to the inside of the woods.
When arrived to the ruins she tried to be as careful as she could, so she would not make loud noises and wake the rune bear that was sleeping near the basement. Fighting it in case it would wake would be foolish and stupid but yet she felt still curious to see who was there. It could be an enemy. Or a new fighting partner.
When she reaches the ruins, at first glance she sees no one. Just the mist and the ruins. All she does is to quietly wander around, holding her staff ready to throw magic. When she hears that howling again, she snaps her fingers and calls to the creature that howls.
When she does that the howling stops and this creature jumps down to the ground. In the other side of the ruins she sees a tall half half wolf and half man person, with a scar on his face, with fur on his back, fully armoured, carrying a huge sword on his back.
At first she considers him hostage so she approaches slowly towards him. But when she takes a better look and gets closer to him, she understands that he is not attacking.
Enira:Um... hello?
Wolf Man:Who goes there?
Enira reveals her hood and shows her face to him.
Enira:I-uh... sorry for disturbing I heard the howling yesterday and I wanted to check on the area.
Wolf Man:Kalé sent you did he? Ever the bloody busybody...
Enira:Oh, it's alright. I'm not up for trouble. I guess that curiosity took the better of me and him.
Wolf:Hmm... maybe to him you don't seem so strange.
Enira wonders why he would say that and how she would seem strange, but says nothing. She just awkwardly stands there before him, with nothing else to say. She even considers to leave, until he speaks to her again.
Blaidd:The name's Blaidd.
Enira:Uh-Enira. Tarnished, quite plainly. What's with the howling?
Blaidd:I'm looking for a man who goes by the name of Darriwil. He fled somewhere nearby. Or so I've heard. Come tell me if you find him before I do. I can offer you ample award.
Enira can see the rage in Blaidd's eyes, so she understands this is about an enemy. She cannot help but wonder why would he seek for a man with that kind of strange name but she knows it is none of her business so she just asks other questions.
Enira:Alright, I will. Never heard of him. We didn't have the luck to meet. But from your looks I already see that this will not be a friendly meeting.
Blaidd:Darriwil is nothing but a traitor. And in need of a fitting end to his tale.
Enira:Very well... I'll keep that in mind. I have to go now... goodbye.
And so Enira, after summons Torrent, rides away from the most woods before a rune bear finds her, leaving Blaidd behind. At first, the half wolf warrior found the young tarnished strange but at least a woman of reason. Most people that came across him sought a fight from first sight and they could be nothing but hostage. This woman did not seek for a fight though. She was only curious. Only time will show if she will help him or not.
After killing Darriwil
After the fight and the defeat of this Darriwil, Enira and Blaidd encounter each other out of the opened now evergoal, both joyed with with the feeling of victory in their hearts flowing through.
Enira drinks her healing potion so that she can heal the wound in her chest and gives it some time to heal and stop aching.
Now that Blaidd has seen Enira's magic he starts to realise that she is not a weak girl that he thought she would've been. She is surely a lot stronger than she looks. She handles the enemy with her mind better than he could.
Blaidd:Ahh... right. There you are. Had to work for it, but it's done.
Enira:Yeah. I'm happy I helped. This mongrel obviously had no time outside of this cell.
Blaidd:Haha... you're tougher than you look. Even if you're carrying stuff instead of blade. I don't judge. My mistress has a stuff for her work anyway. And she's still doing great.
Enira:Oh... good. I needed another short fight after my break.
Blaidd:Don't say I'm not a man of my word. Here's your prize.
Enira then is given by Blaidd a somber smithing stone, which she takes and accepts gladly, with a grateful smile.
Enira:Thank you!
Enira puts the stone inside her backpack and she takes out her riding ring to leave the area, before Blaidd tells her anything else.
Blaidd:Oh yes... I should say. If you venture north to Raya Lucaria and come across a venerable blacksmith who's a little on the large size, tell me I sent you. I'm sure that he will treat you right. I owe you one I reckon.
Enira smiles again and responds, thankful for his rewards.
Enira:Oh... thanks! I am actually going to Raya Lucaria. It's where I'll find the next part of my mission.
Blaidd:That's enough chit chat for now. It's time we parted ways.
Enira at first finds this a little rude but she pays no attention nor takes it personally. She just summons Torrent, so she can go where she is heading.
Enira:Alright... it seems that Kalé is not the only busy - buddy...
And then she rides away with Torrent, leaving Blaidd with a good first impression. Such a wise and strong woman could take part in an important fight again with him. She is helpful after all.
So yeah. That was it. I was bored so I made it. Please Like, I guess so I can post more of it :)
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maryannecrimsworth · 1 year
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Deal
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Guide for tormented hearts
Pairing: Enid Sinclair x OC! Hank Hunter(L/N)
Summary: Enid can't wolf out. She managed to hide it from Wednesday and her parents in the last two months, but now she's back at the school and every fur is excited to transform together. For the first time in years, Nevermore hired a tamer to train werewolves — no more lupin cages, they'll learn to be free. Every werewolf want to break free in the woods, but not her. Enid wants to run away, until the tamer goes after her.
Warnings: crying; emotional breakdown; werewolves fighting; Wednesday's threats; stabbing
Backstory for the "You do need a friend", Hank is Y/N's older brother.
Scenes from Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of The Hunt [Ao3]
X
"Would you help me escape? Just for tonight." Enid whispered to Thing, who gesticulated readily in response. He suggested a way that, in addition to getting her out of school, would keep every student away from her.
"I can't! I don't want to lose my fingers for touching her clothes." The werewolf replied. Disguising herself as Wednesday wasn't a good plan, and even if it was, the werewolves of Nevermore would notice Enid's absence.
She needed to wolf out, she needed to meet her pack, she needed to be normal.
Enid threw herself back on her bed and sighed loudly, her conversation with Thing had ended in weariness and disappointment — but it wasn't even able to disturb the girl on the other side of the room.
Wednesday used the space on the side of her desk to hang a kind of mystical periodic table, with anecdotes about its substances and the potions that could be created. All of her attention was focused on the plants, roots and powders which could've composed Thornhill's potions.
Enid turned her look away from Wednesday and grabbed another stuffed bear of hers. She started to scratch it with her claws while her thoughts flew between countless situations: from her pack transforming without her to her mother discovering that she hadn't wolfed out in two months. The last two nights of full moon, spent at the Addams' house, served to remind Enid that she was called a "late bloomer" for a reason. Three stuffed animals had already gone bald when a knock came from the door.
Enid ran to the door and turned on the bedroom light before opening it. Neither she nor Wednesday had noticed the dusk.
"Hi?" She opened the door only enough to show her face. Hunter was waiting for her in the hallway of Ophelia Hall, hands stuck in his pockets and face turned red as if he wasn't allowed to be there.
"Hey." He replied in the same low tone as her. "All Furs have already gone to the woods. Are you coming?"
"I-I…" She checked the empty corridor and closed the door behind her. "I can't wolf out." She lowered her head before saying: "I'm sorry."
"It's okay." His voice made her look up again. "I can help you. I mean, I still have a few hours until the pack's meeting. Would you come with me?"
Enid followed him right away.
The night was cool and windy, the light spring breeze was lifting the leaves and ruffling the branches of the trees around the school. In the distance, you could hear the high, harmonized howls of werewolves. The Nevermore's packs had met and now they ran and fought through the forest. They were all there, with their claws and ears out, and Enid was here: sitting on a fallen log with their new handler in front of her. She felt bad for taking the time of the tamer.
"You know, this won't work. I'll just hide somewhere else and you can go meet them." Enid opened her eyes one more time and interrupted Hunter's speech. Even him looked annoyed by her behavior now.
"Just do what I tell you. If it doesn't work out, I'll take you shopping. Deal?"
"Deal."
"Close your eyes and breathe." He whispered and she obeyed. "Tell me how you first wolfed out. What happened?"
"Wednesday was in danger." Her fists clenched on her knees. "It was a red moon night. Thing came and told me and I just ran." She heard no more howls now. "She was in danger and I…I"
"You were afraid." His voice sounded like a continuity of her thoughts. "You needed to protect her."
"Yes."
"But you're still afraid. You are afraid and Wednesday's safe now."
"I..I…" Hunter didn't rush her. "I fear her. I fear she will figure out I can't— I can't—" Her breathing trembled. "I can't be her friend to death. I can't be what she wants because I'm too much. I'm too much for her. I'm too much for a pack. I'm too much for everyone." The tamer backed up a few steps as she started crying. " I can't be a werewolf. I can't be normal. I can't be as my mother wishes — I will always be alone!" A dozen branches broke together with her last words. Her speech grew and strained until a loud growl snapped out her lungs — she wasn't speaking, but howling.
"Follow my voice, Enid." The werewolf crawled in her four paws, her fangs and hot breath almost hitting Hunter's face. He lifted his hand to the pink fur on her head.
"You are a werewolf. You have a pack now. You are not alone." She grunted and leaned in towards him. "Open your eyes."
Her reaction was as lively and animalistic as possible: she jumped on the man, hitting him with her paws and licking his entire face. The tamer burst out laughing and stroked the werewolf's fur.
"Now go." And Enid followed the howls of the Nevermore’s pack.
The running and playing of the wolves kept half the school awake: every student who had forgotten his noise damper at home now suffered from the lively nature of the packs. Enid howled, fought and ran as much as the other Furs. They all came together and followed the tamer, enjoying his snacks, orders and games. His clothes were already torn and his feet already ached when three wolves stayed behind. Hunter called them, but they kept still.
He soon saw the wooden shed they surrounded.
"Hey!" he shouted as soon as the three started attacking the small construction. "Stop." But the wolves continued scratching and kicking the hut.
Hunter took a whistle from his pocket and blew it: all the canines in the area heard his command, and yet the three werewolves did not stop. Their attacks became more violent as other werewolves approached. He had brought the whistle to his mouth once more when a blow struck his back. The tamer was thrown meters forward, bursting through the doors of the shed and smashing the trestles and paintings inside it.
"ENOUGH!" he shouted, but the wooden boards continued to fall beside him — and, once all construction had been knocked down, the werewolves advanced on him. The only thing that kept Hunter from being bitten and scratched was the pink wolf's attack.
The werewolves rolled over the wreckage of the shed, the three tallest and strongest united against Enid. They roared and attacked her, their fur and ears raised as if the pink werewolf was a terrible threat.
The she-wolf stopped in front of Hunter, ready to stop any attack from reaching him. The werewolves were ready to fight — but a clap broke the sound of loud roars and splintered wood. Suddenly, all the wolves were quietened by the sound of the tamer's hands clapping.
All the furs froze and sat.
“Enid.” He spoke between heavy breaths. “Find it.”
The werewolf started to sniff the ground under Hunter’s feet, tracking down the scent that made her mates violent. The object dug up by the she-wolf was small, fragile and smelly: it caused the werewolves to howl and grunt again, but still sat due to the tamer's command.
It caused Enid to wince, grunt, and return to her human form in loud cries.
It was a teeth necklace.
X
Enid was laid down on her bed carefully and slowly.
Her previous state – scratched and bloodied – was replaced by a clean, disheveled, and tired appearance. She was fine, but she was wearing clothes that did not belong to her and her face was swollen from crying. The only thing that guaranteed her peaceful sleep were the dirt-soaked hands that guided her back to her room. Hunter took to himself whatever panic and nausea Enid had, and laid her down on the bed in her dark room.
He didn't even remember her roommate until his legs failed.
"What have you done?" Wednesday required in a dark voice once he hit the ground. 
"I could ask you the same." He grumbled from the floor, his slurred tone and speech between clenched teeth announced the kind of content he had delivered to her. It was the necklace Thing hid in Xavier’s shed, Wednesday intended to keep it in there until she figured out what was her stalker intentions. "Shit." Hunter grunted in pain.
"How d—"
"It has your Thing's scent on it." Just the remnants of the necklace's smell left on his fingertips was enough to twist his stomach.
"What's happening to you?" 
"I took her malaise." He whispered. "She needs sleep more than me." 
"Leave."
"I can't." He tried to move, but the creaking of the wooden floor created a minefield to Enid's sleep and well-being. "I can't barely see you, just pretend I'm not here." 
Wednesday grabbed his shoulders in a burst, feeling the dirt, blood, and sweat pooling on his clothes and skin. The rips in his coat caused her to touch his wounds unintentionally — and Hank desperately ran away from her hands.
But it was too late: now Wednesday fell beside him and felt all the pain he was bearing.
"Fuck, Addams. Couldn't you have just stood still?" He dragged himself a few inches closer to her, just close enough to hold her hand. The ache and nausea left her body slowly. 
Wednesday jumped away as soon as she regained her strength. "Are you a healer?"
"Sort of." He barely had a voice now. "Where did you get it? "
"It's none of your business." 
"That thing almost got the werewolves to kill each other. It is my business." 
She didn't need to answer him. In fact, Hank, now completely defenseless and weak at her feet, was the perfect suspect for her interrogation.
"I'll ask the questions now." She knelt beside Hunter, her hands and lips purposefully close to his face.
She could hear him swallowing dryly. 
"Speak." He commanded, his voice firm despite all the weakness in his body.
That only made her hate him even more.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the inuit's cursed child." Hunter admitted. "Born from a Kigatilik, I was left in the woods to die."
"And the Hunters have found you."
"Yes." She didn't understand the reason behind the sudden flaw in his voice, like a sob escaping from his heavy chest.
"Why are you truly here?"
“I’ve already told you, I came to—“ His breathing failed once the cold blade touched his neck. 
“The truth.” Wednesday reminded him. Hunter scoffed quietly and lifted his back, the knife being pressed against his skin because of his movement. He supported all his weight on one arm, leaning in forwards Wednesday. 
A drop of blood ran down his neck.
“I came after Hyde.” The knife was forced with more intensity. “ I came to tame him.”
“It can’t be tamed. It’s a beast without conscience.”
“But Tyler can be.” Hunter suddenly took the blade from her hands and sat in front of her. Their knees touched and the closeness allowed them to finally see each other's faces. Wednesday had a serious, determined look - ready to attack him if he became a threat; and Hunter, wounded, dirty and sweaty, had a steady posture, immune to Addams' intimidation. He could have easily stabbed her. “ Where did you find the necklace?”
He handed the knife back to her. 
“Buried in the woods.”
“You shouldn’t have dug up. It’s a beast trap.” Wednesday watched Hunter speaking. “Lead and an adrenaline trigger. It could kill you…and Enid .” Wednesday looked up at her roommate’s bed: she didn’t know how dangerous that scent was to the she-wolf.
“You can keep it in the greenhouse. It won’t affect no one there.” Hunter lowered his face. “I have to stay here until the smell’s gone.”
“Thing.” Wednesday delivered the necklace to him, who didn’t complain. He too wanted to keep Enid safe. The hand left the room and Hunter and Wednesday were now alone.
“I don’t trust you.” She roared.
“You shouldn’t.” He looked up at her again. “But we have a common goal. Don’t you think it is wiser to work together?” 
“I don’t.” 
“Then do it for your friends.” Hunter replied in a sharp voice. “I want to keep them safe as much as you do.”
Wednesday stood up and walked to her bed. The moonlight invading the room illuminated her back and stiff steps. 
"I see you everywhere." She whispered. " It's disturbing."
"Our leads go the same way. " He tried to stand up, but his body was still too heavy. He remained kneeling in the middle of the room. "Let me show you."
She turned her face slightly in his direction. 
"Okay. "
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motorcyclebucket · 2 years
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Wounds (1/3)
Part 1 of Bites and Blood! i hope you all enjoy!
(warnings can be found here, along with the other parts)
Words: 2642
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Part 1: Wounds
Camping trips were supposed to be fun. Hikes in the woods were supposed to be fun. How could this time be any different?
The woods became a sort of retreat for you after you moved into the manor. As per Mark’s request after a near death experience with an ex partner who practically got off scot free, you had moved there for safety. You were thankful for Mark, he was like the older brother you never had.
Sure, it was a bit of a drive, but reaching the spot was amazing. You set up your tent a few feet away from the woods in an overgrown but open field, an amazing view of a small lake from some cliffs was just a 20 minute hike away, what more could you ask for? A 3 day retreat by yourself, what could go wrong?
On the day of arrival, you did the usual, set up the tent and area for a campfire, set up your food somewhere any wandering animals couldn't get it, start a fire, and get comfortable. 
The fire crackled in the night, light smoke and embers floating into the dark night sky. A makeshift cooking grate held some food you were cooking over the fire, you sitting nearby on your phone.
“I’m not even sure how your phone works all the way out there. Are you sure you’re ok out there by yourself?” Mark asked, looking slightly concerned. “There's a cell tower a few miles away. And yes, I'm sure I'm fine. I've gone camping by myself tons of times, I’ll be fine. Plus,” you said, pulling the revolver Wilford had given you out of its holster. “I got this.” you reassured, giving him a small smile. “Are you absolutely sure-”
Mark was cut off from a crash sounding in the background, followed by shouts. His face went from concerned to annoyed as he looked over. “Oh, Goddamnit, not again- Listen, just call if you need anything alright?” He said, you chuckling at the chaos you thankfully didn't have to hear in person. You nodded, bidding him farewell for the night.
Your first night went smoothly, Getting almost a full 8 hours. The next morning, you packed up a travel bag with a few snacks and some water, along with your camera and phone. The 20 minute hike was definitely worth it, large smooth rocks jutting outwards leaving a breathtaking view of the sides of large hills that were just short of being called mountains. Down below was the lake, light reflecting off of it in ripples. You sat down close to the edge, not close enough that your legs would hang off, but close enough that you could see over. 
Taking out your water bottle and camera, you took a sip of the now lukewarm water before setting it back down. Turning on your camera, you lined up a few shots of the hills, the clouds behind them a dull gray color. ‘Hope it doesn't rain,’ you thought to yourself. Looking down over the edge, You watched as some deer wandered along the lake's edge, one of them stopping to take a drink from the water. As you aimed your camera down at them and zoomed in, each of the deer raised their heads as a noise came from the woods behind them.
A loud howl caused a few birds to fly away from their spots in the trees. A moment later, the deer ran off, hoping to save themselves from a gruesome death via the claws and teeth of a wolf. Breathing out and furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, you lowered the camera in defeat. 
As time passed, you photographed the area around you, the way the trees blew with the wind, the way the water of the lake below rippled, and the way the clouds sat in the sky as they moved in, their dull gray darker as light thunder rumbled. ‘Shit.’ you thought. ‘I might have to cut this trip short.’
You began your trek back to your campsite, checking the weather on your phone, only to see that the next few days would be rainy. You didn't recall seeing it when you first checked. 
As you reached the Campsite next to your vehicle, you began packing up your things, deciding to head home early. “Stupid weather.” you mumbled to yourself as you packed up your tent, a light drizzle beginning to fall. Right before you picked up your tent bag, a low growl was heard from the neighboring woods. 
Standing from your crouched position slowly, your hand reached for the revolver. Lighting struck in time with thunder, allowing you to see what was stalking you.
A large wolf, teeth bared with its muzzle and claws covered in a fresh coat of blood. 
It was bigger than any wolf you had seen, possibly twice the average size of one. You kept your feet planted, attempting to reach for your tent bag slowly so you could take it and leave. Whatever kind of wolf it was wasn't having that, growling at any movement you made. You cursed at yourself for leaving your bag with your devices in the car, along with your jacket as the rain poured down harder. As you stared down at the animal, you realized something.
It wasn't going to let you leave without a fight.
Right before you could raise the revolver, it launched itself at you, knocking you down by your shoulders. You landed with a grunt, tightening your grip on the gun. As you raised it, it growled, latching its teeth around your shoulder and under your pit. You let out a strangled yell as you did your best to aim at the wolf, letting off three shots at its head.
It seemed to falter a bit, releasing you from its teeth as it shook its head. You flipped yourself over onto your stomach, scrambling to get away. As you stood, the wolf, in an attempt to get its fleeing prey, slashed its claws across your side. Standing shakily and standing, you aimed your gun down at its head, letting off the last three rounds on unsteady feet. It stumbled for a moment before collapsing, blood pouring from its head. Panting, you slid the revolver back into place, picking up the tent bag before tossing it in your vehicle as you sat down, breathing.
After a moment, pain began to consume your side, the adrenaline wearing off. Blood seeped through your now torn shirt. Grunting, you grabbed your sweatshirt that sat in the passenger seat,having to tug it out from under your things, tying it so the main shirt covered the scratches, the sleeves resting on the other side. Your shoulder on the same side hurt like hell when you moved your arm, so you opted to use it to apply pressure to the wound. Turning at an awkward angle, you picked up your phone, trying to call someone, anyone that would pick up. 
As it rang for a few moments, you slid it onto your dash as you started the engine. You needed to get back to the manor now. You needed to see Dr.Iplier as you as you could. You stared at the dirt road as it changed to pavement, seeing your hand that gripped the steering wheel. You couldn't tell if the blood was yours or the wolves.
“(Y/n)?-”
“Mark, hey man uh-” you said, a strangled grunt leaving you as blood soaked your sweatshirt and hand. “I’m uh- I’m coming back early,” you said, seething through your teeth. ‘Just a little longer,’ you told yourself. “What? What happened, you sound like you’re in pain- wait are you driving right now?”
“Yes I am- just- make sure Doc is ready for me when I get there ok? There's, god, there's a lot of blood-” you chuckled breathlessly. You could hear frantic footsteps and Mark’s shouting, things beginning to go fuzzy as you shook your head. You needed to stay awake. You had to stay awake. 
You found the manor, doing your best to neatly park out front, the rain hitting the windshield mixed with your beginning to cloud vision wasn’t helping. You stopped the engine as you parked, not even bothering to take the keys out as you opened the door, stumbling as your feet hit the ground. Dr.Iplier was at your side immediately, helping you into the manor and to his office- that was really more of a walk-in emergency room mixed with a clinic than anything- shouting at the other egos to either get out of the way or go out and get your things inside.
As you were being laid down, your vision went fuzzy, black spots clouding your vision as you passed out
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You didn't know how long it had been. Maybe it had been hours, maybe it had been days, you had no way of telling. As you did wake up, you could hear soft typing occasionally followed by scribbling. Blinking away the sleep as your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over. Dr.Iplier typed away, writing down something on a clipboard. He glanced over at you, doing a double-take as you opened your eyes, standing up to come to your side and help you sit up slightly.
“Didn't think you’d be awake this early, you were out for a few hours. How’re you feeling?” he asked, clipboard and pen in hand. “A lot better than I think I should,” you responded, going to rub your head but wincing at the pain in your shoulder. “How long was I out for? I lost a lot of blood.”
“About 19 hours, The guys were worried, even Dark,” he said, writing a few things down. “I’m going to keep you here for another hour or so, if that's alright?” he asked. “I just want to make sure everything looks good before I send you off.” you nodded, him asking a few more questions.
As time passed, Some of the egos popped in to check in on you. Right as you were about to leave, fresh bandages over your torso and shoulder and instructions to take it easy for a bit, the door opened again, Dark standing in the doorway.
When you first met him, you were intimidated by him. But as you got to know him, you learned he was actually a big softie who loved sarcasm and had a temper. You gave him a weak smile as you stood, Dr.Iplier making sure you didn't fall over as you walked to the door. You thanked the doctor for his help, beginning the walk back to your room, Dark following beside you in a silent escort.
And then came the hardest part of all of this. Stairs. Right as you held the railing in an iron grip, you felt a gentle hand carefully your hip and other hand. Looking over, Dark gave a small nod, silently telling you he would help you up the stairs. Walking on flat ground was ok, stairs were a different story. You would have to stop every few steps to catch your breath and try not to focus on the sharp pains you felt on your side.
Dark was patient with you, letting you go in your own time. Stopping with you each time you needed a break. Once you reached the floor, Dark let go of your hand and hip, letting the hand that was on your hip hover there as he walked you down the hall to your room.
“Thanks for the escort, Dark,” you said, giving him a tired smile. You may have just slept for 19 hours, but you were exhausted. “It’s nothing,” he responded, his usual booming voice was quieter. “If you need anything, you know where I am.” and with that, he walked off, probably back to his office to do… whatever it was he did in his office. You weren't really sure what it was.
Carefully, you sat down on your bed. Looking over, you saw your phone had been plugged in and cleaned off of any blood that may have gotten on it. Your bags sat on the ground next to your bed, your holster with the revolver sitting on top. The gun hadn't been cleaned, the wooden handle that had been engraved with a little mustache was caked with now dried blood. 
You sighed, reminding yourself to clean it when you woke up- hopefully tomorrow you wouldn't be so tired. Laying down carefully, you shifted for a few moments to get comfortable, falling asleep.
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A few days later, you were somehow back in better shape than you were before the attack. Dr.Iplier saw you walking back up to your room from the kitchen, plate in hand. “Hey, (Y/n), could you come here for a few minutes?” he asked, you nodding and following him into his office. Setting down the plate on one of the counters, you sat down on the table you were bleeding out on not too long ago, its surface now clean.
“I just wanted to know if i could take a look at the scars, possibly get a few images of them to put on record, if that's alright?” he asked, holding up a clipboard as you nodded, rolling up your shirt just enough so he could see the claw marks that left scars down your side. “The bite marks barely left any scars. They don't hurt and it's not very noticeable,” You said, him nodding while writing a few things down, taking out his phone.
“Are you alright with me taking a few pictures of them? Just so I have something to reference back to if any injuries happen over them.” he said, you nodding and sitting up straight as he took one from your side, clicking off his phone and sliding it back in his pocket.
“How have you been feeling?” he asked as you rolled your shirt back down. “Fine as of recently, no discomfort when I walk either.” you responded, his face morphing into one of confusion. “Really? None at all?”
“Nope. I feel fine,” you said, him scribbling something down. “Alright then, I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing before,” he said as you stood, grabbing your plate and happily walking off. He scribbled a few things down on his clipboard, underlining a specific sentence.
‘Talk to Dr.Schneeplestein’
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Night had fallen on the manor, Some of the egos already having gone off to bed while others lounged on the couches or recliners. You stood, stretching before a wave of weakness flowed through you suddenly, causing you to stumble slightly, but keeping yourself from falling.
“Woah, you alright there, (Y/n)?” Illinois asked, as you steadied yourself, shaking off your uneasiness. “Yeah, I'm fine, just a little dizzy is all. Probably just tired is all.” you said, making your way to the staircase. “Was headed to bed anyhow. See you guys in the morning!” Leaving the ego downstairs.
Less than an hour later, loud thudding could be heard from upstairs, the three remaining egos- being Wilford, Illinois, and Bing- looked up. “The hell was that?” Bing asked, Wilford standing up. “Probably Dark getting upset again, I'll go check in,” he said, vanishing in a moment's notice. A few minutes later, he reappeared, looking slightly distressed, which was strange for him. 
“Everything alright?” Illinois asked as Wilford looked over at him. “They’re gone.”
“Who’s gone? Dark? I thought he was in his office-”
“No it’s- it’s (Y/n). They're just… gone.”
The three rushed back upstairs, finding your door ajar, claw marks on said door along with the walls, your bed disheveled and your window open. As they all looked on, they had one collective thought between them.
‘Shit.’
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that's part 1! i hope you all enjoyed!!
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hmspogueobx · 9 months
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Sunshine and Pine
Chapter Five: Pit
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The heavy rain from this morning has turned the air misty, and all I can see from my kitchen window is fog. After watching Aunt Sue drag a half-asleep Seth around the kitchen all morning, insisting he learn this stuff so he can treat a women right one day, and sitting down to a family breakfast together, my shirt is now fifty percent water as I scrub dishes in the sink, mostly staring out the window pondering life.
I'd been cautiously excited when moving to LaPush. Knowing I needed to get some space from my trauma, but also, change is freaking terrifying. But never had I imagined life would take such an amazing leap into wonderful territory.
It's in the middle of this daydream that a howl resounds somewhere deep in my bones, making the plate I'm holding clatter to the bottom of the sink.
My head whips around to see Leah and Seth behind me. They're both standing at full attention. Something about the sound of that howl has all of our hackles up, and we all break for the backdoor and into the woods. The sound of clothes ripping echoes around me and then my mind is flooded with images. Horrible images of bruises and pain. Someone's head is being ripped off. I see a baby, but it's not quite a baby. It looks normal and innocent, but then all of a sudden its eyes are bright red and it's the one ripping people's heads off.
It takes me a while to sift through it all and put the pieces together.
Jacob is talking to Bella, his eyes fall down to her stomach which has ballooned out and is more black and blue than not. Bella tells him everythings going to be alright. Edward says he can kill him. Bella rubbing her belly and smiling. The Cullens are arguing "The fetus isn't good for Bella!" Alice hisses. But Jacob is looking at Bella, she's trying to mask her wince. "It's just a little baby!" "Possibly".
Possibly.... Possibly. What is growing in there.
That's when the rest of the pack's thoughts start to chim in. I can feel everyone's rage. Everyone is seeing red. We're all running towards Jacob. We're breaking through the treeline and I still haven't decided how I feel about this.
My head turns towards the big black wolf as Sam starts to talk through the mindlink.
"We have to protect the tribe. What they've bred won't be able to control its thirst. Every human will be in danger."
"We're ready" "No time to waste." Everyone starts voicing their approval.
Everyones getting ready to go kill Bella like right this second. The cloud of outrage surrounding me is making it hard to make up my own mind. I keep sifting through the memories Jake showed us, but the one that keeps coming back is Bella, holding her belly and gazing down at it, so much love in her eyes.
While I've been processing, Jacob has charged off. I don't even realize that I'm slowly retreating until a massive gray head is whipping in my direction.
"No" Paul had been so consumed by everything he hadn't tuned specifically into my mind until right now. "Lucy, you can't be serious."
"I can't do this Paul. WE can't do this." And my mind is flashing back to that loving look in Bella's eyes. "It's just a baby."
Paul echoes the words we heard in Jake's memories. "Possibly."
I haven't stopped inching backwards while we talked and my feet squish into the dirt of the forest floor.
Every part of me is pulling in a different direction. My body seems to be moving of its own accord, drawing me towards Bella. My mind is trying to tell me that I should never leave my pack like this. THEY'RE my family, not some band of silverspoon leeches.
My heart and my soul are the only two working in synchrony. Screaming in desperation to stop moving away from the gray wolf in front of me, the emotion in his eyes completely human. The minds of everyone else are obviously still there, but I can't hear them anymore. All I hear is Paul. He seems to be going through a similar battle to mine. Up until he felt me retreating, there wasn't a doubt in his mind on what was happening. Honestly, there still wasn't. But he could feel his very soul dragging her feet hesitantly through the dirt. Moving further and further away from him. He was battling between the outrage that his partner and packmate dared defend the enemy, and the dark pit that sank deeper and deeper in his chest with every inch I retreated.
We'd obviously been physically apart before. But this was more than that. This was physical, mental, emotional and everything in between. The imprint embedded into our genes wants to reach out and smack us both upside the head, shove us back together. But we've never been so far apart.
"Bella hasn't done anything wrong. Jacobs right, our protection applies to her too." The words pour out of my mouth without thought, as if I'm running on autopilot. Like a puppet on a string. The pull - correction, the vicious clawing - to run back to Paul's side seems to have no say here. That pit that Paul could feel, starts to unravel in my chest too.
"Come on Lucy, tell me you aren't that stupid." And that's what does it. I can feel that Paul regrets his words immediately after he's thought them. But that's the tricky part about sharing thoughts... Everything is always out on full display.
The image of my wolf form turning full tilt into the forest, clouded in pure agony is all I see in my head as the trees rush past me. The farther I go, the deeper and darker that pit sinks into both of us.
The last thing I see before my link to my pack is severed, is everyone else watching as the fight leaves Paul's body, and his naked body slumps to the ground. His hand is clutched to his chest like he's trying to keep the pit from consuming him whole.
It's not until I see the Cullen's house peeking through the greenery, that I allow myself to stop running and collapse into a ball of fur in the dirt.
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meadow-dusk · 2 years
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Rocktober Challenge 👻 Day 15 - favorite drum harmonica part
>> disclaimer I am doing absolutely whatever I want 🙃
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I didn't want to do this whole challenge and never have a chance to talk about this element of Neil's music character. It's a part that didn't appeal to me on its own immediately, but when it did, I felt it take root somewhere in the base of my heart, crawl up the sides, and start to form cracks in it, like vines in the side of an old building. His playing is so incredibly emotive, evocative of nearly as much expression as his voice alone. I can almost see him in my mind when I hear him play this instrument, along with whatever other imagery the tone carries...which, in this case, is a lot.
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The comfortingly repetitive musical backdrop of this song transports me to somewhere quiet, safe, untouched. In this version especially, the harmonica is the unadulterated sound of longing for that place, that sense of serenity, oneness with nature, respect for life. It seems like nearly every second that Neil isn't singing here, he's playing it, and it carries all the emotion in the lyrics seamlessly into wordless sound. The dynamics of the entire song seem to be almost at its mercy when it cries out like the lonesome howl of a wolf, or bobs on the air like the sweet melody of a songbird. The way he changes the strum pattern during the harmonica breaks gives them a sense of patient urgency, like a careful predator stalking its prey in a steady run through the woods. But it all fits together, as perfectly as the cycles of all life in nature. That gorgeous yet desperate sustain during the break before the last verse is everything. His whole self (heart, soul, and lung capacity) is poured out in that moment. If you listen with your eyes closed and hold your breath for as long as he's blowing and you somehow don't feel a catch in your throat, congratulations. I have never been able to do that.
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lechangelin · 1 year
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An Accord
Eponine had been standing by the South exit, just as Kaleb had described to her, staring anxiously at the clock. There were bags, signs of a scuffle, but otherwise.... There was no one there. Her heart raced at what that could mean, scared to be somewhere so quiet by herself after she was attacked. Sighing, she tried calling him, hearing the ringing coming from just outside of the hospital grounds, towards the woods. It was there she saw a small wolf, blue eyes staring out at her from the tree line, despite the snow. The blue eyes caused her to pause, swallowing as she tried to figure out what the animal was trying to say.
“Mon dieu, je suis stupide. Marshall, pardonne-moi....” She muttered to herself, heading out towards the tree line, towards the wolf. It let out a sorrowful howl, nowhere near as loud as the one she’d heard earlier in the night, and as she approached, she saw it was whimpering. Crouching down, she recognised the wolf from earlier that night.
“Sweetheart, I can’t understand you like this, and I can’t take you back to the hospital like this...” She frowned, shivering as she removed her coat, holding it out towards the wolf. It immediately began to growl, narrowing it’s eyes. “Non Kitty, I’m a friend. Your brother, I was to meet him. I give you milkshakes and food at the diner, remember?” The growling stopped, replaced by a whine, and Eponine teared up, fearing the worst. “Kitty, where is Kaleb?”
It took some coaxing, but soon she was able to get the shorter girl to shift, her coat wrapped around her as they moved back to the hospital. Kitty was still silent as she pulled at her bag, tugging some clothes out, growling when Eponine went to pick up Kaleb’s bag.
“They took him. Something in the snow.” She snarled. “I’m going after it.”
“Kitty, no. Not right now, it’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t fucking care. You can’t tell me what to do, I’m going to find the thing that took him and kill it.”
“And if something were to happen to you because of it? He would never forgive himself.” She said firmly, thinking of Basil, and how she never would’ve forgiven herself if he got hurt trying to fight for her. “Kitty... What happened? Is he....” She daren’t finish the sentence, and the glare from Kitty told her not to.
“He’s alive. I’d know if he wasn’t. He’s....” She trailed off, biting her tongue, not knowing who was around. “I can’t stay at home. It’s too dangerous. And I’m not leaving town without him, no matter what my dumbass boyfriend says.” Kitty knew the blood moon pack would be after her, if word had got back to them about everything that had happened.
“... I have an attic.” Eponine said, slowly. “You would have the whole floor to yourself. I would leave you be. Then when he is found, you can go if you still need to. But right now? We will go report him as missing.” As Eponine straightened up, Kitty grabbed her arm, glaring.
“People can’t know. Trust me.” Pulling Eponine frighteningly close, she whispered into her ear. Eponine closed her eyes as she listened, a shiver running down her back, and slowly she stepped back, nodding.
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