#if the next pack somehow is not about werewolves i will riot

[catscraftsandcommentary]

thoughts on tiny!Steve/werewolf!Bucky shrunkyclunky AU

Because I’m too fucking lazy to actually type it into a proper fic and edit it and do all the fancy-ness that it would take to, y’know, make it a properly written story.

SO

Vaguely fantasy/colonial setting, somewhere with lots of forests. Steve lives in a small town called - of course - Brooklyn, with best friend Peggy (local beauty and hell on heels.) Also with various non-friends Rumlow (sheriff), Rumlow’s minions, Alexander Pierce (mayor/governor of the area), and various townsfolk. Who often don’t like Steve because he’s constantly poor, constantly sick, constantly fighting and/or preaching about how their normal behavior is terrible.

Peggy thinks he’s great. Rumlow, who wants Peggy, despises him.

So at some point, Steve does something to piss Rumlow off more than usual. For a while, I thought about “stopping Rumlow when he won’t take ‘no’ from a girl at the local tavern and Steve reads him the riot act/starts a fight with him (these are pretty much the same thing, lbr.) BUT, sudden better idea, Rumlow comes up with some new, ridiculous plot to get Peggy to change her mind about him (never gonna happen, bro), but Steve ruins it somehow.

Like Rumlow commissions something for Peggy (clothing? art? jewelry?), but then extorts the artist to get out of paying, and Steve, who is PISSED, tells Peggy, who refuses the gift very publicly AND calls Rumlow a thief, extortionist, etc.

Hell. On. Heels.

So Rumlow immediately blames all his problems on Steve, and sentences him to banishment, permanent, on penalty of death. If he’s not out of town by sunrise, Rumlow will be glad to skip the wait.

Except oh yeah, Rumlow and the bros are going hunting tomorrow, leaving at dawn, so they’ll have to check in that Steve’s gone - and that Peggy isn’t hiding him - before dawn, so, y’know, he might want to get moving. 

Cutscene to Peggy’s house, where she’s trying to talk Steve out of a suicidal second confrontation with Rumlow, or a more political confrontation through Pierce (who did, after all, appoint the bastard), or whatever other dumbass, noble idea he comes up with. She makes him pack a bag (or more likely, packs one for him), and tells him to go straight into the spooky old-growth forest a ways from town. Not the nice, civilized woods where Rumlow et al usually hunt, or along one of the roads to one of the other towns, but 

“You head straight into the heart of that forest, Steve, because so help me, that is the only way you’ll be safe from him. And if you see any wolves - hell, if you hear any wolves - you say that Margaret Elizabeth sent you with a message for Natalia of the White Wolf’s pack. And that message is pay your debt.”

And no, she does not explain any of that to Steve before she bundles him out of her house and on the path to the forest road.

Oh, did I mention that, according to general knowledge in this AU, magic isn’t real, except for maybe small good luck charms and similar. Which plenty of people still scoff at. So telling Steve to talk to wolves is...suspicious.

Second aside, a while back, Peggy saved Natalia from an angry mob, took her family’s home, let her recover in her own bed, and then accidentally fell in love with her. Oops. Before, of course, Natalia had to return to her own pack. Now they have a secret on-again, off-again romance. (I haven’t thought about WHY Peggy didn’t just run away with Natalia immediately, other than it wouldn’t work for my story. Shh.) And of course, Natalia promised to someday do the same for Peggy.

Cutscene to forest, next morning!

Bucky and his wolf buddies are out cruising the forest, as you do, when they sense a Disturbance In the Forest *cough force cough* and decide to check it out. Upon smelling some humans they’ve collectively termed “those fuckers,” they decide to fulfill the threat they issued at their last meeting and be done with the problem.

Namely, they gave Rumlow and his crew the same ultimatum that he’d given Steve, except that Rumlow had a history of terrorizing and killing everything (and everyone) in the forest, whereas Steve just wanted to protect people.

They herd the horses and hunting dogs to the edge of the forest near the town, leave the bodies in a pile, and are ready to continue on, except...there’s still one human somewhere in the forest. And these shitty scumbags had been following their trail. Time to figure out what’s up.

They reach the edge of a clearing, and all the wolves sort of melt out of the undergrowth at the edges, while Bucky, in his big fucking white wolf form walks out to the edge, transforms, and then stalks out in his best Murder Strut (TM).

And yes, this is “built like a brick shithouse” Bucky from Civil War, and yes, he is entirely naked, and still covered in blood, so Steve’s brain goes immediately offline.

Steve backs up until his back hits a large tree, waving a large knife at this seriously threatening (but hot) impossible fucking being, because werewolves do not exist. Right?

Right?!?

Bucky just casually pins Steve’s arms over his head, disarms Steve and tosses the knife away (without even looking where he tosses it, which Steve finds inexplicably really hot), and leans in to smell him.

Now, when Bucky reached the clearing, he recognized from the scent that this was a potential mate for him - and possibly a very strong mate too. Mates, in their world, are more “you are compatible with this person” than “this is the only person you can ever love EVER” and the strength of the potential bond can vary as well. (Just like some relationships are stronger than others.) But basically, Bucky realizes that whoever’s in the clearing, they could be good together. They could be goddamn AMAZING. And yeah, he wants to smell some more of that.

Steve is...more than a little overwhelmed by suddenly having a giant wolf turn into the hottest man he’s ever seen, who’s now pinning him to a tree and huffing him, but he does manage “Natalia.”

At which Bucky choke-grunts. The fuck?

“I have a message for Natalia. In the white wolf’s pack. From Peg-from Margaret Elizabeth.”

Vaguely grumpy at not getting to nose up his mate, but also very curious as to where this is going, (because how does this tiny gorgeous human know his second or her mate? Yes, Natalia is Bucky’s second-in-command), Bucky finally lifts his head. “I am the White Wolf, and I speak for Natalia. What is her message?”

Steve stares up the man towering over him and snarls, “Pay. Your. Debt.”

Bucky grins, slow and wicked. “Gladly. But not here.” He steps back, lowing Steve’s arms, and then...somehow, suddenly, Steve’s arms are around his shoulders, his legs are lifted around his waist, and Bucky is cradling Steve to his chest while telling his pack “bring his things.”

And then everyone is racing through the forest, faster than Steve has ever seen anyone move before and what the fuck did Peggy get him into?

After an hour or two of running (being carried) through the forest, Steve finally puts his head down on White Wolf’s shoulder, tucks his face into his neck, and tries to rest. He didn’t get any sleep, he spent the whole night hiking through dark, unfamiliar forest, he’s pretty sure he can stop worrying about Rumlow hunting him down - in the most literal sense, yikes - he’s tired.

Also, being carried is kind of soothing. There’s a rhythm to it. And wolfman smells nice. Mm...

Bucky is perfectly happy to have his newly-found mate fall asleep in his arms, and he’s very loathe to put him down once the pack reaches their den. (I still can’t decide what I want the den complex to look like. A castle? A big house? A fort? Maybe it’s a cave system that has been smoothed out and built into like hobbit holes. Or the Holds and Weyrs from Pern.)

But he finally decides to lay Steve down, feather-soft, into his own bed and tuck him in warmly. After all, Natalia vowed to repay Margaret in kind for what she’d done to help her, and part of that had been sharing her bed. There are guest rooms, but they’re so far away. This is closer. Warmer. More convenient. Better for his mate. And he’ll explain everything as soon as he wakes.

Steve does wake up and demand all the details EVER, as well as actually meeting Natalia and hearing how she knows Peggy (to make sure that this “white wolf” isn’t making shit up). Bucky gladly complies. Natalia is more salty about it, but she deals.

Then Bucky commences doting on his new mate. While trying not to come on too strong. Mostly failing. He...may have left out the bit about being able to smell that they’re mates. So he’s just trying to keep Steve interested enough in werewolf life/forest life to stay there and not, say, ask to go back to the human world (or back to his town even) since Rumlow and his men are dead.

Steve finds everything fascinating, and since Bucky always responds immediately to his cues - verbal and nonverbal! - he doesn’t have a problem being wooed. He might even, actually, like to be wooed a bit faster. Or more carnally. Not that he knows how to hint that.

Peggy eventually shows up sometime and is cute with Natalia, aka Natasha.

Steve slowly settles into life as the Kept Human Boy of the most badass werewolf alpha ever, who loves his tiny feral little mate and WILL tear your throat out if you even look at him funny.

#stucky #steve/bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #shrinkyclinks #my writing #original post #fanfic #catscraftsandcommentary writes

[alivingfire]

Never have I ever written a Vampire au

i haven’t, and i’m honestly surprised at myself.

and y’all know me, i can’t just write the normal “no we have to stay apart because i’m dangerous” “but i love you, despite it all!” vampire story. so, let’s see… (more under the cut because it got long)

what about vampire louis, forever 25, who was turned back in the 1830s. it was the height of unrest, riots breaking out because of food prices, no unions yet to help those who spent their days in factories, and no child labor laws. louis works on the docks in london, fingers frozen as he hauls heavy boxes full of food he can’t afford, his trousers worn thin because he also can’t afford wool for more and has no one to sew them for him anyway.

he’s walking back to the workhouse where he lives when he’s pulled into an alley and bitten. he wakes up feeling warmer than he ever has before, despite the dawn chill, and his neck aching. he writes it off as a weird happenstance – he probably just passed out from not eating, or the cold.

but he goes back to the docks and finds that he can lift more than he could the day before, can hear more around him, can see the shipping labels on boxes from dozens of meters away. he tries to choke down a sandwich for lunch but it unsettles his stomach, and he can’t do it. but he doesn’t feel woozy from lack of food, and he’s still not cold.

at the end of the day, louis is grabbed by the arm and pulled into an alley once more. this time, louis recognizes his attacker: a guy named liam who works alongside him on the docks.

“what happened to you?” liam asks, eyes wary.

“i honestly don’t know, mate,” louis says.

liam, as it turns out, is a werewolf, and he haltingly explains how he recognized louis’ changed scent as soon as he was nearby. “you’re a vampire, louis,” liam says.

“you mean i’m dead?”

liam shrugs, still looking apologetic. “depends on who you ask. but more or less, yeah.”

and so louis is suddenly no longer alive, a quick end to a hard life. but, somehow, he’s also still here, which is pretty extraordinary.

liam and louis stick together after that – london’s a big place, and there are a lot of supernatural people there, but it’s easier when it’s just the two of them. they still live in the workhouse, still work on the docks. just because louis is suddenly immortal doesn’t mean he suddenly has money, too, or a place to live, or anything besides the clothes on his back.

it’s a dangerous world for a supernatural guy, as louis finds out – he’s not at risk for starving to death anymore, but his chances of being staked in the heart have increased exponentially. hunters work in the dark, claiming they’re on righteous missions to rid the world of evil. there are religious zealots who run them out of town when they find louis helping a stumbling liam back to the village after a full moon, both of them covered in blood. and there are traditionalist immortals who hate them too, because louis doesn’t kill the people he feeds from and liam has no desire to be in a pack, and so maybe they’re more equipped to deal with danger but that doesn’t mean they’re completely safe.

years pass, decades, and louis and liam move around to keep from attracting suspicion. they have a few cool stories, have met a couple of notable figures, do a couple of things that would be impossible for humans. but mostly they just keep living, because the thing that twilight doesn’t tell you is that you only get to be a rich, eccentric immortal if you die a rich, eccentric human. liam and louis definitely aren’t rich, and they didn’t die that way, either, and so they have to find odd jobs where people won’t ask questions on the full moon or when louis has an allergic reaction to garlic someone else is eating a block away.

there’s still danger, being what they are, but they’re mostly able to go under the radar. hunters have a harder time operating in a world with security cameras and cell phones. those traditionalists who hate liam and louis for not playing by their ancient rules mostly stay in their towers and dungeons, avoiding the world. and the religious zealots, descendants of the men who used to burn witches (and people they didn’t like) at the stake, have to be careful about what they say, and who they accuse. none of them want to face public ridicule for announcing vampires are real, and it’s more important to keep their good names than chase out the rare supernatural being.

liam and louis are back in london, which (finally) takes us to the other half of the story. louis has found a job in a twenty-four hour store of some kind, let’s say a supermarket. he does the graveyard shift because then he doesn’t have to spend time in the sun, and he can get away with looking pale and lifting more than is humanly possible because there’s literally no one there to witness it.

and one night he’s doing his thing, stocking shelves and wasting time, throwing baby carrots at liam over the shelves, laughing every time he hears the little thump of vegetable against liam’s skull. someone clears their throat next to him and says, “uh. excuse me?”

louis turns and. stops. the guy is pigeon-toed and grinning sheepishly, holding a bag of… are those kebab sticks?

“hi, sorry, i just. i need a new bag of, um,” he rattles the kebab sticks. “a few are broken.”

louis takes the bag and feels his eyebrows go way up. some of the sticks are broken, yes, but he’s pretty sure there wouldn’t be this many broken right in half just from shipping. also, he’s pretty sure the top of the bag has been glued together to look like it’s never been opened.

and, right there on the edge of one of the broken sticks… is that blood? that’s blood.

“uh-huh,” louis says skeptically. “i’ll… see what i can do.”

luckily, his manager doesn’t care about a pack of kebab sticks that cost less than two pounds, so louis grabs a new bag for the guy. “thanks, this is so helpful, thank you,” the guy keeps saying. louis walks with him up to the self-checkout and repeats that it wasn’t a big deal, really, until the guy, blushing, says, “i’m harry. would you- would you like to go out sometime?”

which is silly. this guy can’t be more than twenty-two, and he’s emotional about kebab sticks, and he’s also buying said kebab sticks at four in the morning, so he’s clearly a mess. and, alright, louis is technically only twenty-five, but he’s also technically one hundred eighty-eight, which is quite an age difference, and he has no particular emotional attachment to kebab sticks.

but louis says, “i get off in thirty minutes,” and harry beams.

louis spends those next thirty minutes pretending he doesn’t hear liam laughing at him from the aisle over, and trying to keep his grinning to a minimum. finally, the clock strikes five o’clock and louis tosses his apron aside, knowing liam is responsible enough to grab it for him. harry’s waiting by the front door, bouncing on his toes and still holding his new bag of kebab sticks. “hi,” he says breathlessly.

“hi,” louis says back.

they step out into the watery pre-dawn light, and then louis hears something like a twig breaking to his right. he ducks instinctively and barely gets missed when something – someone – goes hurtling by him, supernaturally fast.

harry shouts, and louis rolls back onto his feet to jump in front of him, to get between harry and whatever the hell chose the worst possible moment to attack him, but then –

but then harry’s ripping open his new bag of kebab sticks and plunging one into the attacker’s chest. the guy – who louis vaguely recognizes as another vampire with territory issues – lets out a howl and dissolves into ash. harry tosses the broken kebab stick off to the side and wheels to face louis.

louis, meanwhile, is racing to put together an explanation. i don’t know that guy, maybe he was a mugger? no, that doesn’t explain the whole … ash… thing. he races to come up with something when harry says, “i’m so sorry.”

“uh. why?”

“i didn’t mean for you to–” harry says, then breaks off, frustrated. “i usually don’t… show this to anyone. at least, not on a first date.”

“show what?” louis asks.

harry is back to looking sheepish, and he holds his hands out in a half-shrug. “i’m… uh… i’m a vampire hunter.” 

“you hunt vampires,” louis echoes. “with kebab sticks.”

“well, i mean, any wood will work in a pinch, but–” harry stops. “you’re not freaked out?”

“that depends on what you mean by freaked out,” louis says truthfully. he’s fought off his share of hunters before, and harry clearly doesn’t know what he is, but it’s still strange to stand next to a human, looking down at a pile of what used to be a dude and is now grey dust.

“can i explain over breakfast?” harry asks hopefully, and louis says yes.

harry tells him about his family, growing up learning that fairytales and horror stories weren’t always just fantasy, about reading ancient tomes and handwritten journals on how to kill vampires, witches, fae, and werewolves. “the world is so much bigger than you think,” harry says, all earnest eyes.

“apparently so,” louis says.

he knows it’s a terrible idea to still be here. he should make his excuses, grab liam, and pack the two of them up to a new town, a new country, maybe. they could stay away until harry’s retired from the hunting game and then come back. or, they could play it safe and wait until harry’s dead, that would do it. 

louis doesn’t like that one bit, even though he knows it’s probably what liam would do. 

but when harry says, “can i see you again?” louis only hesitates for a moment before saying yes.

it’s wonderful, if louis ignores liam’s hissed warnings rattling around in his subconscious. they go on dates and harry hangs out with louis while he shelves vegetables and cans of soup and louis even meets harry’s best friend, a kid named niall who carries a silver knife strapped to his thigh because “werewolves blend in a lot better than most other things,” he tells louis solemnly.

it’s all wonderful, until it’s not, because eventually something has to go wrong. harry and louis are leaving a restaurant, maybe, one late night, when someone grabs him round the neck and holds a stake to his chest.

“what are you doing?” harry is shouting, and louis wants to tell him to quit tugging on the guy’s arms or he’s going to be staked anyway, but he can’t quite get words to form in his mouth. he throws an elbow backwards and escapes the hold, and he starts to run, but–

he turns back to harry and freezes, because the guy has him, now, instead. it’s one of the traditionalists, the vampires that don’t like louis for daring to work alongside humans and go to movie theatres and diners and such. and those same traditionalists also hate people like harry, for a much more straightforward reason.

“let him go,” louis warns, but the old guy just grins.

harry’s eyes are wide, and he yells, “louis, run!-” before the guy puts his hand over his mouth.

“well,” the guy says, “isn’t this sweet.”

louis feels himself getting angrier, and he snaps. he bounds across the space between them, too fast for the human eye, and flips over harry and the bad guy so he’s behind them. he sweeps the guy’s legs and pushes harry forward, out of danger. it only takes a twist of louis’ hands and the guy falls, eyes unblinking for good, his neck at an unnatural angle. 

“what–” harry says after an unending, silent moment.

“i know, i should’ve–”

“you’re a–”

“yeah, i am, i am, i’m so sorry–”

“so that’s why you wouldn’t try my garlic chicken,” harry says, and louis laughs, stunned into it.

“yeah,” he says, smiling hopefully. “that’s why.”

“i’m going to have to hide you from my family for a while,” harry says.

“that’s fine.”

“and i might threaten to stake you when you make me mad.”

“totally acceptable.”

“but we can do this, right?” he asks, even more hopeful than louis had been.

“yeah,” louis says. “i think we can.”

#me: maybe i'll write a fun little drabble #also me: it must be HISTORICALLY ACCURATE and also include ANGST and WORLDBUILDING #Anonymous #drabbles