#I had a point to this. I think I’m just in a werewolf mood

[ducotte-real]

YOU KNOW WHAT??? Laios’ monstersona was a chimera bc it drew from his fascination with monsters. If his values were more about his hunger than his admiration for life and biology he woulda been a Rougarou. That’s ALL I’m saying. This guy is hungry yeah but he eats to overcome, his eating has purpose. Food is strength and life in the dungeon. He admires what that food means for the ecosystem as much as he wants to participate

[rosieswriting]

More than what you see

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: You need to remind your boyfriend how much he is worthy off once again after a terrible full moon

Note: English is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! It´s pure fluff with hurt/comfort from reader to Remus because i just love this prompt so much.

Words: 1.4K

He was barely holding himself together; shoulders slumped as he leaned against the cold wall of your bedroom. Still, as you reached for him, he shifted, pulling his torn sleeves down over the raw skin on his arms.

“Don’t. I’m fine,” he muttered, but the words lacked conviction, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. He tried to tug the tattered fabric tighter, as if hiding the wounds could somehow shield you from seeing just how much he was hurting.

You knelt beside him, hands hovering just inches away, waiting. He took a shuddering breath, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, guilt flickering in them. “You… you shouldn’t have to keep doing this,” he mumbled, voice cracking as he finally let his head fall back against the wall. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I don’t want you to see me like this. Not… every time.”

You bit your inner cheek at his words, your own heart aching for him. “But I want to be here for you. I want to help you,” you said slowly and softly, making sure not to elevate your tone. “Please, let me help you.”

He looked up at you; it still felt surreal to him to have someone in his life who wasn’t annoyed or bothered by his condition, even after years of friendship and months of dating. He just looked at you for a moment and nodded, allowing you to care for him.

You smiled softly and grabbed the hem of his shirt, slowly and carefully beginning to take it off him, the new scars along his chest revealed.

“It’s not like I prefer you with clothes anyway,” you muttered playfully, trying to lighten the mood as you let his shirt fall to the floor and reached for the med kit beside your bed.

He looked away, trying to hide a hint of a smile as you joked. It definitely helped reduce the tension. “Shut up,” he muttered back.

He tried to relax as you gently tended to his wounds, first disinfecting them and cleaning the dried blood from his chest and arms. “It’s not that bad, really,” he mumbled, wincing only slightly a few times when the cloth touched a particularly painful spot.

He was trying to downplay the whole thing, acting like he wasn’t struggling. He didn’t want to bother you or make you worry. Even so, the fact that you were here with him, taking care of him, made his heart fill with a different kind of comfort.

“Rem,” you called out softly. “I worry and heal freaking birds when they have a broken wing or something. You clearly went mad if you think I won’t help my boyfriend,” you teased him.

Remus raised an eyebrow, giving you a deadpan stare. “I’m offended that you’re comparing me to a bird,” he joked back, appreciating your playful banter. “You’re too good for me, you know that, don’t you?” he muttered, the smile that was beginning to form at the corners of his lips fading a little.

You finished healing his wounds and set the med kit on the table next to the bed before sitting in front of him, looking at him.

“I don’t know that. What I do know is that you don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m only good for you because you’re good for me. That’s how we work,” you spoke softly, brushing his hair out of his face.

He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. Of course, he had his moments of confidence and self-acceptance. Still, on days like this, his self-esteem hit an all-time low, and he couldn’t help but feel like you were doing too much for him.

“But I’m a werewolf,” he pointed out in a low voice. His mind kept telling him that someone as good as you should run as far away as possible from a creature like him, not stay and care for him.

“You are Remus Lupin,” you said quickly and softly. “You are my friend and my boyfriend. Being a werewolf is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You are you, and you happen to be the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

He swallowed hard at your words, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside him. It wasn’t as if no one had ever said something kind to him; thanks to Merlin, he had wonderful friends. But those words coming from you always hit him hard. He still hesitated to believe them, though. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Rem,” you mumbled softly, your own heart breaking at how he couldn’t see himself as you did. You cupped his face softly and made him look at you. “You know me; if I even thought for a second that you were a monster, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be dating you, and I wouldn’t be telling you how amazing you are. But I am here because you, Remus Lupin, are nowhere near a monster. Not even close.”

He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your soft hands as you cupped his face. Your words were like a warm caress that soothed his aching heart, but he still struggled internally to let your message sink in. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. “You deserve someone who’s normal, someone who isn’t a walking time bomb.”

“I know what I’m worthy of,” you cut him off softly, not wanting him to keep talking down about himself. “I’m worthy of someone who loves and appreciates me. Someone who’s with me at all times, who cries with me when something bad happens, and who laughs with me when something good happens. I’m worthy of love and devotion. Of someone who’ll come to me the moment I call them, even if they’re doing something important. Of someone who makes me feel safe,” you spoke sweetly, caressing his cheek. “And that someone is you.”

Remus was quiet for a few moments, his eyes locked on yours as he took in your words. Each sentence was like a knife, tearing down the walls he’d built around himself. He swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. “You do deserve that,” he managed to say at last.

“And you give me all of that and more,” you let out a short laugh. “Merlin, I used to think I was such a loser, Remus. Really, I always thought nobody would ever have the patience to even try to date me. But then you appeared, and you were you. You were the only one—and still are—who lets me ramble for hours about silly things. You’re the one who makes me feel loved. No monster could ever do that.”

His heart clenched at your words. The thought of you thinking of yourself as a loser tore at his soul. How could you, the kindest, sweetest, and most generous person, ever think something like that? He reached out and took your hands in his, holding them tight. “You are not a loser,” he murmured softly. “You are vibrant, caring, and everything good in the world.”

You smiled at his words and squeezed his hands. “So are you, and it pains me that you don’t realize. I love you, everything about you.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words. The feeling of your hands clutching his and your smile washing over him left him lost for words, unable to find the right response to express just how deeply your love affected him.

“I love you too,” he choked, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “More than anything in the world.”

“I will tell you every day that you are not a monster until it gets into your thick head, do you understand me, Lupin?” you mumbled softly, teasingly.

He let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and affection. “Trust me, you’re loud enough that it’s impossible to ignore what you say,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, making you roll your eyes in playful banter.

“But in all seriousness,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, the tension and lingering self-doubt slowly melting away. “I’ll try to stop beating myself up all the time.”

You smiled widely at his words. “Can I kiss you now?” you asked playfully, making him chuckle.

“Of course, dove.”

He leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a slow, soft kiss filled with reassurance and love.

The next day, when you went off in the afternoon to spend time with your friends, he went to a jewelry shop and bought an engagement ring.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In contrast to my Dark!Rhys in Obsidian Salt, pls enjoy some fluffy werewolf!bat boy head canons that have been floating around in my head all day:

•Werewolf!Azriel who scents you before the others and (not so)secretly plants a little wolfsbane in the garden beneath your window to ensure no other wolves come sniffing around before he can claim you

•Werewolf!Cassian with extra long scruffy hair and a matching beard (I’m drooling) who loves it when you play with his hair or when you squeal when his scruff scratches your cheek when he goes in for a kiss.

•Werewolf!Rhys who INSISTS you cannot leave the house until he has rubbed his scent over every bit of you. He twines himself around you like a giant cat, making sure he pays extra attention to the scent glands on your throat and wrists. Anyone who gets close will have to get through the layer of him on you before they can even catch a whiff of your own scent. (He definitely rolls around in your laundry when you’re not home so his scent is on your clothes too but he always folds them neatly and puts them back before you get home)

•Speaking of laundry, good luck heading into work in any other top but a turtleneck or sweatshirt. Not because they’re so possessive that they care what you wear out, but those bastards are competitive and if one of them leaves a hickey they ALL have to leave a hickey. It soon spirals into who can mark you up the most and it gets to a point that your coworkers are concerned for your wellbeing. You have to, on more than one occasion, explain that everything is fine back home, great actually, but your werewolf boyfriends are very, very competitive (and definitely a tad possessive)

•The boys have lived a long time together, just the three of them, their scents over every bit of the house until the day you finally move in and start lighting candles and bringing home flowers to sit in the windowsills to brighten the place up; the first time the boys come home Cass makes a comment about it smelling weird in the house now and you dejectedly throw it all out thinking he hates it and you’ve now invaded their space. This sends Cass into an absolute SPIRAL because he didn’t mean it like that he just has been so used to the others’ scents. He starts bringing you home any flower and candle he can get his hands on to the point that the hall closet is precariously full of candles that have never and probably will never be lit.

•There is ALWAYS someone to cuddle with. On the couch reading? Cass is sprawled out with his head on your stomach, large arms wrapped around your middle, keeping you warm with his natural body heat. Sitting in the library working on reports? Rhys will lift you out of the chair and sit himself down so you can relax in his lap, head leaning between the juncture of his shoulder and throat, one of the few times the wolf will be utterly vulnerable to you. Lounging in bed, curtains shut for the night? Azriel will keep you tucked tight against his chest, one leg tossed over yours practically keeping you pinned to the mattress. Mother forbid you even try to leave. He is a vice. You are in bed for the night. Maybe the week, depends on his mood. And Cauldron Boil you if you’ve had a bad day, all three of them are piled onto one piece of furniture to hold you and stroke your hair.

•Their first full moon with you in the house is a mess. You come home from the store to find them dragging the thickest chains you’ve ever seen down into the basement.

“It’s for your safety.” Azriel says.

You bite down on the laugh that threatens to bubble up your throat. They’re really adorable, all concerned for your safety and convinced they’re a danger to you.

“You guys know this isn’t the first full moon I’ve spent with you, right?” You ask and the confusion on their faces is enough to remind you that they often black out completely on nights like this. “You all came sniffing around my apartment. I sprayed Az in the face with a water bottle infused with wolfsbane. Cass let me scratch him behind the ears like a puppy.”

Cassian is blushing so hard you think the pink tinting his cheeks might be permanent.

Azriel scratches the top of his head, trying to recall.

“And you,” you say poking Rhys in the chest. “Broke my fucking window, not to do any of the beastly things you think you do on a full moon, but to eat my chocolate cake off the counter! I had a full panic attack I thought you were going to die on my floor!”

“I don’t remember so it doesn’t count,” he says but there is the faintest hint of pink on his own cheeks, violet eyes glinting in amusement.

“So you can put the chains away, I’ll be fine.” And you’re correct. Cassian does tear the basement door completely off it’s hinges and the local population of sheep decline drastically, but at the end of the night, three large furballs climb into your bed with the first rays of dawn to cuddle with you, snouts nuzzling into your neck to breathe in your scent. The real inconvenience is that everything smells like wet dog in the morning and you have to wash the sheets twice to get the smell out.

Ugh I’m gonna have to write some fics about this soon!

[websterss]

THEY'RE BLUE — STILES STILINSKI

SUMMARY: Here’s a little werewolf au I conjured up. The supermoon overpowers Stiles control resulting in a casualty.

WARNING(S): ANGST, mentions of dying

WORD COUNT: 1,477

PAIRING: Werewolf!Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You didn’t expect to become the only human in the pack. You see there were two humans in the pack, You and Stiles, but after what happened to Stiles, he didn’t have much of a choice. Stile’s life was at stake. He was practically on his deathbed. So, you had to turn to your only option left, Scott. Scott bit Stiles to save his life. It was hard enough as it was, but Stiles becoming a werewolf, now that was even harder. He had a hard time trying to control his shifting. But he had his friends to help him along the way.

“Tell me again why we’re here?” Malia asked. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to attend another pack meeting.

“Because there’s a supermoon tonight, and we need to make sure nobody does anything stupid.” All eyes turn to face Liam.

“Oh, come on, it was one time.” He whined.

“Yeah, and it’s forever engraved in our heads,” Stiles told him. 

“It was really hot out that night.” He shrugged.

“Beacon Hills usually is during the summer.” Stiles quipped.

“Okay we get it guys, knock it off you two.” You gave a playful stern look to them. Whether those two believed it or not they were the best of pals. Liam looked up to Stiles and Scott, but he would appreciate it more if the guidance didn’t consist of the constant sarcasm and teasing. 

“Y/n’s right, we have a serious matter, this isn’t like any other moon we’ve been through, the supermoon will make us more aggressive, stronger, even violent, and we have to stay alert at all times, we can’t risk anyone getting hurt,” Scott informed his pack.

“Or killed,” Malia said. 

“Exactly.” Scott nodded.

“So how will we be able to control it?” Hayden questioned.

“We have chains, shouldn’t that at least help get you all through the night?” Lydia said.

“It’s not enough, everyone would break free instantly.” Scott shook his head. 

“What about mountain ash, would that hold you guys back?” Mason suggested. 

“That’s not a bad idea.” Stiles nodded.

“Great problem solved! Um, but what are we going to do about the human in the room?” You pointed at yourself.

“The human…will stay as far away from any of us.” Stiles flailed his arms around gesturing to the supernatural beings in the room.

“I want to help.” You pleaded.

“No, I’m not risking putting you in danger.”

“I am perfectly capable of staying away from danger.” Stiles stood silent. His shoulders slumped. You were gonna give him a migraine. He looked away shaking his head.

“What, I can!” You raised an eyebrow.

“Just stay home tonight Y/n, please, just go home.” He pointed to the door. Every one of them avoids your gaze. 

“Scott.” You looked at the alpha. 

He sheepishly looked up at you, then at Stiles, who shook his head no. 

“Stiles is right. You could get hurt, Y/n. So stay home okay.”

“Fine.” You muttered. Little did he know you weren’t going to listen to him. 

-

“Okay, I think that’s enough mountain ash to keep you guys’ in.” Mason got up and dusted his palms on his jeans.

“Good job Mason.” Lydia stood beside him behind the line of mountain ash. They decided to keep them all in the library for the night. Scott, Hayden, Liam, Malia, and Stiles were all chained up to poles, the mountain ash was for just in case. All of them could feel how the super moon was affecting them. They let out grunts and growls. Fur growing on their face, claws coming out of their fingernails. It was a recipe for a disaster.

“I think that’s our cue to leave!” Mason started tugging on Lydia’s upper arm.

“Good idea.” She nodded her head in agreement. They ran out into the hall hoping that the mountain ash was enough to keep them from running wild into the night. When they thought they were good, it just got worse. They saw you walking past them. Lydia immediately calls after you to retreat.

You walked towards another set of doors pushing it forwards, the door creaking in response. You stood in the hallway. Staring down the dark eery hallways. There wasn’t anyone around. You never liked school at night. That gut feeling in your chest was telling you to turn back, and you almost did, except the low growl behind you caused a chill down your spine. You spun around slowly, your breathing labored as you now face what you were scared of encountering tonight. Your boyfriend was in full rage. You keep still in your tracks as two glowing eyes stare right back at you.

“Stiles.” You slowly stood. The only response was a grunt and heavy breathing. That further told your flight or fight response to take a step away from him.

“This isn’t you okay, it’s the moon taking control of you.” 

“This is me!” He roared, making you flinch.

“No, it’s not!” You cried out. You took each step back with caution.

“Baby, just, just find an anchor, okay? Yeah, an anchor, okay. Think of me.” You nodded.

“The only thing I’m thinking is wanting to sink my teeth in that pretty neck of yours!” 

Oh you were in total shit.

“Stiles please, okay. You have to fight this!” You pleaded. You couldn’t stop crying.

“Y/N!” You whipped your head to see Lydia and Mason approaching you. Stiles took your distraction as an advantage, rushing forward, full charge, the collision of your bodies was enough to knock you off balance. You slipped on your feet falling on your back.

“Stiles...” You whispered out in pain. You watched him slowly hover over you looking at you as if you were prey. Your eyes widened fearing the worst to come.

“No!” Lydia screamed, she was running to you as fast as she could in her heeled boots. Mason watched in terror as you screamed out in agony. 

You didn’t know what was happening. It felt like a blur. You felt a tremendous amount of pain in your chest, your senses were going numb. You were going in and out of an unconscious state of mind. Then everything seemed to go dark. Stiles had finally stopped, his brain slowly starting to process what he just did. His claws were dripping with blood. Your blood. His eyes went back to their original chocolate brown. He hesitantly brought a hand to your face caressing it softly. His eyes trailed down to the gory sight of your chest and stomach covered in claw marks. His doing. He let out a shaky breath as his eyes found your face again. His hand hovering over you, not wanting to further touch you, but his heart was trying to reach out for you

“Y/n? Y/n, hey, please wake up.” He whispered. “Y/n, please!”

“Stiles!” Scott’s voice rang out like an echo. Footsteps could be heard beating down the hall, growing closer to the messy sight of you laying still in Stiles’ arms.

“No, no, no! Y/n!” Stiles yelled out. He brought you into his chest, rocking you back and forth and kissing your temple. Your head pulled back. Eyes closed. Your whole body was limp. You were practically weightless. He could no longer hear your heart beating.

“No, baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He choked up. “Open your eyes, let me see them again, please...” He weeped.

Scott, Malia, Liam, and Hayden didn’t hear the rhythmic beating in your chest no more. You were gone. Lydia was on the floor weeping for you.

Stiles had a feeling that someone was going to end up hurt, he knew the risks of the supermoon, but he didn’t think you were going to be the casualty of tonight, nor did he think that he would be the one to take away your life. Sirens could be heard from a distance. It wasn’t the ambulance though, it was Stiles’ father and Deputy Parrish.

“Stiles...” Sheriff Stilinski ran up to his son, his gaze stopped on you. “Oh god...Is she?”

“Yeah,” Lydia responded.

“Oh god…” Sheriff Stilinski ran a hand down his face. It was bad enough he was dealing with all the supernatural stuff, but to see you, his son’s girlfriend lying dead in his arms was worse. He saw you like his own daughter and wanted to keep you safe, but then again no one was ever safe in Beacon Hills.

“I killed her dad,” Stiles muttered. 

“Stiles-” His dad started.

���No! She’s dead because of me. She’s dead!” He shouted out. All gazes suddenly fell on him.

Everyone knew what would happen if they ever took an innocent’s life. They’ve heard the stories. They knew the outcome. They knew how Derek ended up.

“What?” He cried out. 

“Stiles…your eyes, they’re blue.”

[gamerbearmira]

heya again <3

so...i got some more giftless grandkids thoughts here, written in bullet points because my brain just kept going AHAHHAHA

I’m currently listening to the vocal mashup of the grandkids of waiting on a miracle while im going through the giftless grandkids tag as im taking a break from other aus, it’s very fun and sets the mood somehow AHHAHHA

I’m really glad they have each other and are thriving even without their gifts, and they likely already got used to not having gifts and wouldn’t care, and that’s so real of them

The mashup is making me think of some things tho, ngl AHHAHAH

But anyway, yes, I currently have many thoughts

Was thinking about the reasons for why Casita would crack and fall, considering the kids are close with each other here and the adults (minus Alma oof) are all there supporting them, Bruno included since he never went to the walls

And as I read some of your posts and think about it more, it makes sense

There are several main things that would make Casita crack here—aka the family themselves cracking—would be:

Ofc, there’s still Alma’s pressure on the triplets and her confusion and unintentional hurt towards the grandkids

Most likely how Julieta is hiding the big secret on why they didn’t get their gifts and also their doorknobs

Another is how Pepa and Bruno are also hiding the vision tablet from everyone but specifically Julieta

Still trying to think of other reasons, but those are the main ones, I think

In canon, Bruno had been patching up the cracks, which definitely helped Casita stay up longer, but he never went to the walls here, so how would Casita and the family last until a little after Antonio’s ceremony (assuming we’re still going with something similar to canon timeline)?

Here is where the kids’ good relationships come in, their love and care are helping hold things together, even without Bruno repairing the cracks

The process of Casita cracking would be slower here compared to canon

So what happens when the kids—the main reasons for Casita still being able stand—are faced with the revelation that they could have gotten their gifts back then? Could have possibly avoided a lot of heartache and ridicule and disappointment from the people around them? And the reason they didn’t are because of the adults? Because of Julieta?

They hyperfocus on the bad parts, overshadowing the good parts because its an intense and shocking moment and revelation for them, I think

In the moment of the revelation, that’s likely going to upset them, maybe even break them a little, because why? Why did they—? 

Of course, they’ll later have the full realization that they grew up happier without the gifts, but again, that’s later

Also, pretty sure they focus more on the fact that it seemed like the adults they trusted lied and deceived them in a sense, almost like a betrayal (except ofc its not)

This, too, would connect to how Julieta says in that one giftless grandkids art of yours, “I didn’t want to hurt them—to hurt anyone.”

And then, with the love faltering for a moment, that’s how Casita falls apart

Also, why am I imagining the kids finding the vision tablet that Pepa and Bruno are likely hiding, making them realize what Julieta is hiding, which then starts the realizations, arguments, and full-on cracking of Casita?

This would then parallel canon with Bruno’s vision too

This means we get to see all the kids trying to figure things out together too

After everything, I can really see Julieta and the rest of the adults gifting the kids their doorknobs again as a surprise—which they will later use to get their gifts too AHAHHAHA YEAHHH

Anywho, ye, just some thoughts I have hehe <33

Literally listened to that bop today so real 😭😭

ANYWAY. Y'all might not now, but Mic here as been helping me in world building for this au 🤭🤭 its gonna be one of the next fics I do, since Mamabel and Werewolf are finished (will be updating today after I finish Mama Isa. And if my wifi will let me <\\\3)

ANYWAY THESE IDEAS?? ARE SO RAD...Triplets being in the spotlight because the grandkids have no gifts, its so sad. But honestly, Alma is just pushing them because she needs to prove that the miracle is ok. Implying that the kids did something. Subtle, but whatever.

Also, the kids are like Mirabel in canon, constantly trying to prove themselves and helping out around town. Meanwhile there's a certain group of villagera who don't even like them. Not all the villagers, but definitely a good chunk. There may or may not be a rather crude mural somewhere in town out of the way. But there :(

But anyway. The kids do have hobbies relating to their gifts! The husbands, feeling guilty, gave the kids presents, gifts to give them something to do since Alma couldn't "assign" them anything (which they were grateful for).

Isabela got some gardening gloves and tools, and is really into gardening and farming, and is always tending to her garden or helping out with the farmers in town. She also tends to all the plants in Casita. Dolores loves to play music, and after Félix gave her first guitar, she was hooked. She has tons of instruments, and actually taught Mirabel to play the accordion; she helps with entertainment, like Camilo. Agustín got Luisa some dumb bells, she actually asked for them. She wanted to strong and still help out, and regulating exercises and mostly helps out with packing and loading or at the quarry.

Camilo was give some costumes and puppies, and he's been into performances and theater since. He also performs for the kids, and plays alongside Dolores often. Mirabel was given new sewing stuff. Instead of Alma teaching her most of what she knew, Agustín helped her, since he knew some, and she kept the fashion and crafts hobby up. She helps repair things around town, and does the occasional clothing repair. Antonio still is finding his hobby, but the grandkids know he really loves animals. They actually suggested Félix get him a pet. So what does he get him? A parrot. Antonio loves that parrot like no other, and he's always around him, trailing behind Luisa.

DESIGNS 🌚🙏🙏 I'll post the family tree later, and maybe draw the triplets because their designs changed but me and Mic are still working in them. But the kids❗❗ Their clothes are very plain and dull, because the seamstress refused to make their clothes any fun. Even Mirabel can only embroider so much, and she rarely has time to do so cause she's so busy helping. But there's some subtle designs <33

Julieta really did and does mean well in this au, but drastic actions really do cause drastic results in some cases. Her pull those doorknobs was definitely drastic. While the kids are happier and aren't nearly as pressured, they feel inadequate, and like something is missing :(( And then there's vision tablet (that's like over 40 years old 💀), but that's a whole other can of worms.

ANYWAY. AO3 HOPEFULLY LATER MY WIFI IS :((( Also I'll be posting the finished storyboards for the WOOM animatic I'm working on, and then I'll also post the rough video put together with it. SHOUTOUT TO @thefourchimes FOR HELPING ME WITH THIS SHE'S SO COOL <333 should tote check out her aus, they're so cool. ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[elliereject]

creep .1

* in which you’re dragged to a frat party and spend most of it lingering in the corner, that is until a certain auburn-haired girl with unusually sharp canines appears next you and turns your night into something much more interesting.

* loserish!reader, vamp!ellie 😫, hemophilia if you squint, creepy ellie…duh, depictions of a singular graphic scene at the end, kissing, biting, heavy petting. that’s pretty much it lmk if I missed anything..nsfw in future chapter(s)

* this is one of the only things I’ve written recently that I’ve enjoyed writing and found decent so I hope u enjoy it, I’m glad I got this out before Halloween too, I’ve had vamp!ellie rattling around in my head a for a while, yk, fellow writers..I’d love to see..werewolf!abby..haha jk jk, unless 🫣..

*mdni

wc ~ 1k

pt 2. coming soon

“God, ★ can you go dance? It’s a fucking party loosen up!”

You held your red solo cup up to your “friend” and gave her an awkward smile. “I’m good over here!”

She sighed and rolled her eyes before slipping back into the sweaty crowd.

This was the most uncomfortable you’ve ever felt in your life.

It was a Saturday night; the chilly air, crunchy leaves, and overall mood of the season had deluded you into wanting to go out and socialize, so for the first time in a long time you agreed to attend a frat party with a “friend” you’d met in one of your classes.

It took you almost an hour to get ready, and as you reapplied your eyeliner for the fifth time you hoped that the saying “when you look good, you feel good” was true and you didn’t spend 20 minutes picking your outfit in vain.

Once you were ready, your “friend” picked you up from your dorm and the two of you walked over to the party, she was already a little tipsy from pre-gaming in her dorm with her roommate who was going to some other party so you had to make sure she didn’t stumble onto her face more than once.

The makeshift bouncer, a senior named Grey, or Grug or something gave you a once-over before looking at your friend who had to clarify you were with her, which definitely didn’t deflate your confidence.

Before you were even in the crowded, humid house, you knew you weren’t going to enjoy yourself, you never really did at parties if you were being honest, but you didn’t think your “friend” would ditch you to go grind her ass on some random chads and brads, yet here you were, nursing a cherry seltzer, and there she was, shaking ass.

Yay, college!

You were about to take another sip from your cup when a presence suddenly appeared beside you that made you jump out of your skin and caused your drink to slosh onto the already sticky floor.

“Shit! What the fuck?” You asked, looking up at the figure who seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“Fuck! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, you just looked bored.” She replied, her voice was gravelly and her eyes, the colour of jade. Her auburn hair was cut short and freckles were scattered across her face. Safe to say she was hot. “I can go get you another drink?”

You waved it off, “It’s fine, it wasn’t that good anyways. Plus I should probably pay more attention to my surroundings, even if I am bored.”

She hummed out a sound of understanding, “Not your scene?”

You shrugged, “Not really,” you eyed her outfit, blue jeans with a green flannel and a brown leather jacket, converse. “Doesn’t seem like yours either.”

“Really? Cause I like just made out with Bryson in the storage closet, it was suuuupper hot.” She said, pointing a ringed finger to a blond dude clad in a football jersey who was currently shoving his tongue down a blonde girl's throat.

You allowed yourself a small smile, hot and funny? Yikes.

“Pretty sure his name is Brickson, but close enough.”

“What the fuck kind of name is Brickson?” She laughed, “Did a brick fall on his head after he was born or some shit?”

You shrugged before smiling, fully, “Judging by how flat the top of his looks? Probably.”

She snorted at this and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, you made this hot, funny, cool girl laugh, you!

“Hey, so don’t freak out but that guy’s been staring at you for the past 10 minutes.” She said, flicking her head in the direction of said guy.

You turned your head to look at him, he wasn’t..unattractive. He was muscular and had on a sports jersey that seemed to small for his build, his hair was cut into a messy mullet and when he met your gaze he…winked.

You cringed and looked back at the cool girl, “I hope he doesn’t think anything’s gonna happen, he’s not really my type.”

She gave you a knowing smile before asking, “And what exactly is your type?”

You shrugged, “Preferably someone with boobs.”

She sighed, “Can’t relate, I love penis.”

You gave her a pointed look and she laughed, “What? Not believable?”

You rolled your eyes, “Not in the slight—“ your eyes widened as they looked past her shoulder. “Shit, he’s walking over here.”

“Wanna do something crazy then?” She asked quickly, her jade eyes meeting yours and you found yourself nodding before she even finished her sentence. Hell, you’d bark if she asked you to. “Just follow my lead.”

Her large hand wrapped around your waist while her other found purchase on your neck, before you could think her lips were on yours. Slightly chapped but soft and enticing, kissing her was easy and you felt like you could do it forever.

Her skin was so cold you could feel it through your clothes. Your mind was completely encapsulated by her presence and just as you were starting to get used to it, she pulled away.

You thought whatever moment the two of you shared was over but you were wrong. Her lips trailed along your jaw, and her grip on your waist tightened. The hand that had been holding your neck was now on your hip, caressing back and forth with tenderness that had your thighs clenching, wanting more.

Each kiss felt like a snowflake melting into your skin until she was down to your neck. She kissed and nibbled on it before pausing.

“What’s wr—Ow! What the hell? Did you just–bite me?”

She chuckled after pulling away, “Never gotten a hickey before?”

You went quiet, because, well you haven’t but you’re sure it didn’t result in genuine blood trickling out of one’s body.

You traced your fingers over the mark and winced, it was most definitely going to leave a scar. She must’ve seen the discontentment on your face because she spoke up.

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal up quickly, you won’t even notice there was something there by tomorrow.” Her eyes clung to drops of blood dribbling down your neck.

You scoffed, “Let me guess, you’ve done this before?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged after what looked like reluctantly peeling her eyes away from your neck. “That guy’s gone though, must’ve scared him off.”

You smiled at her, “Must’ve been my presence, I can be pretty intimidating.”

She laughed loudly at this and you felt your confidence inflate once again. So much so, that the idea of asking for her number even popped into your head. But it was overtaken by more rational thoughts,

What if she thought you were weird? That you were moving to quick? Or what if she was just looking for someone to take home tonight, which you wouldn’t be opposed to but—

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You asked sheepishly, you can’t believe you spaced out in front of her, you could’ve sworn she was hypnotizing you with her laugh or something.

“You do need to pay more attention to your surroundings,” She said, giving you a small smile, “Never know what kind of creeps are lurking around at these parties.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m sure I can hold my own against a Chad or a Brittney.”

“I’m sure you could but—“ The music that had previously been wafting through the room turned up abruptly and you’d missed the last part of what she said.

“What?!” You shouted, putting your hand up to cup your ear.

She chuckled softly and leaned down so her lips were practically grazing the shell of your ear, the smell of mint, whiskey, and something metallic filled your senses.

When she spoke, a shiver racked through your body, “But if it was someone a little smarter? More discreet? If they snuck up beside you and covered your mouth? Or slipped something in your drink? Pulled you away? Would anybody notice, would anybody care?”

You pushed her away, her cool, easy going demeanor suddenly shifting into something eerie and uncomfortable. Her jade eyes gazed at you curiously as a blood-curdling shriek ripped through the house.

She jutted her thumb over her shoulder, “That’s my cue. See you around, ★.” She said, giving you a genuine smile, and it was just now you finally noticed her unusually sharp canines.

You gazed down at your drink as others pushed and shoved around, scrambling to get out of the house, away from all the horror.

And as you pulled a small scrap of paper out of your empty cup, 10 numbers and a name scrawled across it in red ink; you finally looked up to see your friend's lifeless body sprawled across the living room floor, her limbs bent in odd angles.

Yay, college!

[milogreer]

❥ my top ten redacted audio speakers !!

i’ve seen a bunch of people doing this so i wanted to join in! i love a bandwagon 😋

feisty werewolf; milo - i mean, come on. *gestures at my blog* look at me. milo very quickly took top spot, by the time i got to the panic attack audio i was like the rest of y’all can pack it up bc this guy’s got me hooked lmfao it was just so sweet to see a softer side of the guy who, at that point in the timeline, had mostly only been abrasive, cocky, and flirty. that accent also does everything for me. the exact moment i fell in love with him was when he said, “of course i’m not mad. i was worried - scared that you were hurt or something. but never mad.” 🫠💖

nervous air elemental; lasko - lasko… what can i say about lasko. he definitely awoke something in me lmao, initially i didn’t want to get into the elementals because meeting new people felt like a chore at the time but he immediately made me laugh and it was all downhill from there… i love that he’s kinda freaky and he makes me want to bite him in the non-canon audios, but even in prime universe he’s just so sweet and a really good friend. and his relationship with coworker makes me so proud of his development

arrogant incubus; gavin - i’ve said it before but gavin’s the reason i’m here! his hbs 2023 audio was my first audio of the channel, and to go back in time and watch his progression to that point was so heartwarming 🥺 him and freelancer are possibly the best pair in the universe, i just adore everything about them. gavin’s audios are actually the hardest ones for me to listen to because the love he has for freelancer is suffocating to witness in a really bittersweet way 😩

yandere cultist friend; blake - this one is um …. i never expected this HAHA when i first listened to the balance he really skeeved me out (as he should), but then mother mother released ‘explode!’ and for some unfathomable reason it got into my head as a blake song and i couldn’t dissociate it from him. on a second listen of the balance, i definitely appreciate his character more and the juxtaposition of him with elliott and sunshine vs bestie is so so interesting to me. i can’t even be mad at bestie because he’d have me wrapped around his finger too 🥲 rly nervous for his next story update

chaotic boyfriend; guy - BABYGIRL. humor is the biggest thing i look for in relationships both platonic and romantic and no one makes me laugh like guy does. he’s so my type and the way honey acts is literally how i am with guys i like, so guy audios are always so much fun to listen to 💖 and no BA hits quite like that pre-recorded one

i ended up talking more than i thought i would so the other half is under the cut!

it gets kind of messy in the second half because i think these could get shuffled around depending on my mood but for now these are my thoughts!

seer obscura; morgan - morgan is… captivating. i know he kinda only blew up after ‘time is a song’ but it’s with good reason; the atmosphere is so calming but also, like… there’s a longing to it, ykwim? the two of them being the only know seer obscuras naturally lends a hand to the tension between them. no one else understands their unique struggles - so when his new obscura acquaintance calls him up in the middle of the night asking for help and comfort, of course he isn’t going to say no. it’s such an intimate setting for their third audio together and you can feel the tension building the whole time up to “i want to know you.” it’s just a really good audio. very interested to see where his story goes

sarcastic inchoate demon; avior - THE SNARK. THE QUIET KINDNESS. THE MYSTERY. THE YEARNING. THE TRAGEDY. avior’s got it all. sovereign state had me on the edge of my seat the whole time and still does, honestly. his hbs rewind audio is one of my favorites; the effort and love he put into that little date to give starlight a reprieve from their shared hell… he is such a romantic 💖 there’s nothing quite like falling in love while stuck in an actual hell

unempowered boyfriend; geordi - he’s an interesting one for me bc my love of him is directly tied to cutie + cutie’s telepathy giving us a look into his head (i just melt over his whispered little i love yous and compliments). they have a fascinating and messy story that i live for even when it makes me sick lol i adore that they’re both flawed but that they’re taking steps to better themselves. it’s fun when couples in the redactedverse aren’t perfect but still try to be better out of love

mysterious stranger; hush - THE weird guy. within his first audio i went from being indifferent to charmed. i love a mystery and everything about him is mysterious, but he’s also so clueless sometimes that it’s like. so what if he tied doc to the bed in their first meeting, now he’s asking to hold their hand when he’s nervous. so what if his purpose is to free the sovereigns? he learned how to cook for doc. i can’t NOT love him

unknown yandere caller - i’m a ghostface fan, okay. and i’m a taurus. i like when people are obsessed with me 🤷🏼‍♀️ there’s just something so… like. listen. “you’ll start to expect me. you’ll start to crave me.” from the audio and “i know you’ll find them. and you’ll keep them. because they’re from me.” from his card? the arrogance. it’s bewitching. i need him back ASAP i don’t even care if he doesn’t get a real name, i just miss him. come back please 🙏🏻

[lu-twilights-pup]

“Do I Have to Avoid Dark Chocolate Now?

A short Twilight fic

Disclaimers:

Mentions of vomit, mentions of dog sickness, general fluff though

————

It had been about 6 weeks since he had revealed his secret to his friends and brothers

He could somehow not hear his own thoughts, only his stomach. It refused to acknowledge anything his head had to say.

It had been 2 weeks since everyone began to become completely comfortable with him again, in spite and because of his secret. Relaxing and no longer on edge once it fully clicked that he was still just him.

His stomach lurched again, determined to empty whatever foreign intrusion it thought was left in his body. He didn't think even his stomach was left in his body after heaving for what felt like hours.

It had been 4 hours since he had eaten Wild’s new cherry pie recipe–having never had cherries.

And right now, any anxiety Twilight had been going through about his brothers finding out he was essentially a werewolf—a divine beast, a monster of myth, a thing to be feared in stories told to children—was tossed out the window. Replaced with a new fear of possibly throwing up his skeleton, and a newfound disdain for small red fruits, caked in sugar and pastry.

Warriors held back his hair as a single strand of his bangs stuck to his forehead.

“Are you alright there, rancher?” He winced a bit as he took a peak at the bush he had, at this point , defiled. He scrunched his nose at the smell.

“Yeah.” Twilight sighed shakily. “I think m’ good for now.” He sat back, allowing his body to unclench, and muscles to relax for a moment, hoping to be done.

The sun peeked through the trees of the clearing they had made their camping spot. It dusted the area with light, particles of dust and pollen drift through the air through the sun beams. The gentle breeze shows the foliage around them, cooling the spot and adding to the life of the forest. Any other day, Twilight would have sat for hours admiring the area. Smoking in its peacefulness and simply breathing in the life and magic that pulsed through the forest floor, through his feet and into his heart. But right now, he was simply irritated.

He huffed. “This sucks.” His foolish response earned a chuckle from some of his brothers. Warriors clapped him gently on the back, with a weak smile before getting up, probably to wash his hand in the nearby steam.

“Well at least we know not to buy any more cherries.” Four tried to lighten the mood a bit. Wind sat next to him, nodding along, still focused on his extra portion of pie. “You had no idea you were allergic?” He glanced at the plate in Wind’s hands, then back to Twilight.

“No,” He followed his gaze to the plate, glaring, “Not at’ all. I had neve’ even hearda’ cherries ‘fore now. Little fuckers.” He mumbled.

“Language.” A soft jab, with little bite behind it came from Time.

Wild had managed to hobble over with some bread and water, signing once he put it down. “I’m still really sorry.” it spelled out. His shoulders drooped as he refused to look at Twilight in the face. He softened a little, at least as little as he could with out just completely slumping over.

“S’ alright cub, I didn’ know, s’ no way you coulda.” Wild fussed at this, perking up and furrowing his brows deeply.

“Yes I should have, I mean dogs can’t eat cherries! I would have never given them to Wolfie, I shouldn't have given them to you!” The image of the dark gray wolf came to mind, he too would have probably avoided such things. And perhaps there had been a time when Wild kept the hound away form certain ingredients. But he had though it was simply Becasue he had none to spare.

“I ain’t a dog though!” Twilight debated, “at least, not completely.” He placed his head in his hands as he groaned.

“I mean you technically are. Dog, werewolf, same thing. At least biologically speaking. It makes sense you should be able to eat that stuff! I mean you’re a bit more wolf than man by now.” Legend argue, shrugging a bit.

“Am not!” He snapped, a low grumble sounding in his chest.

“I watched you chew on a stick!”

Twilight’s face flushed. “Was pickin’ my teeth.” He grit out through a clenched jaw.

“Uhuh, riiiight.” Legend smirked.

“Boys!” Time barked out, clearing the chaos. “Whatever the case may be, let just avoid non-dog-safe foods for now. We don't want to take the risk, and there's no telling how toxic they will or won't be. This time might be vomiting, let's not ponder what comes next.”

They all could seem to agree on that. There was only so much they could do, especially on the road to help him if he at something poisonous.

Hyrule pulled out a pen and paper and slowly they began checking off what was and was not safe to be consumed, going through provisions and marking off anything with such ingredients. Away went garlic and onions. As well as grapes a some other smaller fruits. He was rather happy that he didnt have to give up peppers or pumpkin. It was lucky enough that most foods he couldn’t eat, he generally didn’t as they just rarely crossed his path, and he want too bothered by most of the restrictions. Until it wasn’t.

“Wait, you mean t’ tell me I need t’ avoid chocolate!?” Twilight all but squawked, sitting up much too quickly for his still nauseous body. Of all of them, he himself did not have too much of a sweet tooth, but that wasn’t to say he didn't like sweets at all. If there was one guilty pleasure he allowed himself, it was the occasional dark chocolate. Every year Uli made a batch of it for holidays, and an second one came out around his birthday. It was something he hasn't had in quite a while now that he thinks about it—not since his adventure.

He hadn’t been home for his birthday, and Uli had been a sick around the holidays. And as much as he wanted to he had no time to stop by the fancier chocolate shop that was in castle town whenever Zelda had summoned him.

“Absolutely.” Wild stiffened from his spot, sending a pointed look at him. “Chocolate is borderline deadly to dogs. Even a little can make you horridly sick!” Wild hissed as his hands moved.

“But…” Twilight couldn't quite gather his words, face morphing between emotions. “But...it's chocolate!!” He whined like a child. He sounded more like the youngest of the group instead of one of the oldest. His ears drooped to his shoulders, framing his unconscious look of puppy-dog eyes. “How m’ I supposed t’ avoid chocolate?”

“With a steel resolve and our help.” Sky laughed, “I mean it’s just chocolate. How hard can it be? I didn't even know you liked it that much.”

“Easy fer ya to say! Who doesn’ like chocolate?” Twilight furrowed his brows before rubbing his face with his hands. Two hands went up at his question, but he merely glared at them from under his brow until they fell back to their respective sides.

“I can leave cherries be, and I don' care much else for tha’ other stuff, but this?” Twilight made a rapid gesture with his hands.

“Pup , I think you’ll be fine. I’m sure there is something just as good you can have.” Time glazed at Wild as he spoke, the resident chef, hoping he could come up with something–anything.

“Yeah!” Wild was quick to his feet. “There has got to be something that you like more than chocolate, right?”

Twilight stared up at him with a pitied look in his eye. It was almost comical how the man seemed so distraught over such a sweet, half of them didn’t even know he enjoyed.

“Dark chocolate.”

The other heroes erupted into varying fits of laughter at this. Some like Time simply chuckled, while others, like Warriors or Four, attempted to hide their titters behind a hand or clenched jaw.

“Come on Twilight. We’ll find something….eventually.” Warriors patted his back, but he simply depressed into the man’s side, coming to terms with his turmoil with a sigh.

“Fine. But it better be jus’ as good.”

“It’ll be my greatest feat yet, and my best creation yet, you’ll see! It’ll be better than dark chocolate!” He signed, almost too mast for Twilight to read.

“I doubt that.”

“This one won't kill you so it’s proven to be better.”

Twilight just sighed, stifling his own snicker at the whole ordeal. A feat this surely would be.

[lithiumfae]

Scarred And Half A Man, Chapter 2: Amends That Feel Like a Sentence.

word count: 4,7k

cw:smut, masturbation.

also forgot to mention but reader is a ravenclaw lol

The first night he joined her class he did not notice anything different in her demeanor.

She told the students Quirrell was not going to be joining her lessons again, and that Snape was to replace him. He expected the students to voice their discontent with the change and naturally he got the reactions he anticipated. They all groaned in unison, some with expressions more pained than others.

“Nothing will change, don’t fret. It is only a precaution in case an instance like the one in the girl’s bathroom were to happen again,” she walked to where the three Gryffindors were seated on the floor. “So you,” she crouched in front of them and gave them a smile. “Don’t have to play heroes again.”

“Father said it was a foolish thing to do,” said the blonde Slytherin.

“It was brave nonetheless, mister Malfoy,” she stood up and looked at where Severus was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. “Professor Snape will be here so everything stays calm in case something were to happen.”

“Father said Professor Snape is a great duelist! Why are we not learning spells so we can fight too!” Draco complained.

She started walking towards him. “I’m afraid that is education that goes far beyond my expertise,” The boy pouted. “But we can look at the stars, is that not so appealing, mister Malfoy?” It was clearly intended to be a joke and despite Draco’s usual demeanor he subtly smiled. “Yes? And like I said, Professor Snape is fully capable of defeating a troll, or a giant, or a dragon, perhaps even a werewolf,” the kids were now giggling, taking joy in her blatant teasing. “So strong that he is, your professor.”

Okay, so maybe their fight did not mean much to her if she was now complimenting him and calling him strong. If she had been mad it would have made this whole ordeal a lot more awkward than it needed to be. It seemed like it was a lucky day for him.

But years of dealing with liars and manipulators should have warned him about the possibility of her jokes just being a way to lift up the mood of the disappointed students, after all, he imagines having him present in the class that was supposed to be the most relaxing one could make any first-year feel anxious. The class went by incredibly fast, he did not even feel the need to sneak a little nap in between like he had thought of doing before walking up to the astronomy tower. He was so awake and paying such intense attention to her that he noticed whenever Harry Potter would look back to where he was standing against the wall. The kid was sitting right in front of her, Severus thinks the boy might have thought he was staring at him.

He truly did have his mother’s eyes like Dumbledore had mentioned. He chose to ignore the resemblance because even though his eyes were just like Lily’s, the rest of his appearance resembled James’. Instead he did what he knew how to do best, ignore the big thing that was plaguing his mind and he chose to torture himself with a smaller issue.

This being the way her eyes avoided his.

Prior to their argument, whenever they were in the same room she would always try to look him in the eye. Without lying, this spooked him. Because she did it even when they were not talking to each other, she would be having a conversation with Sprout but looking at him all the way across the room. She reminded him of an owl, with the big intimidating eyes. Not intimidating because they were threatening, but because they looked full of wonder, almost as if she was waiting to ask you a question you did not wish to answer.

She made a point to acknowledge his presence.

Now this was not the case.

After class ended and prefects had taken the students back to their dormitories and they were left alone. Immediately she went to put all her books and her other supplies back into her leather knapsack. Her head was down and her hair was covering half her face. Severus waited for her at the entrance so they could walk down together, his day would end when they were all in their respective chambers.

She was taking her sweet time while also managing to look tense at the same time so he walked a little closer to her desk.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “You see, all went well,” she cleared her throat back, making him think she was about to reply but no words left her mouth so he chose to talk again. “My help was not need–“

“You called me a whore,” she interrupted him.

He was left gagging. “I did not use such a word.”

“You might as well have. For you to imply I enjoy spending time alone in Professor Quirrell’s office it can only mean you think of me in that way,” when she looked up at him her eyes were filled with unshed tears once again, reminiscing of their last interaction.

“And for that I apologize, it was never my intention.”

“Your words sound rehearsed and not sincere at all,” she said in a tearful voice.

Severus furrowed his eyebrows, she was not being reasonable at all. It was very often he said hurtful things to people yet they rarely cried, twice at that. “I truly am sorry, Professor. I got carried away,” he paused for a second. “But I must say I doubt it was the first time a man talked to you like that, so sorry again if what I said hurt you. It was remarkably unprofessional on my part.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked.

“I’m trying to explain to you why at first I did not think an apology was needed. I was wrong.”

She scoffed before wiping her eyes with one of her knuckles. “You are a scary man Severus you can hardly blame me for reacting like this,” she flipped her hair off her shoulder before fixing her knapsack strap. “Oh and I’ll have you know that being called a whore does not get easier the more it happens. I expected you to be more sensible, it seems I was mistaken for thinking you were different than most.”

Dumbfounded by the unexpected continuation of the conversation they had prior to this, Severus simply stood in place with his mouth slightly open as she started walking towards the big door. “I– what–,” he hurried to trail after her. “I am different than most,” he said, sounding like a teenager desperate to be seen as unique. “I am not like those other men you’ve met, I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

She stopped walking and turned to him. “And what kind of man are you, Severus?”

“Well I… do not make habit of calling women names, and I am professional enough to avoid having conflicts with my coworkers,” He was not exactly sure why he was stuttering trying to defend his character. “I must ask you to understand me, the women around me are nothing like you. They wouldn’t have asked for someone to supervise their classes.”

“And now you’re saying I’m not as good as the other professors! You–” she sniffed once. “Well I’m so incredibly sorry for being scared of a bloody troll attacking me while I’m looking at the stars!” She adjusted the strap of her bag again and shook her head before continuing. “I was so relieved Quirrell was replaced with you because you were the one man I trusted not to make it weird once we were left alone in the same room. But coming to think of it, maybe Professor Quirrell and his weird habit of poking me with his quill would have been better than to have you be so hostile to me.”

“I’m not hostile.”

“Are you not? Then tell me what else could I call your knack for glaring at me at any given chance, or how you laugh to yourself whenever I say something not at all amusing.”

If he was quite honest he was not expecting her to be this confrontational. “Then I ask you, what kind of man did you think I was?”

“I thought you quiet, as if your mind were filled with loud thoughts. I found you fascinating.”

“With all due respect, I am not to blame if my true self broke whatever fantasy you had of me,” The entire conversation threatened to turn his brain inside out, it was harrowing for a reason he could not pinpoint. “Like I said last time I advise you to avoid paying attention to me, that way your little head won’t be deceived by baseless assumptions.”

“Very well!”

“Very well,” he repeated menacingly. “But I want you to remember I did try to apologize.”

“If you call that an apology then I feel bad for the other women in your life. Do you use female tears to brew your potions?”

Vixen.

“Whatever I choose to do with other women is nothing you should worry about… well, you do think about me often enough that I’m sure your mind will provide vivid imaginations to quiet your questions. If you’ll excuse me,” he spat before turning around and walking, almost flying, to his chambers.

Right before he turned around a corner she yelled, “I rather spend a week with Filch and his bloody cat than to breathe near you ever again!”

So much for an apology, he thought.

By the time he got to his room his robes were making his skin itch so he practically tore them off of him. He thought, “that’s what I get for trying to apologize,” Dumbledore‘s disapproving expression last time they had talked was what finally pushed him to step on the twig. He supposes you cannot be a worthy leader if your face alone is not capable of making people do things, in this opportunity it was to make Severus feel guilty.

He went to lay down on his bed, he felt like he was about to have a heart attack.

How pathetic it was of him to be so short of breath because for once he had not won an argument. His skin felt itchy, and he also felt hot all over. For a moment he thought he was actually dying or something of the sort, his legs felt weak, his hands numb.

However, even if he kept his interactions with the female gender as scarce as he could, he was not clueless. He knew very well that what he was feeling in that very moment had little to do with anger and annoyance.

He knew his body was betraying him. There was no other explanation as to why he felt the exact same way he remembered feeling back when he was a foolish teenager who got excited after that older Hufflepuff girl stroked his hair once. He was being utterly pathetic.

He was aware his brain was his best asset. The one thing he focused on training. He had never regretted not paying more attention to his body as he did at that moment, for it was acting on its own accord. Leave it to his body to feel aroused after having an argument with the one attractive woman he knew.

Was it adrenaline? Because he had read about how after surviving dangerous situations, some peoples circulatory systems acted up out of nowhere. After all she could be quite scary when the smile had been wiped off her face.

It would have been so much easier if her face were not so alluring. Because Severus was anything but blind.

His dexterity had more to do with his immunity to people's tricks, but he would be foolish to deprive himself of appreciating someone’s beauty. Honestly, that was all there was to her. He thought of her as a pretty shell lacking of a pearl on the inside.

He had long given up on denying her appeal, although he had never expected himself to take after the silly man that trailed after her because of her appearance. He was better than them in every aspect.

But clearly enough, even if his intelligence excelled those of the most noble men, he was only a man at the end of the day.

She was nothing like those aristocratic wives he got to see a couple times a year, no, to him she was a childish woman who seemed to have been raised by parents made out of cotton. With the way she so foolishly treated everyone as if they were dear to her. He supposes her personality could also be seen reflected on her overall appearance, she looked naïve. Why were her cheeks permanently rosey? She looked agitated all day long. She was not overly slim and her limbs were not long and elegant like those of McGonagall for example. She did not possess the finesse Narcissa Malfoy did.

The more he thought about her the more he realized she left a lot to desire if she wished to be called a woman.

But sincerely, who was he trying to fool when even though he barely saw her as a woman, he was still laying on his bed with a prominent erection in his pants. It was as if he was trying to convince an audience when he was the only one in that room. The shame was so great he battled his thoughts for a couple minutes.

He was aroused, that much was clear.

Carnal needs were not something he was much to acquainted with, but even someone like him knew a night of rest would not come easily if he chose to ignore the problem. It was safe to say that he was very much a novice of masturbation. To him it always felt degrading, but when the time came he knew he had to get on with it.

With his cheeks burning as if he were standing right above a boiling cauldron, he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed. Removing all his clothes made it all seem more real than his brain would like it to be, so he chose to pull down his trousers along with his undergarments. It had been so long since he succumbed to the last resort that masturbation was, that he hesitated a few seconds before he placed his hand around his penis. At first his hand felt like that of a stranger, because of course, it was now that his brain decided to try to detach itself from the situation. But it was far too late.

Shaking his head as if to clear it up, he squeezed. His loud moan echoing in the room and going back to his ears, this made him feel humiliated. But he had to keep going. Noticing the way the touch of his hand against his skin was too dry, he took his hand near his mouth and licked his palm. Quickly returning to what it was doing prior. His thin bony fingers making a sound that was nothing but torture to Severus’ ears, what he was doing at that moment was a confirmation about what she had told him.

He was in fact, like those other men. Because here he was, masturbating after having a conversation with her. And of course, how could he not make up an image of her in his brain while he was working himself up.

In the hazy fantasy that bedeviled his mind, she had a wild look on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed the same way they had been when they were fighting, her cheeks even more cherry than usual. All in all she painted a perfect picture of what one would describe as anger and frustration. Because oh, his weak state of mind at the moment let him entertain the idea of finding her attractive when she looked displeased by him. There was something so inherently arousing about a normally sweet woman that went feral over a stupid man.

He never thought himself to be someone with a liking for degradation of any sort, that had not changed now even though his hand was quickly going up and back down on his cock. But Merlin, imagining her being angry at him more often sure did wonders for his otherwise dead libido.

By now, the hand he was not using was supporting his body as it leaned back a little, his head thrown back in place. He opened his legs wider because he felt like he was about to fall to the ground even though he was sitting on his bed. Being inexperienced when it came to self pleasure, he did not know what he wanted. He was not sure if he wanted it fast and to hurt a little, or if he wanted to drag it out. So he tried both.

He started by borderline abusing his cock, he went up and down and in a matter of seconds his skin turned a little red due to the friction.

“Fuck,” he whimpered pathetically. His voice going an octave higher, making him sound like a whiny and desperate man. Nothing like the way he presented himself.

When the pleasure started to gloss his eyes over he let himself indulge in his fantasies. He promised himself it would be the last time he let that happen.

He noticed the way her hands were always manicured. It would be a sight to have one of them wrapped around him. She would not be talkative, he thought she was the type to get straight to it. The only voice filling up the room would be his.

“That okay?” She would ask.

At that mental image he moaned even louder. He squeezed the base of his cock because he felt on edge, the pain made him come back to reality. That reality being himself sitting on his bed, with his clothes all pulled in funny ways so he could have access to his penis, his knees almost touching because of how good he was feeling. His entire body curled into itself.

He thought retaking the position he was in before that was the smartest decision. So he went back to supporting his weight on one of his arms, his neck relaxing again.

His wet hand started stroking himself again. The squelching noise being amplified by the fact that his eyes were closed, giving his ears more to focus on. By this point he felt like his body did not know how to react to all the sensations he was not used to. The utter ignorance made him end up tightening his fist around the head and thrust his hips upwards. And good Merlin, did that do it for him.

He went at it for a few very short minutes before he was involuntary standing up, still fucking his fist.

He thought he must have looked like a madman, all alone in his room, groaning like a rabid dog and fucking his hand. Doing all that while standing on his legs and looking at the ceiling.

It was not long before he came all over the carpet at the end of his bed.

The shame being entirely too much for him so he decided to ignore the stain for now, getting rid of it would be a task for the Severus of tomorrow.

He did not have more than a few months to feel bad about what he did. And yes, months is a short time for Severus, considering the fact he was the type to beat himself up for years. That being said, his wallowing was cut short abruptly because of Harry Potter.

Yes.

If Severus was the type to drown in self pity, Harry Potter was the type to have a teacher try to kill him even though he was barely eleven.

Sometimes he wondered if having the Harry Potter at Hogwarts was putting the rest of the students in danger. Never in the history of the school had a teacher carried a dark wizard on the back of his head. It was mental.

The fidgety man managed to fool almost everyone, including the Gryffindor trio who would go out of their way to make students shut their mouths whenever Quirrell stuttered and laughter filled the classroom. But a man experienced with deception such as Severus could not be outwitted. Bloody Quirrell had been scheming the entire time just as Severus had suspected. His injured leg could not have been enough proof to tell the rest of the school staff but it had been enough for Dumbledore to believe him. So to say the revelation came as a surprise to everyone would have been a lie.

Harry Potter had survived yet again thanks to Lily’s sacrifice. As it seemed the Dark Lord stood no chance against the love of a mother. And because Severus was a selfish man, he found a way to make it about himself. He thought Lily always accomplished her task of reminding him just how deep of a mark she had left in him, even after all these years. Previous to this ordeal the only woman in his mine was the other professor. He was occupied avoiding her while also thinking about her face all the hours he spent awake. She was honestly poisoning him. But now looking at Harry’s eyes all he could think about was the obsolete possibility of him ever moving on. After all, Lily's child depended on him now. Those big bright eyes looking up at him as he stood next to the burnt body of his professor made him feel guilty for ever thinking about other women.

Women were a distraction. He supposes everything is a distraction when the life of a child depends on you entirely, because to him Dumbledore’s words were nothing but null promises to make himself sound like a martyr. At the end of the day Harry Potter was going to be his responsibility for the next six years

After all was done Dumbledore took Harry and his friends to his office where McGonagall was already waiting, next to her was sitting the very woman tormenting his thoughts. The small Weasley child started wailing as soon as the woman gave him a little sad smile, apparently her face alone acted as some sort of switch for tears as the other two brats threatened to drown everyone in the room with the tears rolling down their cheeks. A sea of tears, quite literally. The student next to his friends was putting on a tough guy façade, he didn’t join the hug she was offering. It was honestly a sorry sight, it was enough to move Severus and his ice cold heart so he turned around as if it was also his responsibility to avoid hurting Harry Potter’s ego.

So that is how he chose to spend the next hour or so, filling a space in the room with the other teachers who were also not the best at comforting scared children. Ronald Weasley cried until his eyes resembled potatoes.

“Oh but Harry was so brave, wasn’t he?” She said, letting the question hang in the air as she had not asked that to anyone in particular. She only meant to comfort the boy in a way that did not require physical contact.

Harry simply nodded, sniffing before replying. “I did not give him the stone,” he said.

“So I heard Harry. What a brave boy you are.” Ronald’s yawn interrupted her before she could continue.

Dumbledore clasped his hands as he moved to stand up, “ I believe it is time you three go to the dormitories, Merlin knows Harry needs it.”

“I’m quite alright sir,” he said eyeing his sleepy friend that had yet to let go of the other professor.

She shook her head and gently touched the ginger boy’s head. “It’s for the best you all go,” she looked at Severus. “Could you walk them to their common room?”

Dumbfounded by her voice being directed at him, all he did was nod. “Let us go then, children.”

“Ah! C-could you go with us, Miss?” Granger nervous voice reach his ears. “It’s, umm… Girl stuff…” she trailed. It was so clearly a lie to everyone in the office but they all pretended to be none the wiser

The children feared him.

“Oh yes. I’ll go too so we can talk.”

They made their way to the Dormitories remarkably fast. The Weasley boy trailing after Harry and flinching at any shadow his eyes saw, while Harry and Granger walked close to the woman.

When they reached the Gryffindor door Harry turned around before going in and looked at her. “Were you a Gryffindor too?” His big light eyes looked at her in wonder.

“No, I’m a Ravenclaw. I’m all brains no bravery I’m afraid, nothing like you three.” The fourth of them giggled. “So thank you Harry, thank you for keeping us safe.”

The boy let out a silly giggle that served to remind Severus just how young he truly was, he found him quite annoying most days so it was easy for him to forget Harry Potter was an eleven year old. “Always Miss.”

“Now, inside you go come on,” she ushered them in. She turned to look at Granger and cocked her head. “Or did you still want to talk Hermione?”

“No. I must have forgotten.” She said with a tinkle in her brown eyes, the same thing Severus could see in the woman’s eyes. They seemed to be sharing a joke only the two of them could understand.

“Alright then, have a good night.”

The trio voiced their goodbyes and disappeared. As soon as they were out of their sight, she looked at him and said, “How do you do it?”

“Do what exactly?”

“Lie to them, I mean,” quickly realizing her words had come off as an attack, she rushed to say, “I meant, how do you lie to Harry Potter. How do you make him feel safe when you know he’s clearly not.”

“Well I’m not sure yet, this is the first Harry Potter I meet.” She shook her head while looking at the floor to hide the smile his lame attempt at a joke had caused.

She sighed. “It’s not fair, this poor child has so much coming his way. He’s just a boy.”

Severus simply made a noise in agreement. “In this world most situations are not fair.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she lifted her hand to fix the hair framing her face. Her skin looked dull, unlike her every day self. He though that if she took everything that happened to students so serious she was bound to burn out soon enough. “How have you been Severus, it feels like I only ever see the back of your head.”

“Must I remind you we see each other every Wednesday.”

“But even then we don’t talk, do we?”

Was she really attempting to rekindle ON they spent months acting like the other one did not exist. How dare she try to, in her own way, apologize when he was the one that made her cry. “Don’t go there.”

“I just feel like engaging in petty fights is overkill when the school could take one of us out any day.”

“Not very optimistic are you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

She looked at him through her curled lashes for a few seconds too long before reaching out with her hand to pat him on the head as if he was a bloody dog in need of affection. She smiled before opening her mouth again, “We must be at least in good terms in case something bad happens. I would not enjoy asking for help if we are on that terms, you’ll find I’d rather die than ask for saving if I don’t like someone.”

“Very well then.”

And because Severus was not used to blushing he made a quick exit to go back to his chambers so he could drink a feel-well potion as he was clearly coming down with something given the heat on his face.

She had really petted him at two in the morning.

[writingsofwerewolves]

I'm working on a bit of a werewolf horror story. Here's the first bit. Very rough. Not edited. But thought I'd share.

Gore warning. And later the story is gonna have some shifted werewolf sex that's extremely noncon because this shit is gonna be dark.

Fair warning, I'm not a horror writer so don't expect the tension and stuff to be like... good. But still, I'm having fun and that's what matters.

Chapter 1

“These tunnels were used during the Civil War,” Josephine enthused, her voice echoing ominously against the stone walls, “I can’t believe no one’s been down here since then.”

“I can,” Gunther wrinkled his nose, “It reeks.”

Josephine inhaled deeply, a smile on her face, “It smells like history to me. Rich history. Just think of how many people used these passageways to escape the south two hundred years ago.”

“Can they help me escape the south now?” Jayce muttered in a voice that was clearly meant to be quiet and unheard but with the small space, it carried through the tunnel.

“Mood,” Talia replied wearily, “Josie, we should turn around before we get lost.”

“We won’t get lost,” she held up her smart phone, “I’m drawing out every turn we take. Relax, guys.”

The group pressed on, following the light of Josephine’s flashlight ahead of them. The tunnels were dark, musty, and damp. Each step echoed strangely around them in the tight space.

“Whoa, hold on,” Jayce breathed, “Shush.”

Everyone quieted and Josephine turned back to look at them, “What?”

“Do you hear that?” Jayce asked.

The group was silent, straining their ears. There was the sound of footsteps, soft but close. Josephine moved the flashlight to look around urgently.

“Hey, where’s Aaron?” she asked.

Talia said, “He’s right behind—” she broke off when she turned and saw no one was there. “Fuck. Aaron!” she called.

“Quiet!” Jayce hissed in a low whisper, their eyes full of concern, “I think something’s down here.”

“You-you’re being paranoid, Jay,” Josephine shook her head, though her voice sounded unsteady, “We better find Aaron though. He’s supposed to be filming.”

“You’re probably just hearing Aaron,” Gunther pointed out to Jayce, “Where’s the sound coming from?”

Jayce pointed a shaking finger down one of the tunnel’s branches.

“Then let’s go,” Josie said, leading the way.

The new tunnel was a tighter squeeze, forcing them to go in a single file. Josephine led the way confidently, her phone in one hand and her flashlight in the other. Jayce stuck close at her back, their own flashlight held tightly in their shaking hand. Gunther, the largest of the bunch, had to shimmy sideways through parts the smaller tunnel, slowly him down and creating a small gap between him and Jayce as he struggled to keep up. Talia brought up the rear, using her phone as a flashlight to keep glancing behind her, having the strange feeling that she was being watched.

The tunnel had a lot of curves, but no branches off it, giving the group no chance to change directions. Either they had to continue forward or turn back. And Josephine was no where near ready to turn back.

“Aaron!” she called, “Come on, this isn’t funny.”

No one responded.

“We should go home,” Jayce whispered fearfully.

“We have to at least find Aaron first,” Gunther pointed out.

“And besides,” Josephine began, “We’re nearly—oh!”

She broke off as suddenly the tunnel opened up ahead of them, into a large circular room. Josephine stepped into it, Jayce right at her back, as she looked around in awe. It was fairly dark, but the surprisingly tall ceiling had a grate in the center, opening up to the sky. Filtered sunlight trickled down into the center of the room, on to a raised surface.

Gunther was farther behind and Josephine already had begun examining the room with interest when he sgtepped in, Talia a few steps behind him.

“I don’t think we should be here,” Talia whispered, remaining in the tunnel, eyeing the room anxiously, “It seems—” her words broke off into a scream when she felt something grab her from behind.

Her scream startled the whole group. Jayce, who had kept themself pressed close to Josephine, lost their footing and fell with a yelp onto the raised surface in the center of the room. The yelp became an exclaimation of pain.

“Oh, shit,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the tunnel.

“Aaron!” Talia pulled out of his grip and slapped his arm, “The fuck?”

“Sorry,” Aaron said sheepishly, a camcorder held in one hand, aimed at Talia’s face, “I thought it’d make a funny video.”

“Jayce,” Josephine breathed, rushing to their side, “Are you okay?”

“No,” they groaned, pushing themself up into a sitting position on the raised center and clutching their hand.

“Shit,” Gunther said, opening his pack and pulling out supplies, “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

“I fell onto this thing,” they pointed at the surface they sat on, “Something sharp went into my hand. It… ah…”

Talia moved closer and looked at the object. It looked like a metal grate with raised walls.

“Is this a well?” Talia asked as Gunther tended to Jayce’s injured hand.

“Looks like it,” Josephine said, looking down into it. She shined her flashlight into it. Jayce’s blood was on the grate, dripping down into the deep hole. With the light, Josephine and Talia were able to see dark shapes. Rocks, they thought, at the bottom.

“No water down there,” Josephine remarked, “Not anymore, at least.”

She looked up, at the grate in the ceiling.

“Strange. I wonder if people lived here,” she said, beginning to shine her flashlight around the room, “Maybe this wasn’t just for transit. Maybe it—fuck!”

She dropped her flashlight, clutching her chest.

“What?” Talia asked urgently, moving to Josie’s side and helping her steady herself on her feet.

Josie pointed a shaky finger across the room, “I thought I saw something move.”

Talia lifted her phone, shining its flashlight in that direction and gasped herself. There was a dark lump and with the movement of the light, it did look like it was moving itself. A second of observation, however, reassured Talia that it indeed was not moving.

“What is that?” Aaron asked, aiming his camera at it as Talia took tentative steps forward.

“It looks like… fur,” Talia breathed, moving closer.

“Careful!” Aaron warned, “Might be a bear!”

“These tunnels have been locked up for over a hundred years,” Josie pointed out, “Even if it was a bear, it’s dead now.”

Talia continued to step towards it. It was indeed fur. A lot of fur. Black fur. Without thinking, she reached out her hand and pressed it against the figure.

She let out a long breath as she felt stiffness beneath her hand. The fur itself was soft, but the flesh below was hard. Dead.

“Gross,” Aaron said, making sure his camera was catching all of it.

Talia felt overwhelming sadness as she stroked the dead creature’s fur. A poor creature had wandered into the tunnel, gotten stuck, and died. Alone. Starving. Never to be seen again.

“We need to go,” Gunther said, helping Jayce to their feet once their hand was wrapped, “Jayce needs to go to a hospital. There’s no telling what type of infection they could get from that.”

“But—” Josephine began to protest. A firm look from Gunther had her shutting her mouth, “Fine. Come on, Talia.”

Talia didn’t move, her hand still buried in the fur of the creature.

Aaron rolled his eyes and grabbed Talia’s arm, “Let’s go, beautiful.”

Talia looked back longingly as she was dragged into the tunnel, away from the hunk of black fur. She didn’t know why. It was just a dead animal. But she didn’t want to leave it.

“We’ll be back,” Josephine called as she lead the way through the tunnel, “There’s a lot more to find down here and I want credit for it all.

Chapter 2

“Did you hear?” Josephine asked as she collapsed onto her bed.

Talia sighed and looked away from her laptop, “Hear what?”

“A bunch of hunters were killed in the woods last night. Serves them right, hunting innocent deer. But it’s got everyone on campus thinking there’s a bear or something causing trouble. They’re implementing a curfew.”

“That’ll certainly mess up our plans,” Talia frowned deeply, closing her laptop and spinning her chair to face Josephine, “We’re still going, right?”

“Of course. Once I can get Gunther and Jayce on board. We’re just going to have to be careful who sees us leaving.”

“Jayce won’t come. Not after what happened. They’re lucky they didn’t lose a hand.”

Josephine shrugged, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Talia rolled her eyes, “Sure. If Jayce doesn’t come, I doubt Gunther will. It might just be us.”

“And Aaron.”

“Really?” Talia wrinkled her nose, “Why him?”

“He has a camera.”

“We all have cameras. They’re called cell phones.”

“Not with enough storage to record everything. Not unless we’re livestreaming and I didn’t get any reception down there. We need a real camera.”

“Fine,” Talia sighed, “When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Night?”

“I have classes all day. It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so…”

~

“And another right…” Josephine said, leading the way through the tunnels.

“Maybe I should take the lead,” Aaron suggested.

“Josie’s the one that recorded the path,” Talia reminded him.

“Yeah, but she’s not good with directions.”

Josephine turned back to glare at him, “Since when?”

“It’s a biological fact,” he shrugged, “Women aren’t good with directions.”

Talia and Josie exchanged weary looks before Josephine returned her attention to the instructions she’d written on her cell phone, “I’ve got it for now. Thanks.”

With Aaron bringing up the rear, his camera on and recording, the group made their way through the tunnels. Josephine moved quicker once they found the skinny tunnel that they were looking for and before too long, they were there.

The circular room opened up before them, the moonlight trickling down from the grate in the ceiling.

“That’s… different,” Josie said, moving towards the well in the center of the room. The grate covering it was open.

“None of you came down here after we left, right?” Josie asked, shining her flashlight down the opened well.

“No,” Talia confirmed, lifting her phone to shine its light around the room, “Uh… where’s the bear?”

Aaron shifted the camera around, searching the room. There was nothing.

“What if it wasn’t dead?” Aaron whispered, “Maybe it opened the grate. Probably smelled Jay’s fresh blood on it.”

“It was stiff,” Talia shook her head, “It couldn’t… I mean… I touched it and it didn’t move. It was cold.”

Josephine let out a shiver and pulled her jacket tighter around her body, “I think we should go.”

“What?” Aaron demanded, “You’re the one that wanted to come back.”

She swallowed hard and shook her head, “I know, but… something feels wrong.”

“Yeah,” Talia agreed, “Come on.”

The group made their way hurriedly through the tunnels again, Aaron still following behind with the camera.

“Hold up,” he called, stopping and getting down on one knee, aiming the camera at the ground.

The two women backtracked to join him.

“Is that a bear paw print?” he asked, the camera buzzing as he adjusted its focus to bring the imprint better into view.

“Might be,” Josie breathed, putting her hand over it without touching it, “It’s huge.”

“Not a bear,” Talia said in a whisper, “Bears have more toes. That looks… canine.”

Aaron looked up at her, “Canine? Like a wolf?”

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Wolves don’t get that big,” Josie argued, “It’s like a foot long…”

“All I know is it’s not a bear,” Talia said defensively, “And… we should get outta here.”

“Right,” Aaron agreed, “Move.”

The group continued their hurried journey to the surface. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when they were free of the musty air.

“My car’s this way,” Josephine said, beginning to lead the way through the trees.

Aaron walked beside Talia, his camera strapped to his back.

“So any plans this weekend?”

“I have a few papers to write,” she replied, “You?”

“I just thought maybe we could do something together,” he shrugged, “The bowling alley’s open again. You like bowling, right?”

“Kinda. I’m not very good,” she admitted sheepishly, “I haven’t played since I was a kid and they put the gutters up.”

He grinned, “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

“Oh,” she replied, her voice going slightly higher, “That’s… kind of you. Like I said, though, I’m busy this weekend.”

“Sure, sure,” he waved a dismissive hand, “Next weekend maybe.”

“Maybe,” she agreed tensely, “My workload is pretty big this semester though.”

“Well, maybe we could study together and--”

He broke off when a scream ahead of them interrupted his words.

“Josie?” Talia called, breaking into a run to catch up to her friend.

As the pair ran, Aaron quickly readied his camera, turning it on. They found Josephine, who was standing still, her body vibrating as she looked ahead of her.

Talia followed her gaze and saw, leaning against a tree, a bloodied human figure.

“Oh, fuck,” Aaron breathed, his camera buzzing as it zoomed in.

“We must’ve passed him on our way in,” Josie breathed shakily, “But we didn’t look back so we didn’t see…”

“Is he dead?” Aaron asked.

“Go check,” Talia hissed, holding Josie’s shoulders comfortingly.

“Why me?” Aaron demanded.

“Go!” Talia repeated.

“Fine,” he grumbled, camera aimed at the figure as he took tentative steps closer. Once he was near, he saw the state the body was in. One arm was missing, a chunk was taken from a leg, and its neck was barely more than a giant gaping wound. “Definitely dead. Oh… huh…”

He knelt down, the camera focusing on the ground near the body.

“What is it?” Talia called.

Aaron looked over his shoulder at the women and said darkly, “A giant paw print.”

[tegdoh]

Haunted

For @remadoramicrofics prompt of the same name

Halloween 1995

Walking carefully down the dimly lit hallway, Tonks managed to avoid both the umbrella stand and multiple snags in the carpet runner as she made her way towards the library. Only to be stopped cold by Sirius tossing a “fuck off, Moony!” over his shoulder as he stomped out of the room.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he demanded when he noticed Tonks standing in the hallway. Pushing past without waiting for an answer he took the stairs to the second floor two at a time.

She turned to find Remus standing in the doorway of the library. “Tonks. Why are you here?” His question had none of the warmth she had come to expect from him during her ever-more-frequent visits to Grimmauld Place. That more than Sirius’ foul mood caused her to second-guess her surprise visit.

“I was on my way to a fancy dress party, and thought I’d stop by.” Tonks smoothed the front of her black leather skirt self-consciously. She allowed her morph to slip away, her own features replacing the stringy black hair, crooked nose and green skin. The pointed black hat remained on the floor where it had fallen when Sirius brushed past her. “I brought chocolate,” she added awkwardly.

Remus rubbed his forehead, and with obvious effort offered her a wan smile. “I’m sorry, it’s not a good time. This time of year …” He trailed off and Tonks had a sudden, sinking realization.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s Halloween. I should have thought…. I never think.”

“You needn’t be, really,” and this time his smile was more genuine, if sad. “It was thoughtful of you to stop by. It’s just … Sirius is still haunted by that night. We both are, really,” he shrugged, indicating the half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. “But you should go, have fun with your friends.”

There was a sadness in his eyes, beyond his normal careworn appearance. Tonks had a sudden vision of countless Halloween nights spent alone and grieving. At that moment her mind was made up.

“Nope. Not until you at least try the chocolate," she insisted. "I brought the good stuff, Honeydukes’ dark truffle. Should go well with the Ogden’s, I’d think.” She walked to the sideboard and helped herself to a generous drink, then pulled the bar of Honeydukes from her bag.

“You must have better things to do than spend your Halloween evening with a dour old werewolf," he tried.

“Old? Bullcrap,” she snorted. “Mad-Eye is old. You are ... distinguished,” she decided with a flourish of her glass, managing to slosh half the contents onto the rug.

His objection had seemed half-hearted to begin with, and now she was rewarded with a genuine smile. “Alright. Nymphadora.”

“And don’t call me Nymphadora.”

They spent the rest of the evening savoring the chocolate and whisky. She told him of trick-or-treating with her dad, one of the few outings she could enjoy with her muggle cousins since any change in her appearance could be explained away as a costume. Remus relaxed as the evening wore on, and even shared a few stories from his days at Hogwarts.

As they sipped the last glass of Ogden’s he became quiet again, staring into the fire. “I don’t remember much about those first few weeks after the attack. Apparently I went on quite the rampage, hunting Death Eaters. Mad-Eye stopped me. He probably saved my life. For the longest time I didn’t know whether or not to be grateful or furious.”

“And now?”

“Now,” he looked into her eyes and Tonks felt something shift. Something she realized she had wanted for some time. “Now I feel like I’ve been given a second chance.”

[victorluvsalice]

-->While Smiler was bopping away, Victor had finished his upgrading, so I had him transportalate down to the greenhouse, change into more appropriate clothes, and start tending all the plants (a process made a little bit harder today by his bees being angry about life and stinging him occasionally). Alice, meanwhile, was stopped from going out to shower in the rain (Erratic Sims…) and forced to finish her breakfast and take a quick wolf nap to calm her instincts before I sent her out to feed Toothy the cowplant and the poor starving chickens. Fortunately going out in the thunderstorm didn’t make her scared (one of the few perks of a Sim being Erratic) – though it did break her umbrella, so that wasn’t great. Despite this, though, she got everybody fed, cleaned out the coop, and got all five eggs waiting in said coop without incident. Feeling both proud of her for staying on task and bad that I'd made her work in the rain, I then directed her to head inside and up to her and Victor’s bedroom, before having her change into her outfit with the Delicate “bad mood calming” bracelet and start working on her latest book again (the mystery “Who Stole The Tarts?” in case you need a reminder – I did!). She plugged away at that for a bit while I checked in on Victor – he’d finished all his tending, so I decided to have him super-sell his garden –

After he’d bonded with his bees to stop them being so angry. And after he’d evolved his taro root. And after he’d gathered soy wax off his soy plant. And after he’d gotten a pee – which involved him magically fixing the downstairs toilet because at some point it broke (I think the moment he tried to sit down on it, in fact). And after he’d given Surprise a lecture on scratching the furniture. I’m saying it took a WHILE to get to super-selling all that produce. XD But he did get there eventually, poor guy!

-->And then I looked at Alice again and noticed her Fury was getting really high because, despite her bracelet’s best efforts, her “gotta be outside” werewolf instincts were giving her lip. I quickly sent her out into the backyard (fortunately the rain had calmed down to a drizzle at this point, AND her umbrella was back in good repair) and had her somber howl to lower her Fury – then, deciding I wanted to be extra safe on a party day, sent her back up to the séance room to meditate the rest of it away. Smiler, meanwhile, was finally allowed to stop dancing for the camera (I’d left them like that for a while because, uh, it was just easier ^^;) and upload the video to their production station so they could start editing it and adding effects and transitions and all that jazz. Victor, for his part, finished his super-selling at last – I immediately made him Repairio the wind farm (those things break SOOO MUCH) and smash up a twisted tendril growing outside Moory’s pen before having him harvest the prairie grass in said pen. XD No rest for the wicked – or the magical! Though he got a pretty good harvest out of the prairie grass – not only did he bundle up plenty of hay, he also found a bottle of potato nectar – and a bottle of VITALITY nectar. AKA the nectar that can deage Sims and bring ghosts back to life. O.o So yeah, that right there? That is the GOOD stuff. Have to remember to get him to store it in the aging racks later!

-->Anyway – while Victor was getting that done, Smiler uploaded and hyped their finished video (just in time for it to be included in the royalty money for the day, nice), then ran downstairs to lecture Shock for scratching furniture and drinking from puddles. I couldn’t get a good picture of either as Shock kept running away from Smiler to do something else as they tried to lecture her (like going to drink from puddle in the bathroom while Smiler was trying to tell her no scratching the living room chairs), but the lessons DID take, and Shock has learned not to do either thing anymore. Hooray! I then had Smiler mop up all the puddles around the place and take a quick shower as I checked in on Alice – to my delight, she was completely Fury-less! Yay! :D And even better, I quickly discovered an activity to keep her busy while I tried to wrangle Smiler and Victor (Smiler, finished with their shower, was trying to mold the clay blob in the bathroom from last episode while Victor wanted to chat with them) – the laundry! The hamper was starting to look a biiit full, so I had her search everyone’s pockets, then load up the washer with the clothes and a chrysanthemum and set them tumbling. Victor and Smiler had headed back up to Smiler’s room to dance to the tunes coming out of their radio at this point, so I just had Alice head up and join them for a little dance party –

[rembytem]

Dan’s First Full Moon

Content warning for:

-graphic violence

-blood

-animal violence

-death

Kevin triple-checks his inventory and runs through anything he might potentially need as well. As the full moon approached, Kevin anxiously demanded he pick Dan up for his friend’s first transformation. He felt and still feels incredibly responsible for Dan becoming a bitten werewolf so he’s going to do everything in his power to keep Dan safe from himself.

They had been talking after Dan’s impromptu hospital visit about the wonderful and scary new changes his body will go through. Kevin joked that it felt like explaining puberty except with more teeth and fur in the hopes it would lighten the mood. Thankfully, Dan replied with another joke. Kevin warned Dan of the sensitivity to light, sound, and smell as his eyes, ears, and nose adjust to the lycanthropy. His nose especially will make it hard to be outside because of the onslaught of new smells all at once.

“Sometimes you’ll feel really lonely. That’s normal so don’t be afraid to reach out to friends and family. That’s the wolf in you trying to find comfort in a pack,” Kevin explained on a call one night. “Next time you visit, I’ll teach you about pack life and we can howl together to strengthen pack bond. If you don’t mind that I consider you part of my pack that is,” Kevin feels embarrassed for suggesting it but making a pack with Dan will ease the new werewolf’s loneliness. If Dan decides to have different packmates that don’t include Kevin, he doesn’t think he’d mind that too much. Kevin was the one who failed to protect Dan after all. Why would he want someone weak in his pack?

*        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *

Kevin drove to Dan’s and picked him up in the afternoon since the drive to the forest where Kevin normally shifts is rather far. The drive is so tense Kevin is worried Dan might snap from the pressure. His hands are clenched into fists so tightly Dan’s knuckles are white. Dan finally breaks the silence, Kevin pretending not to hear Dan’s heartbeat thrumming in his chest.

“Is this normal? To feel so tense and so tired?” Dan asks softly.

“Yeah, especially for your first shift,” Kevin replies. “It’s probably going to be the most uncomfortable you’ll feel.” Dan grumbles at that. The sound almost becomes a growl, which Kevin picks up on. Silence stretches between them until Dan seems to steel himself.

“What’s it like for you when you shift on a full moon?” Dan asks. He shifts his gaze from the road so he can look at Kevin. Kevin briefly matches Dan’s gaze but keeps his posture relaxed so Dan’s lupine instincts don’t take this as a challenge. He doesn’t want to appear threatening.

“Since I was born a werewolf, I technically don't have to shift on the full moon but it hurts when I don’t. Kinda like I worked out super hard the day before so my muscles are super achy and sore. Actually shifting? I’ve been doing it so much I barely feel it. But the other bitten werewolves I’ve met say their first shift hurts a lot because it takes the longest,” Kevin admits. “Sorry, that’s not very helpful.” He offers Dan a weak smile. Dan returns the smile.

“It’s okay. I’m just a bit anxious about it. You’ve done this before right?” Dan asks worriedly.

“Of course! I’ve told you before; I come from a family of born werewolves who take care of freshly bitten werewolves and show them how to wolf,” Kevin assures.

“What would the ideal scenario be tonight?” Dan asks as he plays with the hem of his jacket. Kevin flashes his eyes up to the sky before flicking them back down to the road. He tightens his grip on the wheel.

“You don’t immediately see me as a threat and we can run in the woods together. But that’s only happened a handful of times of the tens of bitten werewolves we’ve helped. Most of the time, we’ve had to tie them up so they don’t attack humans. We typically put muzzles on bitten werewolves after they shift in case they get loose and try to bite someone.” Dan visibly wilts at that to the point Kevin could practically smell his apprehension.

“You’ll stop me before I get loose, right?” Dan asks, voice shaky. Kevin spares a glance from the road and makes eye contact and Dan catches his breath. Kevin’s expression is resolute and probably the most somber Dan’s ever seen him.

“On my life, I’ll stop you,” Kevin promises. Something in Dan’s chest loosens and he finds himself sighing with relief, grateful that Kevin will protect others from him. Dan’s eyes are glassy as he smiles weakly at Kevin.

“Thank you Kevin,” Dan says softly. The rest drive of the drive is spent in silence except for the sound of Dan’s heart beating, albeit slower than earlier. It feels all too long and too fast as they race the setting sun to the forest. By the time they’ve reached the woods, the sun has completely sunk below the horizon. Kevin exits the driver’s seat pops the trunk open. The boxes of supplies he brought greet him, the silver chains sitting on top, front and center. Slipping on a pair of leather gloves, he takes the silver chains and lock and wraps them around the trunk of a large tree. Kevin can feel Dan’s eyes watching him intensely. He tries not to shiver. Kevin then pulls out a collar and muzzle from the box and puts them into the pocket in his hoodie. They were specially made by born werewolves so they’re woven with silver threads. Because it’s only thread, the collar and muzzle can still break but it’ll just take a lot longer. It also won’t burn as badly as pure silver like the chains. Kevin shuts the trunk door and just finishes attaching the collar to the chain when a sharp gasp from the passenger seat brings Kevin’s attention back to Dan as he spills from the car onto the grass.

“Shit,” Kevin curses as he rushes to Dan’s side. The moon is just barely filtering through the trees but it’s enough to spur Dan’s transformation. Dan cries out and his hand reaches out desperately so Kevin grasps it firmly. He doesn’t care that Dan his gripping it too tightly, using his werewolf strength unintentionally. He needs to be strong for Dan. He needs to be here for Dan. Dan’s body curls in on itself as his bones start rearranging themselves, cracking and mending in a cacophony of pain. He howls in agony as he squeezes Kevin’s hand, fresh claws digging into his skin. Dan’s face elongates into the muzzle of a wolf’s as his teeth become fangs that pick up the light of the moon. He’s panting heavily through the entire transformation, which Kevin chooses to see as a good thing. Blood seeps from Dan’s gums while his jaws were clenched from the pain. Dan’s snout is long for a wolf and Kevin can’t help but empathize with how it must have felt like an agonizing eternity during the shift. Kevin runs his fingers through Dan’s hair to soothe him, if only a little. Dark brown, wavy fur soon covers Dan’s whole body and he has to let go of Kevin’s hand as his hands turn into paws. A tail sprouts slowly from the base of Dan’s spine before it’s covered in fluffy fur.

Kevin steps back as Dan finishes his transformation with a final whimpering howl and collapses onto his side. It took a lot less time than bitten werewolf transformations he’s overseen in the past but it leaves him wary. He stays crouched and still as Dan catches his breath. Then, Dan slowly gets to his feet and sniffs the air. Now that Dan’s standing, Kevin can see he’s not dissimilar from how he is as a human. Everything about his wolf form is long and lithe. Kevin reminds himself not to underestimate Dan because he’s small and skinny as a wolf. But he makes a mental note to still be careful with Dan because of his lung.

Once Dan’s breathing evens out, his eyes bore straight into Kevin. Kevin inhales sharply when Dan makes eye contact. Dan’s eyes are fully reflecting the moon: his pupils a bright yellow while his irises are their normal pale blue. Before Dan can move, Kevin lunges at him and grabs his scruff with one hand and wraps his other arm around Dan’s head. Dan snarls and tries to free himself from Kevin’s grasp, snapping his jaws at the air. His shoulder is immediately complaining from the position but Kevin drags Dan to the collar attached to the silver chains. He lets go of the hand holding Dan’s scruff and snatches the collar from the ground, quickly wrestling Dan to the ground. Kevin holds one knee against Dan’s head and the other against Dan’s shoulder as he clips the collar around the werewolf’s neck. Now that Dan is chained to the tree, Kevin gets off of him and hastily retreats. Dan snaps at his heels only to be pulled back by the chain. He snarls at Kevin, saliva dripping from his fangs. Kevin sighs, resting against the side of his car. At least his lung doesn’t seem bothered from Kevin pinning Dan down.

“I’ll put the harness on you later so you don’t end up choking because of the collar,” Kevin tells Dan. His words don’t have any effect, which is expected. “I really hope I don’t have to hurt you. I’d rather not need to shift in order to stop you from killing someone.” Dan bares his teeth at Kevin before biting his chains. “No Dan, stop!” Kevin cries, leaping up from his reclined position as the silver burns Dan’s mouth. Dan, seeing Kevin rushing at him, growls and goes to bite him. Kevin throws his arm between him and Dan as teeth sink into his flesh. Kevin clenches his jaw so as not to cry out and further aggravate Dan. He uses his free hand to wrench Dan’s fangs from his arm but to no avail. Dan doesn’t want to let go. Kevin stares into Dan’s empty eyes, trying to see some semblance of him in there but he’s not there. So Kevin patiently waits for Dan to tire, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and arm.

“Let go, Dan,” Kevin commands. Dan does not listen or acknowledge that Kevin is speaking. He keeps staring into Kevin’s eyes. So Kevin decides to switch tactics. He throws his head back and howls, low and melodic. Dan freezes, his hold on Kevin’s arm loosening slightly. It’s just enough for Kevin to pry his jaws open and swiftly pull the muzzle from his pocket and slip it over Dan’s face. By the time Dan can react, the muzzle is securely fastened. Dan spits and growls, thrashing his head around to try and shake the muzzle off. Kevin steps back and exhales, finally taking the time to inspect his injury. He rolls the sleeve of his hoodie up and winces. It’s going to be a messy heal but it will heal nonetheless. Kevin slides the sleeve back down, the throbbing pain in his shoulder making itself known. He watches as Dan tries desperately to get the muzzle off, now fully ignoring the chain. Dan switches from whipping his head back and forth to rubbing his face against the ground and pushing at the muzzle with his paws. Thankfully for Kevin, Dan’s snout is longer than most werewolves’ so the muzzle won’t be going anywhere.

Kevin groans and sinks down, resting his back against his car. He takes a deep breath before running his hand down his face, sparing a glance at Dan. The bitten werewolf has stopped moving and is now staring at Kevin unblinkingly, his head somewhat bowed. Kevin huffs a chuckle before howling again, albeit weaker than last time. Dan’s head perks up as he watches Kevin howl. Kevin tries again, listening for Dan to make any sound with him. What he doesn’t expect is Dan to attempt to howl too but it’s a horrible screaming sound instead. Kevin can’t help but laugh at Dan’s pitiful howl but maybe it’s because of the muzzle. Kevin watches Dan try to howl again but he still can’t seem to figure it out.

“You’ll get it one day,” Kevin promises. “When you have a pack of your own, you’ll be howling properly in no time.” Dan, surprisingly, tilts his head at that. Kevin chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll make your own pack after all. I’m just temporary pack since I’m the one that got you in this mess in the first place,” Kevin rambles, wincing as pain shoots up his arm again. Dan regards Kevin dubiously before pacing around as far as the chain will let him. “I know you’re restless but I can’t let you off the chain,” Kevin apologizes. Dan snorts at that and keeps pacing around. Kevin smiles and shakes his head at Dan before slowly getting up. He might as well bandage his arm since he doesn’t think he needs to shift tonight. It seems like Dan isn’t particularly bloodthirsty anymore.

Kevin removes his leather gloves and takes one of the small bottles of water he packed and cleans his arm with it. He takes the rest of the water and pours it into a bowl for Dan, placing it down where Dan can reach it. Kevin doesn’t turn his back on Dan, instead, he slowly backs up while watching the wolf. Dan approaches the bowl of water, giving it a precursory sniff before attempting to drink from it. Kevin smiles to himself before going back to bandaging his arm. With his bite wound sufficiently cleaned and dressed now, Kevin lowers his sleeve over the bandages and reclines against the side of his car with a sigh. His shoulder pain is ever present now but he doesn’t want to take any painkillers yet. Suddenly, Dan starts growling, pulling the chain taut with so much force that it shakes the tree it’s attached to. Kevin is immediately on guard but when he sees that Dan isn’t directing his aggression towards him, he follows Dan’s gaze. There’s a figure wearing dark camouflage clothing and night vision goggles. It isn’t until Kevin hears the click that he puts it together. Without missing a beat, Kevin barrels into Dan, knocking him over as he hears a bullet wiz over his back. Dan, already agitated, tries to sink his teeth into Kevin but the muzzle stops him. He snarls and scratches at Kevin to get him off and away from him instead. Dan shoves Kevin off of him with his hind paws, knocking the wind from his lungs. Dan is immediately pinning Kevin down by his shoulders, causing Kevin to cry out. There’s the sound of cocking a gun.

“Don’t shoot him! Please, don’t shoot!” Kevin shouts to the camouflaged figure. “He’s tied up and can’t bite anyone, please don’t shoot him!” The figure doesn’t respond, keeping their aim steady. Dan looms over Kevin with his teeth bared and ready to strike. The stranger must have taken a step forward to “help” Kevin because there’s a snap of a twig and Dan lunges for Kevin. Except the muzzle keeps his jaws shut and Dan ends up slamming his nose into Kevin’s eye. It would have been funny if not for the imminent danger. Kevin, taking this as a window of opportunity, grabs Dan by the scruff and rolls them both over so that Kevin is freed from being pinned. Using the spin’s momentum, Kevin shoves Dan away from him and hobbles over to the figure as he blinks the pain from his eye. Dan writhes and pulls against the chain violently to try and get to either of them. Kevin stays crouched and puts a hand to his shoulder. He should have taken the painkillers earlier.

“Are you one too?” the figure asks. Kevin’s head shoots up in alarm.

“No! Just my friend! I offered to help him with his transformation tonight!” Kevin lies. The stranger’s gaze drifts to Kevin’s arm where the sleeve is still bloody.

“Did he bite you?” the figure asks, taking a step towards Kevin. Dan shrieks, the chain holding him at bay rattling violently.

“No, he just scratched me,” Kevin lies again. They contemplate Kevin’s answers before turning their gun back on Dan.

“I’m doing you a favor, kid,” the stranger says before they pull the trigger. Time slows as Kevin propels himself forward, feeling his body shift in mid-air. Outstretched hands become claws. His teeth sharpen in his open jaws as his scream becomes a howl. While the night vision goggles and mask cover the stranger’s face, Kevin can smell the shock and fear burst from them as he sinks his fangs into their neck. Kevin gives the stranger a swift death. He hates how the blood floods his mouth. It tastes of the stranger’s life flashing before their eyes. He then turns his attention to Dan who appears unharmed. Dan doesn’t smell of gunpowder or blood. In fact, there is a neat bullet hole in the ground a little ways past where Dan is standing. Kevin limps over and digs up the bullet and the bullet from earlier, taking them in his teeth delicately before depositing them next to his car. Once the bullets are accounted for, Kevin makes his way over to Dan to double-check that he’s fine. Kevin sniffs Dan all over and deems him perfectly fine. Kevin then gives Dan a lick on the head before limping over to the corpse. Kevin paws at the jacket they’re wearing and reveals several silver knives, silver bullets, and a vial of dried wolfsbane. Werewolf hunter.  Kevin huffs and shakes his head. What a mess. He grabs the corpse by the collar and drags it away from Dan. If someone comes looking for whoever this was, Kevin doesn’t want them finding Dan.

Kevin walks back, in human form, to where he chained Dan to the tree and is pleasantly surprised to see that Dan is relatively calm. Of course, his eyes were staring straight in Kevin’s direction before he even saw him. “Did ye have a good time out here alone?” Kevin asks lightheartedly. Dan doesn’t respond at all but Kevin slowly notices all the scuffs on the ground. Dan must have tried to chase things but the chain kept him from pursuing.

“We should probably leave,” Kevin mutters. He picks up the silver bullets barehanded, hissing from the contact, and slides them into his pocket. He’ll stash them away later. Kevin checks his phone for the time and the screen informs him it’s an hour or two from dawn. Perfect. Kevin finally takes some painkillers for his shoulder. Thankfully his lycanthropy doesn’t let his injury get too bad but it can only do so much. He hasn’t seen many werewolves heal back 100% after being hit by a car, human form or not.

Kevin slips his leather gloves back on as he approaches Dan. “We’re going for a trip, Dan,” Kevin explains briefly as he unlocks the chain from the tree. He grips the end tightly, anticipating that Dan would try and chase after something as soon as he was free. Dan predictably starts pulling but he’s pulling in the direction Kevin dragged the body away. “No no no, we’re not going over there,” Kevin chides hurriedly as he starts leading Dan towards the car instead. It’s a struggle since Dan does not seem to want to get into the car so Kevin finally gives in and picks Dan up and manhandles him into the car and shuts the door.

“Oh feck, seatbelts,” Kevin sighs. He checks the trunk for if he brought the harness specifically for buckling into a seatbelt and after digging through the boxes, he remembers he has the harness in his hoodie pocket. He closes the trunk door and makes his way to the backseat. He opens it slowly and is ready for when Dan tries to bolt out but Kevin bodily blocks him and attempts to quickly get the harness onto the bitten werewolf. “Sorry Dan, this is mildly inconvenient,” Kevin apologizes as Dan snarls and tries to bite him as Kevin wrestles the harness onto Dan. Now that Dan is harnessed up and clipped to the seatbelt, Kevin doesn’t feel as nervous that Dan is immediately going to try and maul him while he’s driving. He double-checks that he’s not leaving any physical evidence of their stay or the scuffle they had before getting into the driver’s seat. Kevin backs out of the woods and makes a mental note not to come back here for a few months. He grips the wheel and takes a shuddering breath as the gravity of the situation sinks in. He killed a human with his own fangs. He can still taste their blood in his mouth. He hasn’t had to kill a werewolf hunter in a long time. Before he can distract himself too much, Kevin lets himself sob once before refocusing in the road. He feels tears streaming over his cheeks but he can’t bring himself to wipe them away. Shifting and snuffling in the backseat brings Kevin’s eyes to the rearview mirror. Dan is leaning as far forward as the seatbelt will allow him with his long nose twitching in Kevin’s direction. His glowing eyes are wide and curious.

“Aw, are ye worried about me Dan?” Kevin chuckles, though his voice is a bit strained. Dan tilts his head and whines softly. Kevin sniffles a bit before looking back at the road. “We’ll be at my place soon. I just have to drive around a bit more in case we’re being followed,” Kevin assures Dan. He hears Dan huff at him before settling back down. It takes a little longer than Kevin would have liked but he makes it back to his house without incident. He heaves himself out of the car and shuffles over to the back seat door to let Dan out. Dan growls at him while he unbuckles his seatbelt but he doesn’t rush out of the car like Kevin though he would. Rather, he patiently allows Kevin to lead him to the house. Kevin fumbles with his keys but he gets them inside. He locks the door and the deadbolt before stumbling to his bedroom. He unclips the silver chain from Dan’s collar and throws it into the corner of his room, discarding his leather gloves promptly afterward.

Now that they’re not in mortal danger, Kevin can truly take in Dan’s wolf form. Somehow, his fur on the top of his head resembles his bangs. Dan is fairly tall for a wolf too, his head reaching just below Kevin’s chest. But if Dan stood up on his hind legs, he would certainly be taller than Kevin. Dan stares back at Kevin during this scrutiny, his pupils still pale like the moon. Kevin ruffles Dan’s fur before flopping onto his bed. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels the bed dip and Dan’s long, muzzled nose is right in his face.

“Oh feck, you scared me Dan!” Kevin laughs as he pets Dan’s face. He grabs Dan’s long nose and gives it a gentle shake. Dan snarls lightly so Kevin lets his nose go and sighs. Dan, with the muzzle on, manages to bite a bit of Kevin’s sweater and shake it vigorously until it slips from his teeth. He then sniffs all over Kevin, his nose poking Kevin while he smells him. When Dan pokes Kevin’s injured arm, he curls his nose away from it and bares his teeth. “Ah, now there’s no need for that. You’re the one that did that to me,” Kevin chides. He sits up, making his back crack in the process, and pulls the sweater off over his head with a groan. His fecking shoulder. Kevin inspects his bandaged wound and unwraps it. It healed over pretty well, the punctures in his skin have already closed up leaving pink indentations. Dan sniffs it, his wet nose cool against Kevin’s skin. “See? Good as new!” Kevin assures. Dan eyes him dubiously but he settles down on Kevin’s bed, nosing the pillows innocently. “Alright, the sun’s gonna come up soon so let’s get some sleep before then,” Kevin says as he lays back down, feeling himself slip into unconsciousness.

Kevin’s not sure what time it is when he wakes up but the sound of bones cracking and whimpering tells him it’s dawn. He turns his head and sees Dan’s lupine face scrunched in agony as he paces around on the bed panting anxiously. Eventually, he can’t stand anymore and collapses onto the bed and into himself like a dying spider. Kevin reaches out and pets Dan’s head, knowing he can’t do much else to comfort the bitten werewolf as he shifts back. The fur slowly recedes until it’s just a fluffy mess on the top of Dan’s head. His front paws elongate and his claws recede to his human fingers. The long snout confined to the muzzle shrinks away until the muzzle is holding nothing but empty space. A formerly trembling tail disappears back into Dan’s spine. Kevin drapes the blanket they’re on top of over Dan as he finishes shifting back to a human, unsure if he’ll still have his clothes on. Dan’s hands find the blanket and he clenches them tightly as he catches his breath from the transformation. Kevin waits patiently for Dan to recover mentally. It doesn’t take long, maybe Dan heard Kevin moving around because he opens his eyes and they immediately go to the muzzle loosely wrapped around his head.

“What in the hell am I wearing?” Dan croaks. Kevin chuckles but he makes no move to pull it off Dan. Dan doesn’t seem to have the energy to remove it either.

“A muzzle. Doesn’t quite fit you this way,” Kevin replies. “Because of that, you didn't bite anyone.” Dan sits up and sighs with relief until he sees Kevin’s bare arms.

“Then what’s that?” he asks, pointing to the pink scarring on Kevin’s arm. Kevin lifts up the previously injured arm just enough to see how well it’s healed.

“Oh, yeah, I’m not anyone,” Kevin says nonchalantly. Dan scoffs and holds Kevin’s arm gingerly.

“I bit you,” Dan states, his voice shaking slightly.

“It’s okay, Dan. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Remember, I’m a werewolf too,” Kevin says softly. “I knew what I was getting into last night.” Dan runs his fingers over the indentations from the bite marks.

“Did it hurt when I bit you?” Dan asks.

“Nah, I’ve been bit worse before,” Kevin replies, half telling the truth. Dan buys the half lie and sets Kevin’s arm back down.

“What happened last night?” Dan whispers, eyes already glassy. He holds the blanket tighter around himself. Kevin tries to sit up but can barely get his shoulders off the bed before his aches and pains force him back down. He exhales in frustration before trying again. This time, Dan helps him upright, which he thanks him for.

“Well, you certainly wore me out. Getting that muzzle on you wasn’t easy,” Kevin says lightheartedly. “But chaining you to a tree was. By the way, you still have the collar and harness on too.” Dan raises his hands to his neck where he finds the collar, much too big on him. He unclips everything and holds them delicately in his hands. Dan looks up at Kevin to continue speaking, hands starting to tremble.

“But there’s more that happened. I remember hearing gunshots,” Dan whimpers. Kevin nods.

“A werewolf hunter tried to kill you last night,” Kevin states. “They failed, obviously.” Dan starts frantically checking himself and the bed for any bloody trails or grazes or anything and upon finding nothing, he looks at Kevin expectantly. Kevin takes a shuddering breath before saying, “I killed them, Dan. To protect you I went for their throat because I thought I’d fail you twice.” Kevin then covers his face with a hand to hide his tears. Dan doesn’t need to see him break down right now. Thin fingers wrap around his hand and slowly lower it from his face. Dan’s brows are furrowed but his eyes are clear and determined.

“I’m sorry you had to make that decision but I am grateful you did,” Dan says gently, still holding Kevin’s hand in his. “I don’t hold that against you. You haven’t failed me.” Dan doesn’t expect Kevin to lean forward heavily and practically slump against Dan’s body much less in wolf form. The shift is instantaneous and catches Dan off guard from Kevin’s weight. Kevin’s forehead rests underneath Dan’s chin while the rest of his body is nearly flush with Dan. Dan doesn’t quite understand this behavior but he runs his hands over Kevin’s back soothingly. He doesn't comment on how Kevin is shaking in his arms but he does rest his cheek on the top of Kevin’s head. Even though he’s meant to be comforting Kevin, Dan finds himself calming down while petting Kevin.

“Thank you for protecting me, Kevin,” Dan says into Kevin’s fur. Kevin grunts before pulling back and shifting back to his human form. He looks into Dan’s eyes with an expression Dan can’t quite place but Dan feels at ease.

“Of course, Dan,” Kevin replies.

[maria021015]

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR CHAPTER 37!

“Oh, thank God you’re alive!” Stiles sighed in relief when Scott finally answered one of the several phone calls he’d sent in the past twenty minutes. “What happened?”

“Boyd was in there with Derek’s little sister, Cora. Erica…Erica’s dead. You guys were right - it was a trap. When we dropped into the vault it was sealed with mountain ash-” Scott began but at that, Zaida had to interrupt him.

“Mountain Ash? But that means there must be a human working with the alphas. Supernaturals can’t set Mountain Ash.” She pointed out.

“They probably have an emissary,” Peter spoke up from the couch he was currently lying on.

“What’s an emissary?” Stiles’ brows furrowed in confusion.

“Druids - kind of like a witch. They give packs advice.” The alpha explained drolly.

“How did you get out?” Zaida asked Scott.

“Allison showed up and broke the mountain ash, and Boyd and Cora got free. We’re tracking them down now. We think they’re headed for the Preserve.” The werewolf answered.

“Allison? Why the hell was Allison there?” Zaida interjected once more.

“She tracked the bank logo from the symbol that girl bruised into her and Lydia’s arms and broke in. Derek totally bit her head off about breaking the barrier to save us, and he told her I was lying to her about what happened the night her mom died. I had to tell her the truth, and…oh God, she probably hates me.” The boy mumbled sadly over the speakerphone.

“Scott, she could never hate you. You know how Allison gets, she’ll be pissed off and in a mood for a bit but she’ll get over it…in ten to twelve business years.” Zaida snickered at her own joke, failing at her attempt to be supportive.

“Okay, we can talk about Scott’s tragic love life later. For now, let’s focus on the bloodthirsty killing machines, please.” Stiles scolded them with a roll of his eyes.

“Where abouts are you guys? I’ll meet you there.” Zaida offered immediately, wanting to get in on the action. She’d sat by idly enough tonight.

“Zaida…it’s dangerous enough for us, and we can heal faster than you. You’re not ready.” Scott told her hesitantly, knowing she wouldn’t react well.

“I won’t ever be ready if you never give me a chance to be!” She protested with a glower even though he couldn’t see her face.

“I’ll keep you guys updated, okay?” Scott promised and then hung up, not giving her room to beg him even more.

“He severely underestimates you, little nymph.” Peter tutted from his position on the couch.

“What do you know?” She scoffed at him rhetorically.

“I know quite a bit about your kind. My sister, Thalia, once knew a nymph - a nereid. A beautiful woman. She looked a bit like you, actually.” Peter hummed and assessed her with analytical eyes. “Her name escapes my memory, though.”

“I-” Zaida was speechless for the first time that night. A nereid that had looked like her? Could it really be a coincidence? And was he even telling the truth or was he trying to bait her? But how else would he know that her mother was a nereid?

“And I bet a tasty piece of information about Zaida could jostle that name from your conveniently forgotten memory, right?” Stiles scoffed and pulled Zaida away from him protectively. “No thank you. We don’t want to play your game.”

“I think the little nymph would like to play.” Peter continued, unswayed by Stiles. “Hmm? What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you,” Zaida spat at him after a brief hesitation. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“How about you just show me something then? Just one little trick and I can tell you what you want to know about her, and about how Thalia knew her. I think you’d find that particularly interesting.” The scintillating man dangled the forbidden fruit in front of her with a serpentine grin.

“It’s not happening,” Stiles answered for her, noticing that tempted glint in her hazel eyes. He gripped her hand and pulled her further from the couch and into the opposite end of the loft. “He’s just trying to get you to show him your element.”

“What if he actually knows something?” She whispered now that they were alone.

“Maybe he does, but is it worth giving him what he so desperately wants? He wouldn’t offer it if it didn’t benefit him.” Stiles questioned in a low tone.

“I know that.” She insisted and forced her mind back on track. “Whatever. If Scott won’t let me help, I’ll call Isaac. I have a feeling they’re going to need backup tonight.”

“Yeah, call Isaac, I’m sure he’ll be incredibly helpful.” Stiles huffed and muttered under his breath bitterly, feeling an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

“Oh, stop your grouching.” She waved him off and lifted her phone to her ear, waiting until the werewolf picked up her call.

“If this is a late-night booty call-” He started and Stiles’ eyes widened in fury at her.

“Stop with the jokes before Stiles’ eyes pop out of his head.” She rolled her eyes. “Scott won’t admit it but he needs our help with something, so I need you to get to Derek’s as fast as you can to pick me up, and then we’re heading to the Preserve.”

“What’s happening at the Preserve?” Isaac immediately sobbed up, getting serious.

“Scott and Derek broke Boyd and that other girl out of the bank and now they’re loose on the town and completely out of control.” She explained.

“Okay, I’m heading there now.” He replied and she frowned.

“Wait, you’ve gotta come pick me up first.” She insisted.

“Zaida, I’m not taking you just so you can get torn into pieces.” The boy scoffed humorlessly.

“Hey, I fought you off once, don’t you remember? And that was before I knew how to use my powers.” She defended her abilities for the third time that night.

“I was also freshly turned, trying to restrain myself, and you had help, remember?” He shot back and she pouted when she couldn’t deny he was right. “It’ll be more dangerous if I take you with me. I’ll be more worried about keeping you safe than keeping myself alive. Just stay with Stiles.”

“I think that’s the first smart thing he’s ever said,” Stiles admitted begrudgingly.

“Ugh, the next time I see you both I’m going to kill you for benching me.” She growled into the receiver only to see another incoming call. “I’ve gotta go, Lydia’s calling.”

“Zaida?” The redhead’s voice was weak and she sounded as though she was either crying or on the verge of a panic attack.

“Woah, Lyds, what happened? Where are you?” Zaida was immediately distracted from the previous conversation, dropping everything to focus on her friend. “Are you alright?”

“No. I- I’m at the pool. There…” Her words were shaky as she tried to explain in her shocked state. “There’s a body.”

“A body?!” Stiles repeated, his spine straightening and his mind instantly going to the werewolves currently on the loose.

“Okay, we’re on our way,” Zaida assured her and gripped Stiles' arm, dragging him towards the main entrance to the loft. “Try and stay quiet and out of sight. Wait in your car if you can, and lock the doors.”

When she hung up the phone, she and Stiles exchanged concerned looks. What was Lydia doing at the pool at this time of night?

As Stiles continued to inspect the body and look for clues, and Lydia tried to look anywhere but at the crime scene, Zaida stepped away to call Allison. It was a strange impulse and not one she’d expected to feel when she stopped to think about what Scott had said about what had happened with the girl earlier. Truthfully she wasn’t even sure if the brunette would respond to her call. It was the first time Zaida had contacted her in months. She was almost too surprised to speak when the huntress did pick up and answered with a hesitant but hopefully greeting. “...Zaida?”

“Hey, Allison.” Zaida cleared her throat. “...Scott told me what happened at the bank, and I, uh…just wanted to see if you were okay and if you got home safe?”

“Oh, that’s…really nice of you.” Allison sounded equally as surprised as Zaida had felt when she’d answered. “Uh, yeah, I’m doing as well as a person who just found out their dead mother tried to kill their ex-boyfriend, making the whole revenge spree they went on completely meaningless.”

“So…not great then?” Zaida jested awkwardly and Allison gave a small chuckle. Zaida frowned when she heard the heavy clanking of metal in the background of the call. “What are you doing now?”

“Oh, nothing much,” The girl lied incredibly badly. “Just watching a movie at home.”

“Uhuh, right. Now what are you actually doing?” Zaida raised a brow, knowing something else was up. Silence answered her. “You’re getting ready to go help the boys round up Boyd and Cora, aren’t you?”

“Look, I already know what you’re going to say and-” Allison began to defend herself, thinking Zaida was about to try to dissuade her.

“I won’t tell anyone if you take me with you.” She interjected, seizing the opportunity that had just presented itself to her. “Come pick me up from the pool.”

“What are you doing at the pool?” Allison questioned as she finished loading up the gear in the back of her car and shut the boot with a loud thud.

“Lydia found a dead body,” Zaida explained and the line went silent once more. “She’s okay, just shaken up and traumatised, but then again what’s new about that.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” Allison agreed to the ultimatum the shorter girl had set down. She made it there in nine and Zaida was waiting on the street, hopping into the car eagerly as soon as it slowed to a stop. “Where’s Lydia?”

“As if I was going to bring her with us to a werewolf hunt. Especially after what she just went through.” Zaida scoffed. “She’s waiting with Stiles until the police show up.”

“I take it the boys didn’t want you involved either?” Allison raised a brow as she pulled back out onto the road and headed straight for the Preserve.

“I begged Scott and Isaac to take me to help and neither of them went for it.” She sighed in frustration. “Stiles wasn’t too happy about me leaving just now either, but he knows better than to try to stop me.”

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way because we would never get anywhere without your brain and determination, but what exactly are you going to do against two rabid werewolves?” Allison questioned.

“Oh, yeah I forgot you don’t know,” Zaida smirked and held up her hand with her palm facing the roof of the car, conjuring a swirling mist that grew into a spiral of water.

Allison’s doe eyes widened impossibly large and the car swerved, causing Zaida to lose control and drop most of the water over her own lap. She drifted her hand over her wet clothes and the residue evaporated into steam and disappeared into the air. “What the hell was that?!” Allison exclaimed in disbelief when she regained control of the vehicle.

“Tada!” Zaida wriggled her fingers in a show of sarcastic jazz hands. “I’m a nymph. A naiad, to be exact.”

“What does that even mean?” The huntress gawked at her, her gaze repeatedly flickering from the road to the girl in the passenger seat. “And since when?”

“To give you the four-one-one, as they say, I come from a long line of nature spirits. My mom was one too, which was why she and my dad were murdered by someone from their old pack - a werewolf. I, as you just saw, can manipulate water because I am a water spirit. It comes with a whole heap of other neat tricks too. Peter bit me the same night he bit Lydia and it sort of kickstarted or boosted my powers. I found out a few months ago, went on a quest for information and I’ve been training since. I’m getting pretty good too.” She explained the shortened version of events.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” The huntress questioned. She knew things weren’t great between them at the moment, but they had been close once, after Zaida had been bitten.

“Don’t feel too bad. I didn’t tell anyone for a while. For a long time, it was just Stiles and I working on it, until Lydia found out about the supernatural and then it was just the three of us, until the end of summer when Stiles told Scott. Derek and Isaac saw me use my powers and found out themselves, and Peter already knew because he tasted it in my blood when he bit me. So yeah, you’re kind of the last person to know, but in case you didn’t notice, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms when I decided to come out about it.” Zaida drawled. “Plus, for a little bit, I thought you might kill me yourself if you found out.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Allison grimaced as she remembered pulling that crossbow trigger and sending a bolt flying straight into Zaida’s leg. The look of betrayal and pain on the girl’s face had been more than enough to haunt her afterwards. “I’m still really sorry about that.”

“Eh, I’m getting over it.” Zaida brushed it off with a casual wave of her hand. “Slowly. But if you do it again I’m coming for you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Allison’s lips quirked into the ghost of a smile at the joke and turned to park her car at one of the many entrances to the Preserve - the one in a direct line with the First Nation Bank. It was likely where Boyd and Cora had entered the Preserve. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d ever forgive me for what I did.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m still not entirely there yet, but I’m working on it.” Zaida admitted in a quiet voice and picked at her nails to avoid the thick blanket of tension that had settled over them. She hadn’t felt comfortable talking with Allison about anything too deep since it had all happened, but she found herself wanting to open up about it - wanting to work towards mending things. “To your credit, you did what I asked you to. You’ve pushed everything else away to work on being better, fighting those darker impulses. After taking some steps back and cooling down, I know it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were being groomed and manipulated, and I was angry and I said some things at the time that were…harsh.”

“You weren't wrong.” Allison pursed her lips. She hated the girl she had become under her family’s influence. “I deserved it.”

“You’re not like your aunt, Allison. Or your grandfather, for that matter.” Zaida assured her. “You were the first friend I made in this town. We’ve sure had our ups and downs, but…that does mean something to me. I miss that girl with the bright eyes and dimples, and the heart of gold.”

“So do I.” Allison swallowed dryly, her emotions rising and tears threatening to well in her eyes. “I haven’t felt like that girl in a long time. I thought that she was weak, and that I needed to become someone else to handle this world, but…I was wrong. She would never have done what I did to you, or what I did to Derek’s pack.”

“I’m not the same girl I was when I arrived in Beacon Hills either. What we went through was bound to change us.” Zaida spoke firmly but encouragingly. “You won’t ever be that girl again, just like I won’t. You’ve outgrown her, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing if you don’t let it.”

“You’re very wise, for a sixteen-year-old.” Allison wiggled her eyebrows playfully and in that moment there was a flash of the girl that had been her friend.

“Oh come on, don’t play the ‘year older card’.” Zaida laughed and rolled her eyes, unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing the car door open. Allison followed her lead and walked around to the boot of the car, opening it as Zaida peered inside to see stacks upon stacks of weapons and gear.

“You ready for this?” The huntress asked, looking at her with analytical eyes.

“Lead the way, Argent.” Zaida took a deep breath and nodded. “What’s the plan?”

The taller girl pulled her longbow and a sheath of arrows out, swinging both over her shoulder as she rummaged through the rest to pull out knives that she slid into various straps in her custom hunting clothing. She offered Zaida a pair of daggers, but the shorter brunette simply smiled and raised her palms to the sky, collecting multiple orbs of water that spread paper thin when she snapped her wrists inward. At Zaida’s will, they were sent flying straight into a neighbouring tree trunk, slicing straight through several inches of wood. “Thanks, but I’ve got my own.” She shrugged.

“That’s a neat trick,” Allison grinned, impressed. She continued to gear up. She shut her car boot and turned towards the treeline, starting their trek into the dark woods.

“How are we supposed to know where they are?” Zaida questioned.

“We won’t. That’s why we need to bring them to us.” The girl answered and pulled out a ring dagger, twirling it around her finger before cutting a slice into her wrist with barely a wince. She held it over the foliage below and allowed it to drip a trail as they walked deeper. “They’re still human, but their animal side is in control. We can use the scent of blood to lure them.”

“What’s their scent radius?” Zaida wondered aloud as her boots crunched over dry leaves, trying to make as much noise as possible to draw Boyd and Cora to them.

“About two miles,” Allison shrugged.

“And what’s the expanse of the Preserve?” Zaida asked with an arched brow, pointing out the vast amount of ground they would have to cover.

“That’s why we’re going to set up a trap area, and make all our blood tracks lead them right to it,” Allison explained.

Once they had hiked to a space they thought was suitable, the huntress taught Zaida how to set up multiple tripwires similar to the one they’d witnessed Scott get caught in all those months ago. “These are gonna suspend them in the air and hopefully keep them there long enough for us to incapacitate them.”

“How’s this?” Zaida asked as she set the last trap in place. Allison inspected it with a faint smile.

“Perfect. You’re a fast learner.” The girl nodded at her work in approval. “Or maybe I’m just a great teacher.”

“Don’t let your head get too big or it’ll make you an easy target.” Zaida dusted the dirt off her hands, feeling the chill of the night send goosebumps rippling up her bare arms and legs. She wasn’t expecting to be out in the elements when she had chosen this outfit. “Now what?”

“Now we trail blood, we wait, and we watch.” Allison handed her a pair of what looked like binoculars, but when Zaida peered through them at the girl, she could see they were clearly IR glasses, meant to track thermal signatures. “During a full moon, their body heat will be a lot hotter. It makes them easier to spot in the dark.”

When Allison brought her knife out once more to make another incision, Zaida offered her own wrist, but the girl shook her head. “You’ll heal too fast.” She reasoned and sliced into her own arm again, holding it out to bleed over the forest floor as they kept walking, Zaida using the glasses to scan the treeline. The air was filled with the sounds of nature - crickets chirping and birds cawing - along with the snapping of sticks beneath their heavy boots.

“What’s that noise?” Allison cocked her head as she listened for a gentle buzzing noise.

“Sorry, it’s my phone.” Zaida grimaced in apology and pulled the device from her pocket to see multiple messages from Stiles.

Sheriff Junior: Just asked Lydia what she was doing at the pool. She says she didn’t even realise she was driving there until she got out of the car. Just like when she resurrected Peter.

Sheriff Junior: Hey, are you still alive? Because if you’re not, I’m gonna kill you.

She quickly responded to his messages, assuring him that she was indeed alive and unharmed, and that whatever was happening with Lydia couldn’t be good news. She didn’t register the faint smile on her lips when she was replying to his concerns about her, but Allison did.

“So, you and Stiles are pretty close, huh? I mean you two always had some sort of… unspoken connection, but it’s more than that now, isn’t it?” The huntress prodded the subject carefully.

“Yeah, we’re pretty great friends, if that’s what you mean,” Zaida answered cautiously.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Allison smirked, taking Zaida’s avoidance of the subject as potential confirmation of her suspicions. Whilst they may be working on mending their friendship, Zaida wasn’t yet okay with talking about this with her. Hell, she hadn’t even spoken to Lydia about it yet - though that was largely because she didn’t want the redhead to feel awkward about the situation. Or for her to feel like Zaida resented her for it, because she didn’t.

“Are we lost?” Zaida questioned by way of changing the subject when she spotted a tripwire.

“No, I know where I’m going,” Allison assured her confidently.

“You’re sure we haven’t been going around in a circle? Because if not, and that tripwire over there isn’t ours, then there are other hunters out here.” The shorter girl identified tersely.

“I don’t think we’ve turned around…” The huntress didn’t sound as sure this time when she recognised the equipment as the exact same that they used. They ventured further only for a soft, glowing light emitting from through the brush to catch her eye. “Okay, that’s definitely not ours.”

“What is that?” Zaida questioned, moving closer through the foliage to a large metal stick embedded in the dirt. The top was pulsing with white light.

“They’re emitters - they send out signals that only werewolves can hear. We use them to corral them, like sheep dogs rounding up a herd.” Allison realised with a jolt. “This is our equipment. That means my dad’s out here.”

“I thought Papa Argent retired?” Zaida raised a brow.

“So did I,” Allison muttered under her breath, crouching down with her fingers brushing over the indent of dirt in the shape of a footprint. “He must be helping Scott.”

“How do you figure that?” The shorter girl leaned down to see what Allison was looking at.

“My dad wears heavy hunting boots. The prints would be deeper and wider. These are from sneakers,” Allison rationalised her deduction.

“But these are bigger than Scott’s feet…” Zaida could tell because she knew exactly whose shoes were this size. “They’re Isaac’s.”

“At least now I feel less guilty about going behind my dad’s back, because he’s clearly doing it too. So much for trust.” Allison sighed and got to her feet.

“Well, now we know where they’re leading them.” Zaida pointed out the benefits of their discovery. “We just have to follow these.”

“Good call,” Allison hiked her bow and sheath up higher over her shoulder from where they’d slipped.

They didn’t have to follow the transmitters for long before it became clear to both girls exactly where the boys were leading them. “They’re taking them to the school? Why?” Zaida’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re trying to trap them until the full moon is over…they’d need a heavy enough door to keep them from breaking out, and the school has a boiler room with a pretty heavy-duty door.” Allison connected the dots.

“What are we waiting for, then? We know where they’re going. We can take a shortcut.” Zaida flashed the huntress a smile.

“Well, they’re definitely here somewhere.” Zaida huffed, slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with Allison as they jogged their way out of the woods and through the bus bay of Beacon Hills High, hearing loud and feral growls.

“Not just somewhere,” Allison whispered, peering around the corner of a large yellow bus. Zaida followed her and peeked around to see both Boyd and the figure of a female werewolf climb over the outside of the school building and land on the ground, headed back towards the Preserve instead of inside where the boys needed them to be.

“I think they need some help,” Zaida noted, and nodded towards the bow on Allison’s back and a specific type of arrow she recognised from a time Allison had used it in front of her and Lydia months before.

“I’m on it.” Allison agreed determinedly and began scaling the side of the bus, using the smallest of handholds to pull herself up to the top.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go around the bus.” Zaida watched her with eyes wide in wonder, knowing there was no way she could replicate that. All else aside, Allison was a badass.

Zaida readied her powers, summoning larger flat disks of water with dulled edges. They’d hurt if they were to hit someone, but they wouldn’t be fatal. They hovered and rotated in the air as she made her way around the bus to see flashes of blinding light as Allison loosened her flare arrows into the surrounding stone structures and concrete floor, forcing the two wild betas towards the open double doors leading inside the school. Zaida sent those disks hurtling through the air towards their heels with a flick of her wrists, urging the wolves forward as the heavy masses of frozen water shattered into pieces at their feet with loud smashes. Both of the betas sprinted inside to escape the onslaught and a tall figure emerged from the shadows to shut the doors behind them, turning towards the bus to spot both of the girls. With his face turned to the moonlight, illuminating his expression of amazement, it became clear it was Isaac. Only he wasn’t staring at Zaida. The shorter girl realised with a sudden onset of surprise that his eyes were locked on Allison.

“I thought I told you to stay at the loft, where it’s safe !” The boy finally tore his gaze away from the taller girl above the bus when she dropped to the ground and retreated, disappearing into thin air.

“And I thought I told you that I could help, and here we are, with me helping.” She crossed her arms over her chest with a raised brow. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not thanking you.” He stated stubbornly but not ungratefully. “Now take Allison and get out of here. We’ve got the rest of it.”

“Only because we helped!” Zaida called out in a sing-song voice as she walked backwards the way they had come, leaving him to hurry inside the building.

“Ready to go?” Allison was waiting for her behind the bus, assessing her with those sharp brown eyes and Zaida fell into step beside her. They headed in the direction of Circle Street, which ran from the school and around through town just a few blocks away from the Preserve boundary line. Allison’s car was parked just a few side-streets off that main road at one of the Preserve entrances.

“What?” Zaida questioned her with a heavy sigh, continuing when the girl sent her a confused expression. “You’ve got this look like you’re trying to figure something out, so just ask me.”

“It’s just, I thought…” Allison began, and then paused, trying to figure out a way to re-word her thoughts in a way that didn’t blatantly reveal the fact that she was so sure there was something going on between Zaida and Stiles. “You and Isaac aren’t still together, are you?”

“God no,” Zaida let out a puff of laughter. “We ended things ages ago, way before summer break. And it’s not picking up again, before you start wondering if that’s the case. What’s with the interest?”

“I’m not…” Allison shook her head in denial, but Zaida knew that look on her face. It was the way she’d always looked when lying about Scott, back when they’d been dating.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?” Zaida’s lips spread into a slow smile.

“What? No-” Allison shook her head, her cheeks flushing a light pink hue.

“For what it’s worth, I think he thinks you're cute too.” Zaida laughed lightly. Her mind - and heart - immediately went out to Scott. The poor boy was still hung up on the huntress, even though it had been months since they’d broken up.

“It’s not gonna happen.” Allison insisted. Sure, Isaac was attractive, but she’d loved Scott, and a part of her would always love him.

“Is it because of Scott?” Zaida questioned, somehow knowing where the girl’s line of thought had headed.

“So you won’t answer my questions about your love life, but you’re okay to ask me about mine?” Allison scoffed, clearly deflecting.

“That’s because I don’t have a love life. There’s nothing for me to tell.” Zaida gave the girl a half-lie. “Plus, you shot me with a crossbow, so I think I get a free pass.”

“How long are you going to use that as a get-out-of-jail-free card?” Allison chuckled, happy that they could now talk about it so casually without it getting awkward.

“I didn’t think it had to have an expiry date,” Zaida hummed and her phone vibrated in her skirt pocket. She drew it out and checked her notification to see yet another message from Stiles.

Sheriff Junior: Meet me at the morgue when you’re done.

“You wanna come over for a movie or something?” Allison asked her hopefully, having enjoyed the time they’d spent together this afternoon. Towards the end, it had almost felt like normal, back when they were close.

“Actually, could you drop me off at the morgue?” Zaida slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“No rest for the wicked?” Allison shot her a knowing smile.

“Never,” Zaida sighed heavily.

[canary0]

May 5 - Dracula 2023

The morning’s mist has faded, and despite the sun being high in the sky, I can’t tell whether the jagged spires on the horizon are built of mountain peaks or trees. It’s so distant that it just melds into a distant faded blue. I won’t be called upon until I wake, so I will write until I’m finally sleepy. It’s been a very strange day, and it wasn’t like the other day where I can point to paprika as the culprit of any strange imaginings. The evening before I left, I had frigărui, Romanian-style kebabs with beef, bacon, onion, and capsicum, so it wasn’t anything too rich or spicy.

When I went to meet the bus, the driver was outside, speaking to some of the hotel staff. They kept glancing toward me, so I can only assume that they were talking about me. The others waiting for it got into the talk, as well. It was mostly the older members of the group – the few young people didn’t seem to have much interest in the conversation. If I’m not mistaken, I spotted a few eye rolls.

I didn’t catch everything that was said, but a quick translate search turned up some less than comforting responses. Among other words were “ordog” and “pokol” – “devil” and “hell” in Hungarian, and “vlkoslak” – “werewolf” in Serbian, Slovak, and Slovenian. Their manner was one of utmost seriousness, which is troubling to say the least. The young people didn’t seem to believe it from their mannerisms, but it did make me wonder if something is happening out here to make the elders think in terms of werewolves so apparently sincerely. I will have to ask the Count about the situation.

As I got onto the bus the group, that had swelled more than expected, crossed themselves and pointed two fingers for me. I asked what they were doing, and after a bit of prodding and finding out I was English and totally unfamiliar with the gesture, and it was explained that it was a guard against the evil eye. I think they were trying to guard me from it, since their expressions ranged from fear to genuine sympathy and sorrow. Given I was going to be going to an unknown place to meet an unknown man, it drained my confidence about the trip even further. I couldn’t help but be touched by their concern, though. I will never forget the last sight I had of them, sitting in the bus and looking out at the group, set against a backdrop of the oleander and orange trees near the hotel’s entrance.

The dark implications were quickly wiped from my mind as we took off, though. I still noticed a few glances my way, and if I had known the languages those around me spoke quietly in, I likely wouldn’t have been able to shake off the mood so easily if I could have understood what I was hearing. We were heading into the foothills, and it was emerald green and covered in forests and fields. Some of the hills were topped with little farmhouses or clusters of trees, and there were so many fruit blossoms I couldn’t identify all of them as we passed. The grass under the trees looked like it was covered in little snow drifts of petals that ranged from pure white to nearly electric pink.

The road was winding and seemed to disappear around every hill and dip in and out of the pine forests that ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. After the wildfires that seem to have become more and more common as the years have gone on, I can only hope they won’t eventually become literal tongues of flame.

Photo by Andrei Calin from Pixabay (https://pixabay.com/photos/mountain-sunset-tihuta-nature-2791233/)

The road was rough, but that didn’t seem to slow down the driver, who took us along the winding curves with all haste to get to Prundu Bârgăului. There were even a few curves that made me nervous with the height of the bus and the forces as we went around, as well as the road that hadn’t been fixed up since this year’s snow. I’ve been told this road is normally excellent. There was a time in history, I read, where they wouldn’t keep the roads through the Carpathians in order, as a peacekeeping method. Fixing up the road might make the very nearby at the time Ottoman Empire think that they were preparing an offensive. I suppose, with the tradition in place, that really would have been the reason.

Just outside of the little towns and isolated farms, as you look up, forests begin to fill the land as they climb up toward the peaks of the mountains. The afternoon sun lit them up in all their colors – green and brown on the hillsides, blue and purple where the crags hid the mountain faces from the sun. the snowy peaks rose further above that in the distance, almost looking like especially stark clouds from the way the mountains faded into a paler blue in the distance. Every once in a while the sun lit on the reflection of running water where a stream of melted snow cut through the rock with the arrival of spring.

Photo by Vitaliy UA from Unsplash (https://unsplash.com/photos/zhtvE8s2Hxo)

One of the other passengers got my attention and pointed to an unusual flat formation that rose high among the mountains. “Look! Isten széke!” He said. Connection was well lost by then, so I’m not sure what it meant, but he crossed himself when he said it, so there must be some connection to religion.

Photo by Kántor Lajos in Wikimedia Commons (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Isten_sz%C3%A9ke.jpg)

We had headed out quite late, and as the hour wore on, it seemed like twilight came early. The sun dipped below the peaks, its rays lighting up the snow that still capped the mountains in a delicate pink, link the fruit blossoms before. In the low light, I could see sights that were new to me – hay bales lifted into trees, and copses of weeping birch, their silvery bark seeming to shin in the low light between the leaves that hung about them, bright green in their newness. There were a few small religious shrines on the side of the road, which seemed almost always occupied with a person. The people at each one didn’t even look up when vehicles passed, seeming lost in their devotion. I mentioned to another passenger how I wish I had the opportunity between my work to take a walk through the hills, and the man turned to me and gave the least smile-like smile I had seen on a person, an upturn of the lips that didn’t meet the eyes paired with a voice that bore grim finality. “No… you must not walk here. The dogs are too fierce… and you may have enough of such matters before you sleep.

He glanced at those nearby and received similarly humorless chuckles in turn.

As the sun dipped further, the driver accelerated, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the speed we were going was legal on roads like these. The bus lurched stressfully around curves, and the older riders seemed to lack any concern for it, glancing out the window and urging the driver faster, it seemed like, if anything. I gripped the seat ahead of me, my teeth clenched as I gave a silent prayer that the bus didn’t overbalance entirely around the next tight curve. As we went, despite the lack of stability, some of the passengers offered me a variety of strange gifts… or rather, they gave them to me, since the offer seemed to include no room for argument. Always with a ward against the evil eye, like at the hotel before.

The clouds had gathered thick and fast as we traveled, which may be why it seemed that night came so quickly – it was like midnight not long after dusk, and only the headlights of the bus lit the darkness. Many of the riders seemed to peer out intently into the darkness as if expecting something, but I couldn’t see much of anything in the deep shadow.

Finally, the headlights lit upon a pale track and the bus rolled to a stop, but the driver didn’t turn off the engine. The driver muttered something in Romanian and checked his phone and the clock on the front console of the bus. He turned toward me, as I was sitting at the very front, just to his side. “It seems that your vehicle isn’t here. It is fine, I will be happy to take you on to Bucovina-”

His statement was interrupted by the appearance of a calèche – an actual honest-to-goodness horse-drawn carriage like you might see carrying tourists around London, but with four horses instead of one, a lantern hanging from a hook on it. The passengers gasped, some crossed themselves, and some seemed as confused as I was. The bus driver sucked in a breath through his teeth that I could hear from my seat and tensed as though bracing himself for the unmoving bus to ram into the thing. The horses, where they waited in the headlights, were deep black and elegant creatures, and would have blended into the darkness if not for the bus. The carriage was driven by a man with a long brown beard and a wide-brimmed black hat that concealed his face. I only got a brief glance at his eyes, bright and the sort of unusual shade of brown that looks red in the right light.

He rapped on the door of the bus and the driver opened it, moving down the short stairs with trepidation. I could hear their conversation, as close as I was to the door, and see them as they stood in the night.

The tall man who drove the coach spoke first. “You’re early tonight, my friend.”

“Th-the Englishman was i-in a hurry,” the driver replied, body even more stiff than when he braced on the bus, now looking like a rabbit ready to bolt at the sound of a wolf.

“That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bucovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift.” He grinned, or bared teeth, at least. And what teeth. Deeply white enough to gleam even in the darkness, the light reflection almost making them look sharp, set in a mouth with deep red lips.

Across from me, I heard an older man murmur a line from Burger’s “Lenore”:

“-denn die Todten reiten schnell.” “For the dead travel fast.”

The carriage driver seemed to overhear him, because he looked up, straight at the passenger, and smiled. The man shrank back in his seat and went silent. He turned back to his conversation with the bus driver, instructing him to give him my luggage.

As the bus driver opened the underbelly of the bus and took out my bags, I disembarked from the vehicle and stepped up the to carriage, which had gotten surprisingly close to the bus. It was a little awkward, since I had only ever seen one of these, and never ridden in one. The driver reached down with a grip like a tempered steel band.

The bus shifted into gear nearby once I was settled and returned to its route through the night. I could briefly see the faces of some of the passengers backlit in the windows as they rode away before the interior lights turned off. A few of them did the sign warding against the evil eye one last time before it disappeared into the night. When it did, a lonely feeling came over me, intensified by the fact that I couldn’t help but be struck by the enormous kindness of the people here.

A chill came over me with their disappearance, but the driver draped a cloak over my shoulder on top of my coat and a warm blanket over my lap. “The night is chill, sir, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz underneath the seat, if you should require it.” Slivovitz is a plum brandy of the country, and while I had hoped to try it at some point during my trip, it seemed wise to keep as much heat internal rather than external as I could. Besides, with the tension and such a strange situation, a clear head seemed the wiser course. Fear held onto me, and I wondered what would have happened if I really had simply continued on the bus to Bucovina… But who knows what would have happened then.

The driver went hard on the horses and we rode relatively rapidly along the dirt track that headed out into the hills. It went a long way in one way, then we turned along another long track and continued. There’s an old joke that two wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts do. I made note of a landmark, a vividly red peony, standing out to me and reminding me of the coachman’s eyes as it caught the light. In a while, we did indeed come by it again, confirming my suspicions. We were going in circles.

We must have been doing it for hours, as it was close to midnight when I finally risked running down the battery to check my phone for the time. I tucked it away and looked around, waiting in the rattling, bouncing conveyance with trepidation. Perhaps the days events were clinging to my mind.

Soon, a dog in the distance sent up a howl. Then another joined it. One by one, more howls joined until the land itself seemed to be raising a wail to the heavens. The horses began to strain and rear in a panic but the driver seemed to be able to quiet them down. I couldn’t help but notice their trembling, though. Then another howl picked up, sharper and different somehow. Is this what wolves sounded like? I had never heard a wolf howl before, and it seemed a wholly different thing from a mere dog’s howl. It awakened a primordial fear ion me, and I felt as ready as the horses to bolt. They seemed to panic, and the driver did everything he could to keep them from bolting. Keeping them under control was a feat of effort that needed the kind of strength I’d felt in his hand.

He managed it, and then got down to pet and soothe them once they were relatively still. Once they were still, we took off again once more, this time taking a much smaller track sharply to the right off the dirt road – or series of roads – we had traversed until now. We had to be heading up into the mountains, because those forests I had seen in the distance were now hemming in all around us, creating a tunnel of wood and occasionally great rocks on either side of the coach. The wind grew as it does up a mountain, and a fine snow soon began to fall, making me pull the cloak tighter around me. Whether it was from fear or cold more I’m not sure, because the sound of the wolves now grew louder while the howling of the dogs faded away behind us.

Suddenly, I saw a blue flame off to the left, and the driver suddenly stopped us and hopped out onto the road, disappearing into the darkness almost immediately. I heard the wolves coming closer and wondered for a moment what he was thinking just leaving the horses and myself behind, but he soon reappeared and we were off again. I wonder if I fell asleep at that point, because it seemed like it happened many more times, over and over, as if in a loop.

One time he stopped at one close enough that I could see what was going on somewhat by the lamplight. He built a small caern at the location where the flame appeared and… I think they must be some sort of optical illusion, because at one time he was standing before the flame and I could see it through him. I suspect the night had gone on too long and frayed my nerves too thin at that point.

Of course, that is not to say they could not be shaken further. At one point, he went much farther away, and the horses became much more alarmed than before. They reared and screamed, and I didn’t know why until the moon emerged from behind a tall, jagged rock, illuminating the surroundings. The wolves, which had gone silent when I was paying more attention to the coachman’s strange activities, now surrounded us. They were graceful, moving silently in the night, all the more frightening for their silence.

As the moon lit on their fur, it almost seemed to have an effect on them – they let out a long howl. It was a beautiful, mournful sound that froze my heart to ice in terror. We were surrounded – the horses clearly wanted to bolt but could not. Their rearing and rattling of the calèche broke me out of my frozen state, at least, and I shouted into the woods for the coachman, and beat on the side of the vehicle to perhaps scare the wolves into backing away a little to give them a way in.

It seemed my efforts were unneeded, however. He appeared down the road and spoke to the wolves in an imperious tone, making a sweeping gesture before him. The wolves seemed to be cowed and backed away farther and farther. The wind obscured the moon behind heavy cloud cover again, and I was left in blackness again. The driver soon climbed into the calèche again and the horses were driven forward again without incident, the wolves apparently gone.

We went up and up, only dipping briefly in deference to the natural shape of mountains, interminably to the point where I lost track of time. It seemed to me like it should have been dawn long before, but stress and the strange choice of conveyance had clearly made the trip seem much longer than it was. I was starting to understand why it was a calèche. I doubt many motorized vehicles could have gone the way we were.

Eventually, I came out of the fog of endless rattling, rising terrain, and into the realization that the coachman was pulling us into the courtyard of an ancient, ruined castle. We were above the clouds now, it seemed, but even with the shine of the moon, the castle was dark. No light shined from its windows, and its crumbling towers stretched into the sky, as spire to match the grand and terrifying peaks that surrounded it.

I suspect what I thought was mere mental fog must have been sleep from physical and mental exhaustion, because otherwise I certainly would have seen a place like this approach. Or perhaps I did, and I simply mistook it from one of the grand formations of rock around us, a monument to the forces of the earth. Even the courtyard seemed large, with many exits that went under round archways. It was difficult to tell the size in the darkness.

The coachman helped me down – and once again, I noticed the unyielding strength of his hand that could have crushed mine whenever he wishes – and took my bags down. Once again, he alighted on the calèche and drove it away, leaving me before the door to the castle.

The door itself was massive and of ancient wood, with iron nails driven into it. A massive stone frame ensconced it that looked like it had once been elaborately carved, but time and the cutting wind of the mountains had worn it down. The whole thing was built on a scale that suggested something much larger than a mere human, an entrance for some titan.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do – there was no bell or knocker, my voice wouldn’t likely penetrate the thick stone walls, and I doubted I could move the heavy wood and iron door myself. I was left only with the cold, the silence except for the wind, and my own thoughts.

What had I gotten myself into, and with whom? Was this some right of passage for a solicitor’s clerk – strange ordeals to see strange clients for what should be a mundane legal matter?

Clerk… No, I was a full solicitor now. Mina wouldn’t want me to sell myself short. And Mina… what I wouldn’t have given at that moment to be able to call and hear her voice. But this adventure had left me truly alone up here – more alone than I realized I had ever been. I’ve been surrounded by connections my entire life, held them in my hand. And now… nothing. Just me, the mountains, and a dark castle, as though the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.

I thought for a moment I was having a terrible nightmare, but a pinch didn’t lead me to wake up at home. All I could do was wait.

Just as the thought came upon me, I picked up the sound of movement. Heavy footsteps – and light! That had come to feel like a precious resources tonight. The clanking of heavy chains and the scrape of stubborn iron bolts sounded behind the heavy door. Something creaked and then there was a sharp clack as an old lock finally gave. The ancient timber groaned as it moved in what sounded like the first time in ages.

Revealed as the door swung back was a tall man, old, his long, white mustache his only facial hair. He was dressed from head to toe in black. There was not a single spot of color on his entire outfit. He was wholly monochrome, the ancient silver lantern in his hand the only hint at anything about him not wholly black or white. When he spoke it was in English, in an odd tone.

“Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!” He stood entirely still after he spoke, as if he had turned to stone. It was eerie, much like the odd specificity of his statement. It wasn’t easing my mind further, to be sure.

Once I stepped over the threshold, he became more animate, reaching out to take my hand once I had put down my bags. The stone analogy only seemed more apropos when he did – his hand was enormously strong and very cold. He seemed like a man made of marble. When I type that out here, I can’t shake off the memory of a story in a horror anthology about a lily being turned to marble.

“Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring!” he said again, and his handshake brought to mind the coachman and the strength in his hands. I had to confirm, and asked, “Count Dracula?”

He nodded. “I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest,” he said as he put his lamp in a bracket on the wall and picked up my luggage. I didn’t have time to stop him, but he clearly noticed what I meant by stepping forward and holding my hand out. His words brushed off my aborted effort, though. “Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself.”

I wanted to protest further, but it seemed rude past that insistence. I followed along behind him through a passage, then up a winding staircase upward, and down a long passage again. Our footsteps echoed on the stone all around wherever we went with nothing to soften the sound of our passing. He pushed open a heavy door, and behind it was what felt like the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

A warm, well-lit room, with dinner set out and cheerily burning logs within the fireplace. After everything else that has gone on tonight, I could have cried to see it.

He inclined his head courteously to me. “You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by changing. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.”

I was so relieved by everything here that my fears were dispelled for the moment, and I changed quickly and went to the room he’d indicated. When I arrived, dinner was already laid out, and the Count stood to one side of the fireplace. He gestured to the tabled. “Please, have a seat and dine as you please. I have already eaten, so you will forgive me if I do not join you.”

I didn’t sit down just yet – instead, I brought out the letter Mr. Hawkins had entrusted me to deliver. The count read it solemnly, then smiled and handed it back for me to read as well. Looking it over curiously, I was pleased to see one passage in particular.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any traveling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.”

Once that was read, the Count took off the lid of my supper, with turned out to be of exquisite quality. A whole roast chicken, cheese, a salad, and a bottle of sweet Tokaji wine. I had two glasses, which went very well with the rest of the food and admittedly did some to calm my feelings further after this evening’s harrowing journey. He asked me many questions about my journey, and I shared all I could with him; though after the veiled threat of his coachman to the bus driver, I may have left out some of the actions of the people I’d encountered that might cause them trouble.

Now that I had a chance to look at him, he was very unique in his features. A strong jaw and a thing, aquiline nose, with thicker hair than I might expect from someone of his apparent age. His ears and teeth almost looked pointed, and he had quite thin lips, though very red, which reminded me again of the coachman. His cheeks were very thing, and between that and his very cold hands, I had to wonder if he had been ill in some way.

His nails were cut to a point, and when he reached over and touch my hand, the mood of the evening before made me shiver, thinking of the damage sharp nails and strong hands could do. He apparently noticed and drew back with a grim sort of smile, settling into silence for a while.

Eventually, the sound of wolves echoed up through the window from the valley below, and I glanced at the window, the image of them surrounding the coach rising vividly to mind. He seemed to notice the change in the direction of my gaze. His eyes lit up, and he said, “Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!”

I swallowed, not sure what to say. It was beautiful, genuinely, but haunting… and I had certainly had enough of that feeling for the night. He picked up on my mood – if nothing else, he is certainly observant. “Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter.” He rose. “But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and to-morrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon; so sleep well and dream well!”

With that, he left for an octagonal room, and I went into my bedroom and set up something I got before I went, when Mr. Hawkins warned me that there likely wouldn’t been much in the way of electricity up here – a small solar generator, and some panels I can set up on the window sill, or hang from the window, perhaps. It will let me continue to charge my laptop, at least, so I can keep writing this and do the electronic portion of my work for the Count.

This day has been all too strange, and going over it again in my mind, I can’t help the fear from before that rises back again on the reminder of it all. I wonder, and my thoughts are strange – things I dare not admit to my own soul.

I hope I can keep it together, if only for the sake of those dear to me.

(A/N: Oh my god, that was a lot… especially for how little really changed between this and the book. Dracula is a bit stuck in the past… and with the location of the castle, it would be a gigantic pain to get gas up there, so he still uses the caleche. I rather enjoy how bizarre it is to a modern mind.

I think it’s appropriate for Jon’s connection to the outside world and ability to sort out his thoughts (and keep his sanity) is now powered by the sun.

I did my best to put all this in my own words. The only thing super unchanged are Dracula's lines and some descriptions that were too vital to the ambiance not to use. Because Dracula's an unaging undead creature and you gotta have vibes.)

[bytheangell]

An Easy Deal

(Read on AO3)

Lydia wonders if she's cursed after the luck she's had this week.

Every mission goes awry. It feels like every order she gives is questioned, with sass by those under her command and derision by those above her. She has a headache that her iratze barely dulls for 24 straight hours, though that one may be her own doing - she's barely had time to eat a full meal in days.

And all she can think is the irrational belief that one hug from Maia would cure all of her problems, or at the very least make them bearable.

The only problem is that their relationship is a secret. She can't exactly waltz into werewolf territory without raising suspicions, not when they both agreed that it would be better if no one knew they were together.

Normally this isn’t a problem. One of them would text or call the other, and they’d arrange to meet somewhere neutral and out of sight. Lydia’s been texting Maia for three days now with no reply. It’s making Lydia anxious, and really not helping her overall mood on top of everything else, until she finally caves and brings it up during a debrief with Alec and Isabelle.

“Any word from the werewolves? I feel like things have been quiet from them lately,” she says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Nothing that pertains to us,” Alec says.

“Maia’s recovering from that incident with the rogue fledgling, but I imagine we’ll hear from them regularly again once she’s back. You know the others aren’t as open with regular updates as she is,” Izzy adds.

Lydia feels her heart stutter. “Maia’s hurt?” The question leaves her lips before

“She’ll be fine,” Alec shrugs the question off, already moving on to the next matter of business.

Lydia’s head is lost in a swirl of worry, though. For Maia to be hurt badly enough that she hasn’t reached out at all for days…

The moment she’s free, Lydia finds herself walking out of the Institute and heading… where, exactly? What’s her plan? The truth is that she doesn’t have one. She just needs to see Maia with her own eyes, to know that she’s alright. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have a single objective beyond getting there.

Lydia decides to start with Maia’s apartment. It’s close to the Hunter’s Moon, but she doesn’t think anyone spots her going into the building. She thinks she’s in the clear until she knocks on Maia’s door and Bat answers, immediately tensing at the sight of her.

Fuck.

“Can I help you?” Bat asks, placing himself in the opening of the door blocking the view inside.

“I’m here to see… Miss Roberts,” Lydia says.

“Why?”

Lydia hesitates, but thankfully doesn’t have to answer.

“Lydia?” Maia’s voice sounds from inside. “Let her in.”

Bat steps aside reluctantly, allowing Lydia to step inside to see Maia slowly and carefully propping herself up on the sofa.

“Maia,” Lydia breathes. “I just found out about the attack or I would’ve come sooner.” “I broke my phone, or I would’ve called,” Maia says.

Lydia’s eyes dart over to Bat, who stands to the side with his arms crossed, eyeing the two of them carefully.

Maia reads her hesitation, watches the way Lydia comes so close but stops short of reaching out, though the way Lydia’s hands fidget in front of her speak volumes.

Maia glances from Lydia to Bat, then back to Lydia before standing up and closing the space between them, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s waist as she half-collapses into a hug.

Lydia wraps her arms around Maia’s shoulders, following her lead for a hug that she starts to pull away from after a few seconds only to have Maia pull her back in for a little while longer. It’s not nearly long enough for Lydia’s own liking, but considering the fact that they aren’t alone, she knows it’s far too long.

Bat clears his throat.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Bat points out.

“It’s okay, we can trust Bat,” Maia whispers in Maia’s ear. “In fact,” she says, pulling back. “You have no idea how much it killed me to not send someone sooner. What do you think about being a little less secret?”

Lydia’s heartbeat quickens. “Are you certain?”

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“No! I do. I absolutely do. I’m here, aren’t I?” And if you weren’t here I would’ve gone to the bar, or the Jade Wolf… whatever it took to see you.”

Maia beams.

“Do you, uh, want me to go?” Bat asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Yeah. Sorry. Do me a favor and don’t mention this to the other yet, but…” “I got you,” Bat says with a wink. “For what it’s worth, Shadowhunter will be a definite step-up from vampire for the others, so you have that going for you.”

Maia laughs, and Lydia joins her. She knows this isn’t going to be easy, but it’s nice to start with one friendly face on their side.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Lydia says, shaking her head with a smile on her face. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Bat says before disappearing out the front door.

“So. How do you want to do this?” Lydia asks Maia, who shrugs.

“We could just make out in front of everyone every time we see each other until they catch on?” Maia suggests, leaning in to steal a kiss now that they’re alone.

Lydia laughs into the kiss. “Maia, please.”

“Start with the people we trust, and work it out from there. Just promise me we won’t hesitate to show up when we need to, no matter who knows. Deal?”

Lydia, who wanted nothing more than to do just that for days, could not agree faster.

“Deal.”