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rxgueone · 2 years ago

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TANG

Word count: 3,618

Pairing: Elvis!Austin x oc

Summary: A story based in the late 60s, Austin who works for a famous man, sees a girl in need of help, to which he comes to her aid.

Warnings: fluff, angst (?), age gap, smut is mentioned, cigarettes, smoking, hippies, and cursing.

Tags: none.

Note: This story is shit, but I had to get sumn out this week. If Tumblr deletes paragraphs. I’m gonna lose it.

MASTERLIST

—

Opening the door to the house, the tall figure had his hand in his pocket. With his black hair greased back into a pomade, clean shaven face, he seemed ready for another day. As he entered the house, he was greeted with his boss. “There you are, Austin!” Hearing a boastful voice. He meekly looked to where the voice was coming from. “You know them hippies was here last night, smokin’ pot down the damn street or sum’n like that.”

His boss, Colt. He was a nice guy. Tall, with tanned skin but blonde hair that was slicked back. Colt Turner was a famous guy. Real famous, and well, Austin worked for him. Always.

Colt had found Austin one day down the street, and thought that he was suited for some work. Austin at the time who was homeless, had figured it was a good idea. So he took the deal. What was the deal? If Austin could drive Colt around, take him to where he needed to be, make coffees for him and etc. then Austin would be payed.

Austin was allowed to drive Colt’s car anytime he wanted to. Colt didn’t mind, in fact, he actually encouraged his friend to do it. Austin was the only person allowed to touch Colt’s beautiful and well maintained car. Anyone else who touched it without Colt’s or Austin’s permission, Austin was pretty much obligated to punch them.

Colt met Austin when he was in his late teenage years, and now Austin was reaching his late twenties, while Colt was reaching his forties. In spite of having to work for Colt for such a long time. Austin trusted Colt with his life, and it was the same for Colt. They both would probably risk their lives for each other.

“Should’a been here, I would’a gotten you to take care of em.” Colt said, when he took out a cigarette case from his pocket. Popped it into his mouth like usual and struck it lit with a lighter. Austin smirked, shaking his head, as he walked towards his friend. He approached the kitchen to where Colt was standing, seeing him holding a glass root beer bottle. He grabbed a bottle opener, snapping the cap off with ease then handing it to Austin.

“What’d you do?” Austin dipped his head in thanks when he took the bottle. “How’d you scare em off?”

“I didn’t. I’m too scared.” Colt smirked, shaking his head. Taking a drag from his cigarette, “You’re tougher than me Aus.”

“I’m a stick.”

“You ain’t a stick. You work out, I see you work out, you fix my roof n’ everything. You ain’t weak.” Colt was baffled by how Austin was underestimating himself. To which Austin shrugged, taking a swig at the root beer before walking back to the door of the house, Colt following right behind him.

Austin grabbed the keys to Colt’s car, which was a 1969 Dodge Charger. He walked over to the drivers side of the car, unlocking the door then pressed the button that allowed the passenger side to open. Colt swung the door open and they both sat down in their places. With the car roaring to life, he took the shifter in his hand and put it into reverse, Austin looked over his shoulder. Stomping on the gas, the car shot backwards, break, spun forward, shift into drive.

Colt’s back slammed against the car seat, he gagged from his cigarette almost going down his throat. “Holy shit Austin-“ he coughed out, looking at his buddy, “-you could at least fuckin warn me dude!”

“My bad.” Austin chuckled slyly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. With his other hand on his side, eyes narrowed to focus on the road in front of him. Colt chuckled, leaning back as he shook his head. Both windows rolled down so when Colt could smoke, it wouldn’t fill the car up.

“Oh yeah Aus,” Colt looked over at his friend, and in response Austin glanced at him, “I bought a supercharger kit for the lady, I was wonderin’ if you could drop by home n’ make sure it’s arrived safely. Also a new camshaft.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, not minding a thing.

Austin pulled up to the building to where Colt worked. Popping the door open, Colt took one smooth motion to walk out. Leaning down to look at Austin through the open window, he held onto the door. “Oi take good care of her.”

“I treat lady better than I do my own.” Austin assured, and Colt smiled, patting the top of the door before pulling away to walk into the building. Austin raised a brow as he watched Colt. “Aye Colt!”

“Yeh?” Swiftly turning around to face him.

“Do you need more for the rest of the day?”

“No, do whatever you want. Good luck to ya.” Colt smiled, winking at Austin before he turned his back on him. Walking towards the door of the building and opened it to disappear inside.

Austin sniffled, rubbing his nose for a moment to process what he was going to do. “Well shoot alright.” He giggled like a school boy, starting the car back up. Slowly prowling back into traffic. He leaned over to the dash, deciding to blast the radio.

—

Austin had stopped by at a stop light, he looked through the windshield and could see a girl who was standing on the sidewalk with her thumb up. She was alone, and looked in need for a ride. He stared at her quietly, intrigued.

She was pretty, he couldn’t lie. But, she looked young, real young. He was curious, why was a young girl like her out on her own. Shouldn’t she have been in school? Where it looked like she belonged. Unless Austin was just assuming wrong, it didn’t answer the question why she was out in the street.

Well, this was the 60s, the late 60s, and many young people were homeless cause they chose to be. Hippies… hippies and sex. In spite of her being a hippie, and the stigma behind them. Austin couldn’t help but worry over her. He saw her at that spot every damn day, and he wondered if any men would take advantage her.

Austin could see the girl look over at him, instantly, a beaming smile flashed on her face. She waved at him, and he tilted his head towards her, waving. She pointed to herself, then down the street, the opposite direction where Austin was headed.

‘Wanna give me a ride?’

Austin shook his head, then pointed forward. ‘I can’t, heading that way.’ After that, he shrugged in sorry.

She pouted at him, expressing her sadness. Then mouthed the words, ‘how about next time?’

Austin glanced at the light, seeing how it was still red. Looking back at her, he gave a nod. Mouthing back to her, ‘when I got time for you.’ It was a firm nod, he knew he had to keep his word to her. She smiled, jumping up in joy. She had successfully read his lips, and just as the light shot green. The Charger prowled forward. He waved bye to her as he drove past, and she returned the wave.

Austin had rolled up to Colt’s driveway. Right as he rolled up, he spotted two boxes stacked that was just sitting in the middle of the driveway beside his own stink bug of a car. Austin raised a brow up, as he parked the Charger beside his own car. Popping the door open, shutting it, then locking it. He walked towards the box quietly with his hands in his back pockets. He could feel a few strands of his own hair loosen up in front of his face.

“Well shoot.” He looked down at the two boxes stacked on top of each other, seeing the name COLT TURNER. Leaning down, his arms wrapped around the box. It was a supercharger, and it was going to be the heaviest pile of dung heap in the world. So with as much strength as he could form, he swiftly picked it up. Stumbling a bit as he walked towards the door of Colt’s house. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, trembling from how heavy it was. He was practically holding a whole engine.

—

When Austin went to go pick up Colt from work. He could see the girl in the same spot, this time with what looked to be her friend. Who also looked way too young for her own good. Austin watched them both as they held out their thumbs, sitting on the bus bench.

The girl had turned around, seeing the similar black 1969 Dodge Charger, and when she peered inside. She could see the same man who looked like Elvis’ doppelgänger. As she looked at him, he looked back at her with a blank expression, a smirk slowly peering on his lips. “That’s the guy I was talking about Lila!” She exclaimed, nudging at her friend who looked off her rocker. The girl pointed to the doppelgänger, waving at him.

He smiled, waved back at her. She pointed to herself, with raised brows. He shook his head, pointing down the street. She flailed her arms, annoyed he had no time for her. He was a handsome man, and she wanted to see if she could get her way with him. He looked kindhearted too, looked like he was a good listener. Which was why she wanted to befriend him so badly. Maybe yap away if she could.

But to her dismay, he had shaken his head no. Then mouthed the words. ‘When I got time for you.’ Like always, every day. But she couldn’t lie, for a man as handsome as him, she’d wait willingly. He dipped his head, waving goodbye to her as he drove off, she jumped up and down, waving bye at him.

When Austin had went to go pick up Colt. He could see him holding a can of beer, and Austin knew he’d probably have to deal with an emotional Colt, cause when Colt drank, he was emotional. Meaning something at work as well went wrong. “Hey there Aus,” he greeted as he opened the door, sitting down in the passenger side.

“Hey Colt.” He smiled, seeing Colt take a drink from his beer can. “Bad day at work?” Looking over his shoulder to drive back in the street, when he didn’t hear an answer, his head turn to glance at Colt. “What? Samantha reject you again or somethin’?”

“Samantha is as crude as a woman gets Aus!” Colt complained. “Damn well threw her coffee at me and I needed a new suit and everythin’ man!”

“Why she throw her coffee at you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know Aus sum’n ‘bout the damn editors, and that ain’t even in my department either! Sure I produce but fuck me, I don’t focus on the editors! She does! God dammit Aus, she’s a strange woman. I don’t even know why they hired her.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. Austin glanced at Colt, he wore a brown leather jacket, black shirt with some white slacks. “Fuckin’ hate producing movies with her!”

“Yeah I bet Colt… I bet… wanna watch The Good, The Bad, The Ugly back at home? Bet that’ll cheer you up.” He suggested, a cunning smile on his face.

“Good idea… I should’a thought of that.” Colt inhaled, nodding his head repeatedly. “I knew I could trust you!” Punching at Austin’s shoulder, he was laughing, happy that his best friend could always cheer him up.

—

The next day it was the same routine. Austin had dropped Colt off. And he told him. “Do whatever you want for the rest of the day. I don’t need ya. I’ll take Lady down by the shop to get that supercharger installed. So just explore ‘round, pick me up at nine.”

“Sure thing.” And Austin watched Colt walk off into the building. He said nothing but start the car back up, knowing damn well that if he ran into that hippie again, he’d have to give her a ride. Considering he would repeatedly promise to give her a ride.

And he did. He ran into her again, and she was sitting on that same bench. She waved at him once she spotted him, he waved at her. She pointed to herself, raised brows. He gave a nod, confirming he could give her some of his time. He could hear her squeal dancing around, wiggling her hips like there was no tomorrow. Kickin the sand around as she danced, the light green, he pulled over in front her.

She saw him stop the car in front of her. “Hey there.” She heard the casual greeting, as she had leaned down to look at him. She couldn’t help but smile at him, now up close he seemed more handsome.

“Hi,” she bit her lower lip nervously, twitching endlessly, “I see you finally made time for me!”

“Yeah, my boss says I can screw ‘round today before takin’ Lady down to the shop tomorrow.” He informed.

“Well… can I come in?”

He gave a nod. She swung the door open, plopping down in the passenger seat. She leaned up close to him instantly, he sat in the drivers seat, relaxed as her face was inches away from his. “Where you headed off to?” He asked her.

“Creek side.” She gave the simple answer.

“Oh.”

“It’s just down—“

“I know where it is.” He cut her off. She looked at him, surprised. But that smile remained on her face, and he smirked at her. “I’ll take you there no problem.” Merging back into traffic, sighing. “So,” he started as he glanced at her, “whad’ya do? Just hitch round all up in here all day? And you ask someone to take you to Creek side when you’re done?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Well yeah, aw c’mon, tourists love me!” She laughed innocently at him. “They talk about me y’know? Tell people about that one pretty girl who made their ride the best experience they ever got! And an even better experience at Creek side.” She proclaimed confidently. Austin said nothing after that statement, simply shrugged and nodded along. Whatever you say. He thought to himself.

After a few miles of pure comfortable silence Austin had merged into the freeway. The girl had been staring the doppelgänger down intently, hadn’t yet learned his name yet. She could see how he had a clean shaven face, greased back black hair, one hand on the steering wheel of the car. He was bobbing his head to the radio, enjoying the sweet tunes that were playing. He wore a simple white shirt, jeans, with a belt and some cowboy boots.

Wanting to make conversation with him. “You remind me of Elvis.” She suddenly said.

Austin glanced at her. “The pomade?” He chuckled, quirking up a brow.

She gave a nod before leaning closer to him. “Only problem is,” she began, “is that your pomade unlike Elvis is messy.” Grabbing the loose hairs that was in his face, she slicked it back, then grabbed his face to force him to look at her.

His face was turned towards hers, but his eyes remained on the road. A small smile on her face as she let go so he could be fully focused on the road. She kept watching him drive. “Want me to suck your cock?”

He looked at her, raised brows at the sudden question. Licking his lips for a moment due to his amusement and not knowing how to react, he brought his hand to his mouth. His fingers rubbing his jawline, trying to hide his smile. She was bold, very bold. When he gave her another glance, her eager face distorted into a worried face, as if she was afraid that he’d reject her. “How old are you?”

“What?” She seemed offended by the question. “There’s no way you just asked me that.”

“How old are you?” Followed with a low chuckle. She could tell that he was serious. He shook his head, which caused her to believe he had already known.

“Wow man,” she thought about it for a moment. He was the first one to have ever asked her that in a long time. After maybe a hundred tourists it felt like, she was finally asked that. Shaking her head, “been a long time since someone asked me that.” She still didn’t answer his question.

He didn’t say anything but shake his head, amused by how she was avoiding his question. Glancing at her, he could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. As she watched him in those three seconds of silence, she had already went to the assumption that he was a good man. “Well,” deciding to press on, “I’m eighteen. There. Now can we get the show started?”

He revealed amused smile. Looking back at her with a face that showed he didn’t believe her for shit. “You got a drivers license? I need’a see sum’n that says you’re eighteen. Sure I’m givin’ you a ride but not that type of ride.”

She rolled her eyes, sitting back in the chair. “You’re obviously the fun one at parties huh?” She mocked, and he nodded his head. She kept looking at him, and now knowing that he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. She comfortably shifted in her spot, laying her head down on his lap.

He moved his hand out the way to let her, glancing down at her as she stared up at him in awe. “Why don’t you just do me? I mean, I’m sure Elvis would.”

“Because ma’am,” rolling his eyes, “if I’m ever gonna go to jail it ain’t because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants for some chic who keeps lying to me ‘bout her age so she gets in bed with me.” He said with a scoff. “And I ain’t Elvis.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I ain’t him, but I also ain’t like those stupid sons of bitches who take advantage of folk like you.”

“Folk like me? What? Hippies?” She wanted to clarify how he saw her, how he viewed people like her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you guys just got different beliefs. I ain’t gonna take that to my advantage. Most of you are young’uns.”

“You talk like you’re old.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“No you’re not.” She called his bluff. “You look like you’re some nineteen year old.” He scoffed but took it as a compliment. Reaching into his pocket to get out his wallet. He handed it to her, so she could take out his ID to look at it. She said nothing but take it, grabbing out his ID. She looked at the photo. He had a sultry look. With his lips slightly parted, dazed siren eyes. She kept looking at it, reading the information. “Name… Austin Butler, height is six-one, age is twenty-eight, sex is male… eye color gray…” she looked at his face to confirm that he had gray eyes. Which he did. Not only was he Elvis’ doppelgänger, but he even had the rarest eye color. Then looked back at the card, “…and Elvis’ doppelgänger.” She added. “Y’know, Austin Butler is a pretty badass name.”

“Badass?”

“Rolls right off the tongue.” She giggled childishly, kicking up her legs out of the car. “Austin Butler.” She repeated, still staring at his ID photo.

—

Pulling into the dirt lot of Creek side. He sat in the car for a moment, looking at the ranch site. He could see a few little sheds of the ranch that seemed occupied. Creek side was huge, it was like a little town actually in the eyes of Austin.

He looked at his surroundings, there were horses, cowboys, dogs walking around with old abandoned rusty cars, and of course, hippies as well. As he looked around with his eyes, he could see at least four of them were pregnant. Well, sex does make babies.

“Austin!”

His head shot towards the girl. “Hm?”

“C’mon.” She walked out the car. “I wanna introduce you to my friends!” She said eagerly. He sighed, hopping out the car and locking it like usual. He made his way towards the girl, and she reached out her hand. He took it, their fingers intertwining. She quickly walked forward, but he leaned back, slowing down her pace. Which had caused her to practically drag him behind her.

She was looking at her surroundings. So was he. And she saw at least only maybe 10-16 people there, when usually there was way more. “I wonder where everybody is.” She looked around, standing beside Austin, her hand still clutching his. “I mean, everyone is asking about this doppelgänger I keep talking about y’know.” As she kept walking around, she made her way towards another part of the ranch, a small little shop. Where a girl was walking towards her. And this girl looked to be a high schooler as well. “Hello!!” She called to them.

“Hey Connie!” The girl had ran towards them.

Connie let go of his hand, seeing that the girl wanted to embrace him, “Hey Angel.” They both exchanged a hug with a quick kiss. Austin slipped his hands into his pockets, watching them both quietly. “This is my friend Austin,” she looked up at Austin then at Angel. “The doppelgänger I keep tellin you guys about.”

“He does look like Elvis.” Angel looked at him up and down. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes.” Austin chuckled, his eyes looking at Connie then away from her.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler angst #austin butler x oc #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #tw #elvis!austin

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enbysaurus-rex · 2 years ago

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a complete incomplete list of shit in rough order of goodness

Long-ish Fics

BATFAM

The Chronic Illness Fic that's getting way too long- Tim Drake is a kid who doesn’t Know What’s Normal, and so his health declining is just what happens, right? No one else complains about it, so he shouldn’t either! -50k

MDZS

My Boy Builds Coffins -- LWJ is a coffin builder in Yiling while WWX is trying to cleanse the burial mounds. Dirt is both a love language and a major theme, somehow? 50k [finished audio version]

Ghost Library -- LWJ is a government exorcist and his next assignment is a library. MXY is the librarian. Set after the thirteen years and with attempts at musical cultivation. 45k (WIP-ish) [finished audio version]

The Crayon Talisman Fic -- Modern Cultivation AU Burial Mounds era! WWX is a rogue cultivator Just Trying To Make Ends Meet while toting baby a-Yuan around. Shenanigans commence! WIP 60k[audio currently caught up]

The Martial Arts Fic -- WWX is a sensei and he and LWJ used to be tournament buddies back in ye Olde Days. Shenanigans commence! 420k and i still add a chapter from time to time as a bonus [audio in process]

The Narcolepsy Fic-- Canon-divergence where WWX was treating his narcolepsy with his golden core and Then He Didn’t Have the Golden Core. Shenanigans commence! WIP 80k [audio in process]

Short-ish Fics

BATFAM

Tim watched the graysons fall. Then he learns how to fly from the last grayson. nothing could go wrong - 2k

Tim is a shifter and he refuses to tell anyone in his family what his shifter form is. They find out anyway. - 4k

5 times tim passed out and the one time his brothers noticed. - 8.6k

MDZS

burial mounds modern fairytale? - 5k of historical/ahistorical nuclear winter VIBES

Wangxian breakup -- there is a plot that could be there, afterwards, but unless people want that in their lives i probs won’t write it - 4.6k

WWX is compelled to answer Inquiry -- itty bitty tiny fic 1k

JC/JZX -- i needed more variety in my life, and this might get longer if i ever get a plot bunny -6.4k

Jingyi’s perception of HGJ’s mourning - as a kid and then later as a teenager -2.7k

i lost my shit over a david bowie song -- the wangxian production complete with shittily transcribed sheet music - 4.1k

AUDIO VERSIONS:

-all have soundcloud playlists (one for each fic). this is the easiest way to play ALL of something without reaching for your phone every chapter

-and here you can download them from archive.org, because sometimes you just need an mp3. i know this and i love you!

#i realized it had been like TWELVE YEARS since i'd updated this #feel free to send me prompts or questions or whatever on here

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sope-and-shine · 4 years ago

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My Favorite Kitty

-> SFW // Shifter!AU // fluff, angst (if you squint) // Shifter!Taehyung -> Pairing: Yoongi x Taehyung -> Word Count: 3.6k -> Summary: What else is Yoongi supposed to do when his best friend gets him a cat but accept it and take care of the fluffy creature. But Jin may not have told him everything about his new pet. -> Warning(s): mild language, nightmares, avoiding sleep, Kim Seokjin (cause I think he should always have his own warning)

a/n: Sooo... I’ve been working on this for almost a year... cause I’m a dummy who can’t write consistently... BUT it’s finally done and just in time for @cest-la-tae‘s birthday. Daija boop I know you been waiting for this since I hard you read is months ago, so I hope you like it!

Yoongi honestly doesn’t remember how he and Jin became friends. Sure he’d tell people Jin had annoyed and followed him so much that he didn’t have a choice. But neither boy could ever think of a time they didn’t know each other. Maybe they met in school before Yoongi’s parents had died in that freak accident. Yoongi remembers being so scared and alone, everything he knew was suddenly going away. And then he found himself living with his best friend and that’s how it’s been since. He’d never be able to forget how much he owed Jin’s family and the man himself.

Growing up with Jin had been an adventure. The two were polar opposites. Jin was a people person, beautiful, popular, the ideal student. Yoongi wanted nothing more than to be left alone, keep his head down and simply do what was needed to achieve his dreams.

But regardless of what he wanted, people knew him. They’d have to be living in the stone age not to know the illustrious Kim Seokjin’s broody best friend. They were nice to him because otherwise Jin would have their heads, and no one wanted to be on the King’s bad side.

Yoongi had never been a fan of two-faced bitches, so anyone who tried to make nice with him simply to get to Jin, well they were in for a rough time. Some could describe Yoongi as nasty and vicious. Once a girl even tried to tell Jin to cut Yoongi out of Jin’s life. That had not ended well.

Even now that the boys had long since become adults with their own lives, they constantly inserted themselves into each other's lives. Jin made no secret that he loves Yoongi like a brother. And, while Yoongi would never admit it outloud, he loves that brat to death. They graduated college together and Jin went off to make a name for himself as an up and coming actor. Yoongi got to live out his childhood dream, creating and producing music. He preferred staying behind the scenes, being a faceless artist but his music was out there now. They even ended up at the same entertainment company.

Jin flourished, making friends wherever he went, just like always. Yoongi kept to himself, just like always, only having two close friends besides Jin. He’d help them with their own music and they weren’t as loud and boisterous as Jin, so he didn’t mind when they stuck around. Well, actually Hoseok was quite loud but his cheerful personality and kind heart made it hard to turn him away. Yoongi’s world was small and quiet and he was perfectly fine.

Mr Kim Seokjin, however, thought that wasn’t enough. He thought his pretty Yoongi should be out there living it up. He made a decent amount of money and was more than smart enough to do great at work while cutting loose. But that wasn’t what Yoongi wanted, and Jin respected that.

He still thought the man should at least have a roommate or a pet or something! Or he should have at least accepted that date Jin had tried to set up for him and Hoseok. Well before Jin had realized he had a crush on Hoseok and went on the date himself. But still, Jin constantly pestered his small friend about expanding his circle just a little bit. He wanted to disrupt Yoongi’s peaceful little world and he wasn’t going to stop until he won.

Yoongi was perfectly fine living alone. He was happy with his handful of friends and his quiet empty apartment. He didn’t want to go out cause that meant dealing with people and people were annoying. He was fine just going to work and staying home. He was a grown ass man and what he did with his life was his own choice.

Besides, Yoongi would rather keep his problems to himself. He felt bad enough that his horrible sleeping schedule was messing with his work schedule and caused Jin to worry, even if he really didn’t need to. He’d feel worse disrupting any little animal inhabiting his small studio apartment, let alone another human. He got sleep, albeit at strange hours, and handled his workload perfectly fine. The man just had a little insomnia and some nightmares from time to time, but that didn’t make him someone who needed to be babied. Jin didn’t need to constantly worry and look after him, it was getting old.

What does it matter if his annoying friend thinks Yoongi needs a pet? He doesn’t. He is perfectly fine on his own. Who cares what Seokjin thinks? Yet he still decides to waltz into the apartment at the ass crack of dawn carrying a fucking cat.

Ok, so maybe the cat was really cute. He’s pretty blue eyes staring up at him made Yoongi’s resolve weaken. But he refused to let Jin be right. Even if this cat had the softest fluffiest cream colored fur in existence. Nope Yoongi wanted nothing to do with this adorable baby.

Jin dumps the poor cat onto Yoongi’s lap before moving about the apartment setting things up for the fluffy creature. “What’s his name?”

“I’m not keeping him, Jin.” Yoongi grumbles, finding himself regretting giving Jin a key for the millionth time.

“Why not?” Jin doesn’t even falter in his mission, knowing this time he’ll win. “What’s the harm?”

Yoongi cautiously peers down at the cat before shooing him off the bed. Deciding that a large cup of black coffee was the only thing that could help him deal with his dearest friend at the moment, the dark haired man brushed past the tiny creature to trudge to his little kitchen. “I don’t know the first thing about caring for a cat, for starters. I don’t even have the things he would need. And I’m busy with work.”

“I bought you stuff. It’s in the living room. And I know your work schedule, you can’t pull that I’m too busy crap.” Yoongi grabbed a mug only to find Jin sliding him a large cup of coffee from his favorite cafe. He ignores Yoongi’s hard glare in favor of picking up the fluffy feline. “Just give him attention, feed him, and change the litter. Easy. He basically takes care of himself.”

It was a long, hard fought battle, but in the end he kept the cat. Actually, no it wasn’t. All it took was the little fluffy ball curling into Yoongi’s belly and his soft purrs for the small man to know Tata was never leaving his side.

Even though he’d never tell Jin, maybe Yoongi really had needed Tata. He was the sweetest baby, alway staying nearby or tucked into his side. He was the perfect companion for his lazy ass. And a great cuddle buddy when he went to sleep at night.

Tata was such an amazing addition to his world. So Yoongi really hated it when he’d wake up, tears on his cheeks after a nightmare, only to find his little friend staring up from his place on the man’s chest. He’d say it was fine, more to himself than the cat, but the stubborn boy never listened. Yoongi found it odd. He’d alway heard cats were less caring and standoffish, he’d even been compared to a cat by several people for his blunt and, at times, harsh actions. But this little guy was anything but. He’d watch Yoongi closely until he slipped back into slumber, curled up on his chest the whole time.

Yoongi never remembered the nightmares but they kept coming, and they only got worse. He slowly slept less and less. It had been weeks and the most sleep he’d gotten was 45 minute naps here and there.

By the time a month had passed, he knew something had to change. But the man couldn’t bring himself to do anything. So Yoongi continued on as if he’d die if he slept too long. And every time he stayed up through the night, the faithful kitten was right there with him. Always looking at his human with a sad glint in his eyes, like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.

By now his coworkers and few friends had noticed the change. Yoongi was a phenomenal producer and, even with his lack of sleep, still was, but his work wasn’t at its best. That and he had to fight to stay awake as time went on. Hoseok had accidentally woken him up after barging into the smaller’s studio to tell him about the progress he had made on his mixtape. Meanwhile, Namjoon had to continually keep him from dozing off while the two worked together on songs for their own releases. Needless to say they were concerned and if Namjoon and Hoseok knew, it was only a matter of time before Jin found out as well.

Which he had, and quickly hunted Yoongi down to yell at him. He made it very clear if the man came into work the next day, he’d get the CEO of the company to ban him for 2 weeks. And Yoongi knew Jin could pull that off, at this point his chaotic best friend owned the company in all but name. Plus Bang PD always wanted to take care of his people, so the CEO would probably ban him without Jin even asking.

So he stayed home. It was easier to stay awake doing chores around his apartment than sitting in his small studio anyway. And he could dote on his pretty kitty this way.

Yoongi spent his new found free day organizing the kitchen. How on earth some of these things ended up where they did he had no idea. He must’ve thrown his favorite coffee mix on the top shelf while unpacking in a hurry, because otherwise he’d never put it there. Besides the fact he couldn’t reach up there without climbing on the counter, the mix always went right next to the coffee maker to fuel the man’s dependence of the dark bean juice.

The day dragged on and still Yoongi refused to rest. At one point he thought the sleep deprivation was getting to him when he heard the toilet flush even though he was nowhere near the bathroom. When he walked in and found Tata sitting on the closed lid staring up at him, Yoongi decided it was the perfect time to make a big pot of coffee and move on to scrubbing the bathroom. Tata stayed for a moment before bolting off to the kitchen, probably on a quest for his food.

Before long Yoongi’s phone was constantly going off, vibrating harshly against the ceramic tub. Not wanting to add a headache to his ever growing list of problems, he quickly snatched the annoying contraption to see a multitude of texts from Jin, Hobi, and Namjoon, all with varying degrees of threats. Really it was only Jin making threats, Namjoon and Hobi were simply telling him to rest up and take care of himself. Yoongi rolled his eyes, looking at the time before locking his phone.

10:33 PM, the perfect time for him to start drinking his fresh coffee and start a Marvel marathon. Grabbing his biggest mug, Yoongi fills it up to the brim, lazily running his hand through Tata’s fur. Setting up his laptop with his first movie of the night. As the intro plays, he takes a huge sip of his warm coffee and cuddles up with Tata.

As the night passed by, Yoongi found himself just getting more and more sleepy, no matter how much coffee he drank. He was tired but he wouldn’t- no, couldn’t sleep. So the small man curled up on his bed, at the point of exhaustion where he just wanted to cry. But crying meant sleep, and sleep meant dreams. So he only curled around his pillow tighter and watched the seconds slip away.

He’s so tired that he doesn’t question the deep voice humming to him and the warm arms that wrap around his smaller frame. It soothes him in the worst way, making him lethargic instead of more aware. It feels as though a memory is seeping through in his haze and attempts to lull him. Yoongi tries to fight sleep but the second his back hits the warmth behind him he’s gone.

The next thing he knew, Yoongi was snuggling deeper into the bed trying to hide from the sun’s blinding rays. When he finally managed to force his eyes open all the exhaustion from the previous night was gone.

He barely remembered falling asleep, just the comforting warmth. The man had felt so safe and, honestly, he’d never slept better. No dreams, just sweet beautiful darkness. He’d slept so well Yoongi didn’t even remember his alarm going off.

Maybe that’s because it hadn’t. As he fumbled for his phone and caught a glimpse of the time, the small man felt his stomach drop. 1:33 PM. The numbers glared back, mocking him. He’d already missed about half a day of work, and he wasn’t about to miss the rest.

As he started to rush around, trying to look at least somewhat alive, he failed to notice the confused looking man sitting on his kitchen counter. “What’s the fuss for, hyung? You should be resting.”

“I have to get to work. I’ve already missed enough.” The smaller threw back at the blonde.

His entrancing blue eyes light up as he proudly claims, “I already called off for you!”

Yoongi stopped in the middle of the room, “Called… off?”

“Yeah! So you can get some more rest.” The man’s boxy smile grew larger, despite the slight scowl slowly appearing on the other’s face.

“I’m not going back to sleep.” Yoongi walked past the cute but annoying man, grabbing one of his coffee cups.

“Do you need more sleeping pills?”

“I don’t…” Yoongi paused, shaking his head before continuing to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot he made last night. He didn’t have time to start a fresh pot, he’d have to settle for warming this one up in the microwave. “I’ve never taken a sleeping pill.”

“Yes you have. Hyung said you had to ingest them but I figured you’d find them in your food. But they disappeared in the black stuff.”

Yoongi stopped and slowly turned to face the man, his happiness not at all affected by the pure stupidity that had just left his mouth. “You put sleeping pills… in my coffee.”

“Yeah in the pot.”

After a moment of dumbly staring at the man, Yoongi grabbed the coffee pot and promptly dumped it down the drain.

The blonde cried out as he watched the dark liquid go down the drain. “But I made that for you.” Yoongi knew the man probably had a little pout on his face just from the cute whiny voice.

“I appreciate the sentiment however if in the future you could try not to poison me that’d be great.” The shorter turned back to face the man perched on his counter, and sighed. “And can you stop sitting on the conter like a fucking cat.”

With a sheepish smile, the man slipped off the counter and walked towards Yoongi. He stopped barley an inch away and dropped his head onto the smaller man’s shoulder. He reached to hold Yoongi’s waist but paused, seemingly thinking better of it. “‘M sorry.” He whispered, his breath ghosting over Yoongi’s collarbone and sending shivers up the man’s spine. Yoongi sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist, slipping the other up to run through the soft blonde strands. The taller melted into Yoongi’s touch, bringing his hands to cling on Yoongi’s waist and nuzzle into his neck.

They simply stood there, the blonde practically trying to wrap himself around Yoongi as they cuddled. Yoongi thought they probably made quite the picture at the moment, the tall blonde man with enchanting blue eyes looked quite small now. Yoongi didn’t try to fight the small smile, knowing the only one who could see it was buried in his neck. This moment was so peaceful, Yoongi almost never wanted it to end.

Suddenly the smaller realized a very crucial detail. He had no idea who this man was and how he got into his apartment. So Yoongi decided to do what any logical person would do; shout, shove him off, and throw the rest of his cold coffee at the startled man.

“Why’d you throw that at me?! I made that for you with love!!” The blonde cried, trying to wipe the coffee off his face.

“Get the fuck out of my house weirdo!” Yoongi took his chance to run over and grab his frying pan. He may not be the best at self defense but he could wield a mean frying pan.

However, Yoongi hadn’t been expecting the blonde to have such quick reflexes. The moment he turns to swing, he feels a large hand wrap around his wrist. Firm and strong, but gentle at the same time. Yoongi tried to use his only hand to get free, only to end up with both hands being held in the blonde’s while he gently took the frying pan and set it down on the counter. “Jin-hyung did say you were feisty but I wasn’t expecting this.”

Yoongi stopped struggling, zeroed in on one very important word. “What did that stupid asshole do now?!”

“Hyung is the reason I’m here, remember?”

Yoongi scoffed, once again regretting giving Jin a key. He really needed to get that back. “No, my loving best friend didn’t say anything about letting a stranger into my apartment.”

“But I’m not a stranger, I’m Tata.”

Yoongi paused to look at the man, finally noticing his hair and eyes match his precious cat’s exactly. That and the feline has been missing the entire time the man has been here. “I thought hyung told you.”

“No, that little shit didn’t tell me anything.” Yoongi grumbled, seemingly done with fighting. Tae hesitantly let him go, pleased when he wasn’t immediately attacked.

“I thought that’s why you called me Tata. Cause you knew.” After receiving a confused and annoyed look, he continued on. “You know, cause my name is Taehyung?”

Yoongi didn’t say a word as he grabbed his phone off the couch. Angrily jabbing at it, he made his way to the contact to call his favorite hyung.

Jin answered after the first few rings, sounding as cheerful as ever. “Hey, Yoongi.”

“Yeah, hey. WHAT THE FUCK!” Yoongi knew starting a shouting match with Jin would break his ears, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Yah, you brat! Where’s the respect?!” came Jin’s indignant reply, so loud even Tae flinched from his spot on the couch.

“You don’t get any, you bitch. You gave me a fucking human?!” Yoongi growled out, wishing Jin were here so he could lovingly strangle him.

“Shifter.”

“You shut up.” Yoongi glared at Tae, causing the blonde to put up his hand in surrender. Pleased that one of the two idiots might behave for the moment, he went back to trying to figure out what the hell his dearest friend was thinking. “Jin I swear I’m-”

“Going to kill me? Yeah I know. But look, you like Tata and Tae is the same person.”

Yoongi flops down on the couch with a sigh, “He is a human. I had a cat yesterday and now I have a human.”

“No take backsies! Love you bye!”

“JIN!!” Yoongi shoots up again, ready to scream and curse Kim Seokjin to hell and back, but Jin had already ended the call. “I should’ve poured that coffee on his fucking head.”

Yoongi sighed, falling back onto the couch and holding his phone up “Hey Siri, add kill Kim Seokjin to my to-do list.”

There’s a moment of silence before Yoongi is reminded of Taehyung’s presence. The shifter softly placed his hand on Yoongi’s smaller one, his expression solom. “Do I have to leave now?”

“... No. I just don’t know what to do,” Yoongi sighed and opened his arms, an invitation Tae quickly accepted, curling into the elder’s side.

“Well you can throw out the cat food. It’s nasty.” Tae mumbled, his disgust causing a gummy smile to appear on Yoongi’s soft lips “And then we can get food and cuddle for the next week.”

Yoongi’s smile dims once he remembers food means money, and money means work. “I have to go back to work.” He made no effort to move from Taehyung’s comforting embrace no matter how many times he repeated that.

“Yeah after you get more rest. Please hyung?” Tae gently pulled Yoongi closer, trying to tempt him to stay, using his best puppy dog eyes and cutest pout for good measure.

“Ugh fine.” Tae’s boxy grin returned as he nuzzled into Yoongi’s side. The smaller tried to fight off the blush rising up and softly placed a kiss on Tae’s head. The shifter perked up at the action, blue eyes staring intently in dark brown ones, before tackling Yoongi and showering his face with kisses. He tried fighting back, but Yoongi has discovered when it comes to Tae, he can’t say no.

“I liked you better when you were smaller.” Yoongi whispered once Tae had stopped, his soft smile showing of his gums and making Tae’s heart melt. They affectionately stare at each other for a while longer, before uncertainty creeps into Taehyung’s gaze.

“It’s really ok for me to stay?” His voice was so quiet, Yoongi almost missed it. But he didn’t and his face softens, his gaze warm and comforting. His hands move to gently cup Tae’s face, his thumbs running over his cheeks.

“Yes Tae. I’d be sad if my favorite kitty left.”

#belle writes #bts #bangtan #bangtan boy #kim taehyung #v #bts v #min yoongi #suga #bts suga #shifter au #taeg #fluff #fanfiction

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zehecatl · 4 years ago

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L4D SPN AU, except all my information about SPN is from fanfiction and general osmosis, and also i refuse to stick to canon

or: the au wherein Ellis is a Hunter searching for his buddy/adopted brother Keith, and Nick is the demon he manages to drag along. ft. Nellis, lots of hijinks, and also Everyone Else being tired of Nick and Ellis’ stupid, stupid, slow burn romance

roles beneath the cut, because i wanna Talk About Everyone

Ellis, resident Hunter! has been looking for his adopted brother Keith for years, and is stubborn enough to keep going forever, probably. his dad got murdered by something supernatural in front of him, and the only reason he’s still alive is that his mom got there in time. was taught everything about being a Hunter by his mother, and while he’s really good at it, it’s not a job he’s overly fond of

Nick, local crossroad demon, just trying to skate on by and have a good time. raised as a mob kid, he’s really good at conning people and making deals, but would really prefer not to get involved with anything Hell-related. kind of does not vibe with them, at all. working with Ellis was supposed to be a temporary thing, but then he got attached, and it’s terrible

Coach, owner of a little roadside dinner that Ellis and Nick ends up spending a lot of time at. kind of accidentally becomes the Dad of their little group, against all reason. literally knows nothing about the supernatural, but is taking it in strides. really really tired of the slowburn Nellis. literally the kind of guy who is friends with everyone, and is wildly loved by the whole community. knows how to use a shotgun, but only a shotgun

Rochelle, a literal angel come down to smite Nick’s entire ass. was supposed to figure out why a demon is working with a Hunter because of Secret Apocalypse Reasons, but kind of grew soft for Ellis and Coach. terrifying in every fucking way. thinks guns are really neat. loves fucking with Nick. her and Coach are besties who shit talk Nick and complains about Nellis <3

Bill, veteran Hunter with a squad of duckling idiots following him around. knows Ellis’ mother. well-known in the Hunter community, and knows A Lot about supernatural creatures. helped out everyone in his little squad, and is immensely soft for them all, though hell he’d let them know this

Zoey, Bill’s adopted daughter, she was saved by him when she was very young, and through Sheer Stubbornness, managed to convince him to teach her how to Hunt. the youngest of the group, but also the toughest after Bill. also tends to take on the leader role, and push Francis and Louis around. surprisingly easy-going when not on a Hunt

Francis, was framed by a shapeshifter for a crime he didn’t commit, and ended up teaming up with Bill and Zoey to get the shifter. literally broke out of jail to go kill a fucker. is technically a wanted man. is the most gung-ho of the gang, and has almost died more times than anyone can count. bickers with Zoey a lot, but would do anything for her

Louis, the greenest of the squad, and also the one least likely to be involved in the action. the sole survivor of some kind of supernatural event, helping to hunt down monsters is the one thing that makes him feel better about it. super good at research and putting clues together; also knows a weird amount of random, dangerous, stuff. like how to build pipe bombs. can shoot a gun, but generally prefers not to get included in the murder. has absolutely bludgeon a monster to death at one point or another though

Keith, Ellis’ adopted brother. him and his brother, Paul, was taken in by Ellis’ mother when their parents were murdered. has been missing in action for some years; last Ellis heard, he was looking for Paul. is somehow involved in the Super Secret Apocalypse stuff going on, but absolutely no one cares

#l4d2 #l4d spn au #i love this au so much okay #the two gangs don't work together in general but sometimes that'll happen #torn on if i want francis/louis or nah #maybe francis has a crush on bill that'd be funny

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paper-chain-queen · 5 years ago

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Once Upon A Dream *4*

Bakugou X F.Reader

Sleeping Beauty x Fantasy BNHA AU

Words: 2,000+

Notes: you should know that this was supposed to be a one-shot.... oh well here’s the final bit :) enjoy

The Beautiful Queen took a seat at her throne, giddy for her dauhger to join the party. Everyone else in the grand hall was still starting to wake up, groggy from their unscheduled nap. Except for the guests from the Dragon tribe who were already deep into the feast, lounging as they drank from wine goblets and ate turkey legs.

“Mina!” Eijirou called out as he ran towards his mate, her black and gold eyes widened as she spotted him and gleefully jumped into his waiting arms.

“Eijirou! I thought you were with Katsuki meeting his mate.” Mina asked as she nuzzled into the red dragon shifter’s chest.

The boy gave her a bright smile and told her to ‘just wait’ which made her pout.

The rest of his friends jumped in, demanding information and the three queens only giggled at the young folks’ antics.

“Wh.. When did you get back, darling?” The King Nadir stretched as he woke up, looking over at his Queen.

“Just now, dear, now straighten yourself out, it’s a big day.” The Queen got out her handkerchief and wiped away some drool at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, yes. Where is our daughter? Is she back? Where are those fairies?” The King straightened up and looked around the large ballroom.

The trumpets blew, and the King jumped up in his seat, the anticipation killing him, the women all giggled as King Nadir reminded them of a child on his birthday.

“Come along, we’ll watch from here.” Momo guided her comrades to a stone balcony overlooking the ballroom. This was the moment they had all been waiting for, for 18 years. It was bittersweet, they would no longer be with (y/n) in the cottage in the woods, but at least she was happy and safe, her Prince by her side.

“Wait... isn’t that... Queen Mitsuki? When did they get here.” The King asked as he suddenly noticed a few other Dragon folk.

“We have a bit of catching up on dear.” His Queen comforted, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

Everyone watched the large staircase as the Dragon Prince walked with the Princess, her hand wrapped around his bicep, a shy smile on her face. The Princess’s cheeks were rosy red as Katsuki wore a cocky grin, whispering something in her ear, which only made her hide her face with her free hand, a large ruby and gold ring resting on her ring finger. Katsuki only laughed before kissing her cheek as they continued down the broad staircase.

“Is that?” Sero asked as she immediately recognized the Dragon Prince.

“Yep,” Eijirou confirmed

“With the princess?” Denki’s mouth dropped open.

“Yep.”

“Look how cute they look!” Mina practically squealed as she jumped up and down in excitement. She had to resist from morphing into her dragon form and roaring in delight.

When the handsome coupled reached the bottom of the stairs, (y/n) leaned up and whispered something in Katsuki’s ear, and it was his turn to go red as the Princess giggled and left his side to greet her parents.

The Queen wrapped her arms around her daughter and then led her to the King, happy tears in his eyes.

“Father.” The Princess slightly bowed her head and reached down to lightly graze his feet, uncertain what to do, and the King only laughed and embraced his daughter for the first time.

“Welcome home.” The King whispered, a gentle smile on his lips as he patted her dark locks.

The three faires watched the reunion from above, Izuku was in danger of flooding the balcony with all the tears leaving his eyes and Momo was quick to hand him several handkerchiefs.

Katsuki walked to the King and Queen and (y/n) returned to his side. The Dragon Prince bowed respectfully to the majesties.

“... Is this?” King Nadir asked his wife, who smiled up at him, reading his mind.

“Yes, dear.”

“Well then, Son, thank you.” The King wrapped his arms around the young Prince, clapping his back, and Katsuki coughed tried to hide his pain, (y/n) ’s old man was stronger than he looked.

“.... Do they not have shirts where you are from?” The King jested as he pointed out the very exposed Dragon Prince’s chest, who rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, not sure if he was making a good impression on his true love’s parents.

“Son? Nadir, you can’t be serious.” An angry man that (Y/n) had never seen stepped forward and basically towered over, his teal eyes glaring at her and her Prince.

“THis is outrageous!!! You think I’m going to stand by and let this savage-”

Katsuki let out a yell of defiance was ready to teach the rude red-haired man a lesson, but someone beat him too.

(y/n) in a small rage curled up her fist and sucker-punched the tall man square in the jaw, her large engagement ring leaving a lovely red mark on the right cheek.

“That’s my future husband, you are talking about.” (y/n) huffed, ready to take down the intimidating man a notch if needed.

“That’s my girl.” Katsuki smirked as he took the hand she had used to sucker punch into his hand to check on it, kissing her knuckles tenderly as she smiled at him. Her hand and the ring was fine, Enji’s face on the other hand... well maybe it was an improvement.

“Sorry, King Enji, true love conquers all, even betrothals.” Queen Sabina smirked at him, and Enji sneered before stomping off.

“Oh that’s right.” (y/n) gasped and looked around for the Prince she was promised too, catching sight of a two-toned prince standing with his snow-haired mother.

She lifted her royal blue skirt and rushed over.

“Prince Shouto, I presume.” (y/n) asked as she stood in front of the Prince.

“Yes, Princess. I’m glad that you are well. I apologize I didn’t introduce myself upstairs, there was.... a lot going on.” He said, giving her a polite smile.

“Thank you. I thought I should say... I’m sorry that I must break the betrothal. But I hope we can move together in friendship.” Princess (y/n) hoped that the Prince was nothing like his father.

“I would like that.” His smile grew and lightly took her hand in his, the future of the neighbouring kingdoms would seem to be at peace.

“Beat it Half N’ Half.” Katsuki barked at Shouto as he grabbed (y/n) ’s hand and dragged her away. The beauty smiled apologetically at the red and white-haired Prince, who just blinked owlishly as he watched.

She didn’t make it far till she felt her body ripped from Katsuki’s grip, and the Princess was looking into black eyes with gold iris’s.

“Oh my god! You’re her!? You’re the one that had Katuski tearing apart the treasury! You’re gorgeous! And wow, nice right hook! Hey, how did you two meet? What do you like about him? Wha-” The excited girl with pink scales was ripped away.

“Fuck off raccoon eyes.”

“Boo! Your no fun Katsuki!” Mina pouted as she crossed her arms, slightly fuming that her girl-talk was interrupted.

“Don’t mind him, babe, he just doesn’t want to chance anyone taking his girl.” Eijirou stepped up and threw his arm over his mate’s shoulder, trying to keep his two favourite people from causing a scene.

“Princess (y/n), this is my mate, Mina. Mina, this is Princess (y/n).” Eijirou introduced the two, (y/n) curtsied to the pink dragon shifter, but Mina just rushed forward and bear-hugged the Princess.

“We should go flying soon, I’ll show you all the spots. We’ll have a girls day and visit the hot springs and -” Mina rambled until Katsuki had enough and threw his sunshine over his shoulder and ran away to the other side of the ballroom before anyone else could take her away from him.

The orchestra started up and (y/n) patted Katsuki’s back as she still being hauled like a sack of flour.

“Dance with me?” She requested.

“Only for you.” Katsuki placed her down on the floor, and her delicate hand slid into his large, rough as he placed his other hand on the small of her back, his fingers softly feeling the exposed skin in the space between her cropped blouse and skirt.

The two danced across the marble dancefloor, the crowd watched in awe how in sync and graceful the couple danced as if they have done this times and times before.

As they danced, Katsuki leaned close to (y/n) ’s ear and sung softly, and she joined, only loud enough for the two to hear. For it was their song.

I know you and walked with once upon a dream

“Why, Izuku, what’s the matter?” Momo asked as she caught the green fairy trying to hide his sniffles.

“I just love happy endings.” He wailed, and Uraraka just giggled at her emotional friend.

“Oh, don’t they look lovely.” Uraraka gushed as she swayed with the music.

“Yes very- blue?!” Momo gasped as she couldn’t believe she had let the Princess walk in anything but pink. It was merely the superior colour in the red fairy’s eyes.

“Make it pink.” Momo waved her wand and (y/n) clothes changed from the royal blue to bright pink.

“eh! What?! Make it blue.” Uraraka jumped in shock before retaliating and changing it back.

The two tried to out spell the other while Izuku just enjoyed the dance, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop the two.

Momo missed her target, and Katsuki’s cloak turned bright pink.

“Pfft.” (y/n) tried to hold back a giggle, but Katsuki just growled, even (y/n) ’s parents laughed lightly at the sight.

“Ya damn fairies!!” He snarled as practically bared his teeth at the three on the balcony.

“Whoops sorry!!” And the fairies all hid from view while Katsuki ripped his now pink cloak off his back.

“Here, I’ll take it from you, buddy.” Eiji said as he jumped in, and Katsuki threw it at him.

“I thought that colour looked quite nice on you.” The Princess couldn’t help but tease as she laid her hand on his shoulder, fully able to admire his jewellery and muscles now that his cloak was gone.

“Get over here, I’m not done with you.” Katsuki smirked and took her around the dancefloor in a waltz once more.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

.-.--.-.-.-.-

“and they lived happily ever after.” The beloved and trusted Uncle finished

“What happened to them?” The children protested to the end of the story, what happened next?

“They lived happily ever after. What more do you need?”

The door creaked open, and everyone froze, all three wore guilty looks on their faces.

“You were supposed to be asleep hours ago.” A woman with long dark hair top with a gold crown, her massive red and gold skirt gliding across the ground.

“aww Mama, Uncle Eiji was just telling us a story.” The young girl pouted, her large ruby eyes working their magic.

“was he? What was it about?” She asked as she sat down on the soft bed.

“A beautiful princess, and dragons and curses!” Her four-year-old son, with his father’s ash blonde hair, crawled his mother’s waiting arms. She had been in exhausting diplomatic meetings all day long, and she was in desperate need for a little cuddle time.

“My, now, where would he get such a story?” The woman teased as she rocked her young son in her arms, and the red-haired man gave a guilty smile.

“C’mon, time for bed.” She tucked in her children and placed a kiss to their heads, promising them that they would go for a picnic the following day.

“Sorry My Queen, they asked for a story, and I couldn’t resist those big eyes.” Her long-time friend apologized, but he was smiling as he did so, hos sharp teeth on full display.

“Nothing to apologize for, thank you for looking out for them. How are the hatchlings?” She asked as he walked her to her chambers.

“They are starting to use their wings, it’s a bit hazardous but really exciting.” His broad proud grin was infectious.

“If you and Mina are free tomorrow, then perhaps we can all go for a picnic in the meadow by the cottage where I grew up. Maybe without scaring the deer this time.” Queen (y/n) proposed, and Eijirou nodded.

“Mina would love that. Though I can’t promise the little ones won’t try and catch a squirrel or two.” Eijirou mentioned and (y/n) giggled, Eijrou’s kids were just curious, she knew she didn’t have to truly worry about the safety of her animal friends.

“Goodnight, my friend.”

“Goodnight, your majesty.” He gave her a small salute before running off, eager to make it home to his own family.

The woman walked into her bedroom, the guard opening the large ornate door for her.

She hummed a song as she removed her crown, heavy earrings and bangles, only leaving on her wedding ring, a gold ring with a large ruby guarded by a gold dragon.

As she brushed out her hair, she let her heart’s song slip from her lips.

(y/n) wondered how Eijirou told the ‘infamous’ tale of Sleeping Beauty. He probably dramatized it a bit, but she was certain it was better than the way her husband told it.

“This Bird-beaked bastard was in my way to you. So I demolished him. Easy.”

She slipped her choli over her head and arms wrapped around her from behind, and warm lips kissed her bare shoulder.

“I can never get enough of you, why is that Sunshine?” A husky voice spoke into her ear before laying another a kiss on her neck.

“BEcause you are insatiable- eep.” She squealed as the man pinched her bottom.

“How are the brats?” Katsuki asked a gentle tone despite the gruff term of ‘endearemnt’ for his kids.

“Looking more and more like you every day, it’s not fair.” (y/n) pouted as she turned around in his grip and threw her arms over his shoulders.

“I’ve got strong genes. Maybe the third one will look like you.” Katsuki loved that his kids looked like little tan versions of him, and they had her smile, the world needed more of that precious sunshine she created.

“Insatiable.” (y/n) teased as she removed his cape and let it fall to the floor, her bare chest touching his. Katsuki’s fingers fidget with the tied knot holding up her skirt before pulling on it slightly, letting the heavy red and gold skirt slip away to the floor, leaving his Queen bare and vulnerable before him.

“Or the fourth... Or the fifth.”

“You just want your own little army of Dragon Princes and Princesses.” She teased as his hands traced up and down her bare back before resting on her hips, playfully giving her soft skin a squeeze...

“You gotta problem that?” A devilish smirk crossed his lips, but his ruby eyes held nothing but adoration for his Queen.

“Not at all.” She easily gave in and leaned into his strong form, resting her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

He subconsciously patted her hair and started humming a familiar tune, swaying from side to side in an intimate dance, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as his true love close.

(y/n) kissed the skin around his heart and then leaned up to meet his lips in a tender kiss, a tenderness that only she brought out of the Dragon King.

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

The End

#bakugou x reader #bnha fantasy au #bakugou katsuki x reader #fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #disney au

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softsweetsuffering · 4 years ago

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OC LIST (New)

Trey:

Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis

Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.

He's got a good wealth behind him.

Extremely gentle

Handsome ;)

Loves photography

Has lavender hair

Respects all

'Secretly' Plays violin

Lowkey a sugardaddy

Hamrish Benat:

Has four eyes!

Pink and blonde hair

He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)

Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)

Ready to deck a bitch

Trained nurse

Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.

Also goes by Hami/Hayden

Andy peters:

Strong, kind.

The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.

Wishes he could do more

Buff + Tall

Wears a pair of dogtags.

Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it

Is extremely brotherly to Adrian

is friends with Hami

Adrian Géarán:

Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess

Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)

likes to make little robots!

Easily bullied

Missing an arm

Struggles with normal life

Blames himself for Andys death

Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama

Chris:

Leader of a summer camp for kiddos

Huge fan of the outdoors

Loves to garden

Red head with freckles

Healthy!

Good build, a little on the below-average male height

Likes to hike

Loves kids

Strong but pacifistic

Great smile

Surprisingly a little shy around other adults

Bisexual

Himbo energy

Douglas Connelly:

Just a regular chubby guy

His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow

He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally

He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks

Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)

A bit awkward but he tries his best.

Tucker:

Badass

Bunny hybrid (ears :3)

White hair

Likes to wear denim jackets

Fast runner

Has had experience working in the force

Izekiel Iris:

Bruised and abused in a facility

Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)

Loves painting

Wallflower

Easily anxious

Loves to draw on his own arms

Matthew Libelle:

Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic

Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.

Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).

Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.

Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.

Has watermelon pink hair.

Gale:

Eldritch bab

Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand

Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster

hears voices

Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back

Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)

Doesn't have a home

Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil

Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.

Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.

Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.

Rowan maverick

Was abandoned as a teen

Also known as Rogue/Red.

Lost some of their tongues making them mute

Trained Assassin.

Previously part of a cult

Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)

Bad with Physical affection

Could use a friend

Jace

Cop/Ex Cop.

Laid off after an incident

Has a pubby called Otis

Likes the occasional beer

Dad energy

Issac Merewen

Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s

Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.

Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester

Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)

Was stored Cramped in box.

Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)

Natrually Blonde

He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.

- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D

-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.

Tyrone Li

Incubus.

Wise, Patient, caring.

Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.

Glasses.

Loves plants and flora

Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..

Glamors hide the following features:

Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.

Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)

Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.

Caspian:

Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)

Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence

He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)

Can control water, can do minor healing with water

Can make water bubble/ boil when angry

Glowy veins when powers are active

He has had many many lives

Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..

Doesn't know how many times hes died

Doesn't have alot of family or friends

Goes on many adventures

Elio Solren.

Nickname: Sunshine

Good lad.

Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.

Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.

Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.

Smiles to hide the pain

Punk/hipster vibes

Intricate golden tattoos

Doesn't open up easily

Doesn't like to admit to being in pain

Kotori

AKA Corey

Owl lad!

Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)

Loves music.

Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.

Big wings- like barn owl.

Likes to perch in trees

Jeremey Caulfield

Winter baby

Was left bleeding in the snow at some point

Father Lovely old man (John)

Mother died (Ellie)

Birthday December 23h

Blue eyes

Black hair

Russel

Box boy

Glasses

Red hair

Real sweetheart

Really needs more dev ; ;

Jules

Loves tofu n chicken

Touchstarved

Stubborn af

Kicks ass!

Has Sass

Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such

Black hair big messy pigtails

Dark brown eyes.

Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does

Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands

Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo

Trampolines!!

Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money

Sleeps on just a mattress

Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.

(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)

Miles

Part mole, part orphan

Lives underground

Very light-sensitive

Is colourblind

Absolute nerd

loves tinkering with things

is scared of humans

very foggy memories of his parents.

Leilah/ Lei

Can make/control shadows.

Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)

Lives in the woods

Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods

Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows

Kinda bad at maintaining friendships

Emotionally Distant

Wears a cloak.

Bao Ketsuyki

Blood magic bab

Short

East Asian.

Pink/red medium length hair

Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.

Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.

Has almost died a few times from her magic use.

Oran Audun

Pale

Punk

Irish

Plays Guitar

Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.

Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer

Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.

loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets

Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object

Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.

Ray

Social worker works mainly with kids.

Has a Shy guy tattoo.

His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother

Dad died but dad was good.

Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy

Short, 5’

Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)

Super dad vibes.

Owen

a hockey player n gymnast.

His mother died when he was about 9.

has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type

quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.

ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey

This leads to following his passion for Gym

Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.

Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho

Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.

actually a really sweet guy

Soft but likes his sport and jokes.

He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.

has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.

He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)

He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.

He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.

Nohea

but everyone calls him Noah.

Works at a Boba tea cafe..

likes to surf.

has an Epic board.

Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.

he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.

has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe

Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.

Ila

4’8 Soft. Short.

Ready to protect.

Loves to bake!!!

Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time

Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained

likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)

Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)

Dyes hair silver/white

Jake

Homeless

Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail

Also has fangs, and therefore venom

He's got a lot of sass

Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people

Isn't used to kindness

doesn't cry easily

Steals food

Mac Hiato

Also known as Caf

5’6

Very Grumpy.

Very often has bags under his eyes.

Hoodie is life

Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.

Has nightmares of strangulation

Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis

Scared of dark- night lights

Owns a mouse called Bean

Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.

Sits like a gay.

Lives on coffee

Minorly Lactose intolerant

Has One bad eye

Neema

Egyptian

Mechanic

Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time

dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.

Works part time at the garage

Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.

Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.

she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.

She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".

Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.

She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.

She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.

Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.

Samson (Lemonade boi)

His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)

He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.

He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)

He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)

He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)

He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)

He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.

He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)

He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.

He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)

He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.

He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.

The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.

He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.

He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins

His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.

He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)

He has a twin brother called Fraser.

Scrunches his nose

Hides his laughter behind his hand

#OC List #ocs #god this took forever #B's Ocs #my list #oc list new #fuck me ; ;#im not gonna tag all of them.. its not worth it..#thanks for the reminder anon

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spotsandsocks · 1 year ago

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @loserdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wikiangela ❤️ all the snippets

From the shifter au - it’s jumping around a bit but I think you’ll know what’s just happened 💕

Later he overhears a conversation between Buck and two teammates.

“He smells wrong.” He already recognises Buck voice easily.

The other voice he thinks belong to the older man called Chim. Eddie thinks he likes him, he already sounds tired of Buck’s nonsense.

“Buck the guy’s aftershave is hardly a reason to be a dick.”

“Not bad. Wrong. You know what I mean.” Buck sounds frustrated.

Eddie knows he should move away, not evesdrop but he can’t seem to do it

Chim’s talking again. “I really don’t, he smells fine to me. Hen?”

“Yup, new hot guy smells good, he's going to be popular, you’re just being weird and you know Bobby’s not going to like it.”

A locker door slams loudly.

“I don’t see why he wants him here. He doesn’t exactly fit in with us.”

“Hey! Bobby has his reasons,he always does.”

Chim sounds a little sterner now. “Trust him Buck. I like Eddie, he’ll be good for us. Outsider perspective, shake things up, new ideas, you know. We can’t all be the same. You know that. You’re really just upset he’s hotter than you.”

Buck grumbles but he can’t quite make out the words.

Another locker shuts more quietly.

“Well he’s not going anywhere Buckaroo so better get used to it.”

Bucks voice is still annoyed “Fine, I’ll do what I’m told but I don’t have to like it.”

@monsterrae1 @cowboy-buddie @loserdiaz @buddierights @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @jobairdxx @thekristen999 @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @thewolvesof1998 @housewifebuck @fiona-fififi @shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @the-likesofus and anyone I may have missed who wants to share 💕💜💕

#buddie wip #911 fox #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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jjkfire · 5 years ago

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Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave.

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts boulangerie #bts bookclub #jungkook fluff #raccoons are cute ):#the tame ones at least hahaha

181 notes · View notes

aelaer · 5 years ago

Note

Animal au! (Can be shifter etc): Tony is a ferret (or tiger), Stephen would be a saltwater crocodile.

For those MCU fans also familiar with more obscure LOTR lore, this could be considered a birthday gift :P

Anyway, my serious fics haven't been writing themselves for the last three weeks or so, and this is the oldest fic prompt I have in my ask box. And uh, yeah, I don't think I can do a serious take on this. So silly/fun it is. No idea if the original prompter is still around (I think ask is from the summer), but here is my take on it!

(assume alternate first meeting in this fic)

Magical Mishap

Chars: Stephen, Tony (and FRIDAY)

Length: 1500 words

Rating: Gen

I'm going to kill you, Stephen Strange's furious voice blast through his head and wow, that was weird.

Tony opened his mouth automatically to retort, but all that came out was this weird chirp-like sound. He wrinkled his nose (and he could see it now, that was intriguing) and instead thought towards Stephen. I thought you had an oath of some sort, Doc. He'd only met the doctor-turned-wizard a few times, but the killing discussion had come early on (life of a superhero and all).

Funny enough, Stephen growled—as in, he was thinking at him and actually growled, deep and low and it was the most fucking terrifying thing he had ever heard—it's very hard to remember my oath when my mind's being slammed by the instincts of a goddamn alligator smelling the fresh meat of a rodent!

Crocodile, Tony thought back at him as he scurried up the table leg and well out of reach of Stephen's incredibly horrific line of teeth. And ferrets are part of the weasel family.

Stephen growled at him again and Tony's little ferret heart started thumping in instinctive terror. I told you not to touch anything! Anything! came from the sorcerer-turned-crocodile.

I didn't know that included the books! he shot back.

It included the books! The croc snapped his teeth, then he heard Stephen sigh in his head. I don't know when Wong or anyone will happen upon my study again, and frankly put, I'm not sure how long we can wait before animal instincts override proper thought and I decide just to eat you. We need to reverse this now.

Tony looked around from the table for a good shelf to jump to. I could just remain out of reach until someone comes around; that shelf's rather high. Could ferrets make that jump? He had no idea, but it was worth a shot. He was feeling rather jittery and it looked like a fun jump.

Not willing to take that risk, was Stephen's terse answer. Here, we can do this. Can you still read?

He looked around the desk until he found something in English. Seems so. His glasses connected to FRIDAY were on the ground with the rest of his clothes. At least they were still intact; Stephen's normal clothes were completely destroyed, and the Cloak was curled up by a hearth near the foyer and nowhere near this room. Maybe it could have helped.

He wondered what FRIDAY was seeing. Was FRIDAY alerting anyone? The only person Tony had any phone number info for in this weird group was Stephen at this time, and that had been a hard enough nut to crack. Still, after this he would make it a point to get Wong's number.

That shelf looked really interesting. He wanted to jump to it.

Tony Stark! rang loudly through his head and he blinked and peered at the reptile.

No need to shout, he grumbled.

I called you three times, was Stephen's answer. I need you to concentrate and try to remain in the human part of you. What is the page number in the book you just read?

The page numbers weren't in an alphabet he knew. He missed FRIDAY. Uh, it looks like a sideways six and eight.

Seventy-four, Stephen said. Okay. Now I need you to shove the book off the table.

It turned out that pushing a four-pound book when one weighed only three pounds was incredibly difficult. Still, he managed it, and the volume went to the floor with a heavy thump.

Stephen somehow managed to turn the book the right side up with his snout, but that's where his dexterity ended. I can't get to the right page. I need you to come down and turn it to the correct page.

His little ferret heart started pounding in fear again. Are you crazy? Tony snapped. You just said you were fighting against the want to eat me!

And that will only get worse the longer this continues! he retorted. Look, I'll back away as much as I can. Stephen, to his credit, did, but there was only so much room a ten-foot crocodile could back up in his study.

Tony sighed in his head. Yeah, okay. Fine. Don't move, or I'm going to the shelves to wait for Wong or another one of your wizard buddies.

Sorcerers. Another growl went through the room.

Don't do that, either! He scurried off the table and to the book. It turned out that ferret paws were nowhere near as useful for page turning as human hands, but they were a far cry better than what crocs had.

His animal instincts were going absolutely insane with the call of danger as he flipped through the pages as fast as he could. Tony stilled when Stephen shifted, but he didn't move his feet, so Tony remained on the floor flipping and flipping until he saw the sideways six and eight again.

He fled to the shelves and jumped and scrambled up until he was on top of the bookcase. Okay, I'm good! Tony called down.

Stephen sighed. You might regret your position. He walked back to the book.

I'm further from the crocodile and I absolutely don't regret it, Tony retorted. It was nice up here. Ooh, could he jump to the table from here? No, wait, that was against what he accomplished climbing up here in the first place. Stupid weasel brain.

I don't think I can say words aloud like this, Stephen mused to himself. I haven't done silent spellcasting of this sort, but I believe I can manage it.

There was then a heavy silence and in about fifteen seconds Tony began to feel the same weird shift he felt when he was turned into a ferret.

Then he realized just how infuriatingly right Stephen was when his three pound body turned into a 170 pound body and the bookcase was having absolutely none of it. It toppled over, spilling him and all of its books onto the carpet.

"Ow," Tony moaned.

"I did tell you so," said the very annoying wizard.

Tony frowned in his direction, which only increased as he realized something. "Hey, how come you have clothes on already? I thought they were all ruined, Hulk-style." He started pushing the books aside to see if his clothes managed to avoid the bookcase, at least.

"Magic," was the very annoying answer, but Stephen did magic the bookcase back into its position so Tony didn't have to pull it up, at least. "Oh, found your glasses."

"Gimme," he gestured, and they were floated over. "You there, FRIDAY?" he asked.

"I'm here, boss."

"See the whole thing?"

"Yes, boss. I'm afraid I had no sort of protocol for dealing with this sort of situation. Should I have called one of the Avengers?"

Tony found his clothing after several more books were moved by he and Stephen. "Uh, no, no, you were right to wait to assess the situation for a few minutes." He shimmied on his boxers, then pants as Stephen politely pretended he didn't exist, public locker-room style, as he sent all his books back to the fallen shelves in whatever categorization he had going. "Next time, we're gonna have a phone number of another wizard—"

"Sorcerer."

"—sorcerer to call in case of magical mishap." He shot a look at Stephen. "Seriously, in case you do more work with us beyond this consulting you've agreed to, we'd want a number in case you're hurt, anyway."

Stephen sighed, but acquiesced with, "Fine. I'll see if Wong agrees to it."

Tony nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. "Oh, and FRI, delete all footage of the incident." No one needed to see him like that. Especially that ending.

"Yes boss."

Stephen frowned at him. "You're recording?"

"I record everything with these glasses."

The frown deepened. "Don't expect it to work in here for all future visits."

Tony now frowned. "I can stop it when you ask. There's no need to be an asshole about it."

"And you didn't need to be a douchebag who secretly records things," Stephen retorted lightly, still sorting his books.

"My glasses aren't very secretive. You've heard me talk at FRIDAY before." He sat down and pulled on his socks, then shoes. "I figured you knew."

"People don't normally record their whole life."

"Have you never been on YouTube or something?"

Stephen sighed. "You're really irritating."

"That makes two of us," Tony retorted, but he threw the wizard—sorcerer—a bone. "I'll cut the recording. There, done." He leaned back in the seat. "And I won't look inside any books anymore. Lesson learned."

Another sigh, but Stephen stacked the remaining books that needed sorting in a pile (with magic, of course) and took a seat at his desk, across from where Tony sat. "I'm tempted to never let you in here again, if this is how visits are going to be." But he was summoning some sort of drink, two cups, and actions spoke louder than words in Tony's world.

"I'll be better behaved next time," he replied, tone overly serious. "But moving on: like I told you, I found something that I think is more in your field than mine."

As he gave Stephen the small puzzle box with weird energy vibes, and saw the man's face light up in fascination and intense concentration, Tony figured that despite their differences (and similarities), that he could, in the end, potentially really get along with Stephen Strange.

#stephen strange #tony stark #avengers fanfiction #doctor strange #iron man #doctor strange fanfic #genre: humor #prompt fill #anonymous #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfic

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years ago

Text

Catspaw (1/1)

Summary: Michael grew up knowing about shifters.

Notes: Another entry in the Werecat AUs series. Because reasons.

(Read on AO3)

Michael grew up knowing about shifters.

Relatives and neighborhood kids. Family friends and all that bullshit, so it’s just like anything else to him.

Learned early on that were some who never seemed to notice when the moon waxed or waned, and some whose lives were tied to the phases of the moon.

Ones born with a touch of magic to them, comfortable in their own skin no matter what form they were in. Ones who’d gotten a rude awakening, worlds turned upside down and scrambling to find their footing in the aftermath thanks to a chance encounter or bad decision.

Ones who took what life had given them and used it to the fullest, for better or worse. Ones who fought who they were tooth and nail (fang and claw), all their lives because they didn’t know any other way. (Put their trust in the wrong people and paid for it.)

“All kinds,” his grandmother used to tell him, this look on her face that always seemed sad to him. “And every single one of them a goddamned idiot.”

Which, yeah.

Goes a hell of a long way to explain Gavin, because he’s just too much of an idiot to be normal.

========

“Something wrong?”

Michael looks up from his phone to see Jeremy giving him an odd look.

Tonight was supposed to be all fun and games and celebrating another successful heist, and odds are good it’ll get real interesting before long.

Geoff’s goading Jack into another round of darts because he claims the first Jack’s win the first one was a fluke, “c’mon, asshole, you gotta�� and Jack’s exasperation as he gives in. The Twins and Fiona are pulling some kind of hustle with some rough looking bikers, and God only know what Matt and Lindsay are up to.

Colluding, and God help them all when they put whatever plan they have in action.

Michael and Jeremy are working through a couple beers while they wait to see how things unfold, fair bit of money riding on things. (Should have known that Gavin would be the winner even though he’s not even here.)

“Gavin’s Cat got got,” he says, and tosses money on the table to cover as he gets up to cover the next round of drinks he promised Jeremy. “I need to spring the idiot from animal jail before the shelter closes.”

Jeremy gets up too because he’s the good kind of idiot. Would go along with Michael to watch his back just in case, but it’s unneccessary.

Kind of for the best if he doesn’t come along.

“I’ve got it. You stay here and make sure those assholes don’t get in too much trouble.”

Jeremy snorts, mouth twitching up little grin because they both know that’s asking for the impossible.

========

Michael’s been to this shelter before in the past, so the woman behind the counter is a familiar face.

“Hey, Sally.”

It’s a bad sign that he’s on a first-name basis with half the staff here, but Gavin’s Cat is a dumbass and they love him. He brings them all kinds of trouble in the form of strays and half-starved kittens too skittish to let the volunteers working here close enough to help.

Sally eyes Michael, the scrapes and bruises he picked up during the heist earlier, but chooses not to comment on them. (Los Santos is a rough city, and there are all kinds of reasons for Michael to look like shit.)

“We might have to charge rent, the amount of times he ends up here,” she says with a tired smile.

Michael doesn’t sigh, no, but she must see it on his face because she laughs as she gestures for him to follow her to the back. She stops in front of a cage and casts him an odd look.

“He picked up a friend,” Sally says, just as a low, angry growl comes from said cage.

Hits that pitch that has the hairs on the back of Michael’s neck lifting, ends a chill down his spine.

Low and angry. Furious.

Michael moves closer and sees a big black-furred bastard that looks like it hasn't had the easiest life pressing Gavin’s Cat against the back of the cage in a protective gesture. Looks like it would just love to go for Michael’s throat the moment he gives it a chance despite the cast on one of its forelegs.

“The fuck.”

Sally clears her throat and Michael looks at her. Sees this flicker of anger in her eyes before she tucks it away again all nice and neat. (Special place in hell for people who hurt animals and all, and it looks like someone’s had a go at the black cat in the cage, so there’s that.)

“The two of them showed up a few hours ago,” she says. “His friend wasn’t chipped, but under the circumstances we felt it was safer to leave them together.”

Yeah, Michael can see that.

Usually the strays Gavin’s Cat brings to the shelter aren’t quite so protective. Tend to look to him for protection. Let the volunteers get a better look at them while he reassures them everything’s going to be just fine.

This, though.

New.

Interesting as hell too.

The black-furred tomcat is a mean looking bastard, and the noises it’s making backs that up. Ready to throw down to protect Gavin’s Cat and eyeing them like it’s trying to decide who the bigger threat is. (The kind of intelligence in its eyes that speak to other, because of fucking course.)

Michael looks back at the little bastards. Sees Gavin’s Cat poke its head over the black tomcat’s shoulder to look at him and give a soft little meow.

Plaintive as fuck like he’s had a long night and just wants to go the hell home already. The sound of it startles the black tomcat into silence, has it twisting around to look at Gavin’s Cat with its head tilted.

Another soft little meow, a quiet trill, and the black cat’s ear flick back and forth for a moment before it stands up. Makes this worried little noise even as it lets the smaller cat move to the front of the cage to look out at Michael and Sally.

All big eyes and sad little face, this poor, pitiful me act Michael’s see a million times by now.

Knows without looking Sally’s falling for it hook, line, and sinker even though the woman deals with cuter cats than this miserable fuzzball far too often.

“How much for the bodyguard?” Michael asks, and Sally flashes him a grin because she knows Michael’s his own brand of stupid.

“For you, honey, a discount,” she says, and goes to get a cat carrier. “And I’ll loan you a carrier since it looks like you forgot yours.”

========

Michael shells out the money for the black-furred bastard's medical costs. Tacks on a bit of a bonus over that because the shelter runs on donations and they do good work. They make an appointment to bring the black tomcat back in a few weeks to get the cast off and then they’re ready to leave.

Sally offers to get help getting the bastard in the carrier, but he tells her it won’t be necessary. Both of them watching as Gavin’s Cat gently bullies his new bodyguard into the carrier. Careful nips and shoulder nudges, encouraging little chirps and trills.

It’s a bit of a production, the black cat eyeing Michael and Sally the whole while.

The drive back to the apartment is an absolute delight, what with two pairs of beady little eyes on him the whole time. A low, steady growl that starts up half a block away from the shelter and doesn’t let up until Michael pulls into the parking garage of their building.

It’s late enough by then their neighbors are all asleep, so they don’t run into anyone on the way up to the apartment.

Michael sets the carrier down in Gavin’s “office” which is more of a lair for the little troll he is and leaves the cats alone to sort themselves out as he goes to take a shower and changed for bed.

By the time he walks into the living room feeling a little more human, Gavin’s Cat is sitting on the back of the couch, tail wrapped primly around his feet as he watches Michael.

There’s this patch of darkness in the corner of the room, just a touch darker than the shadows it’s hiding in. (Unsettling)

“You better know what you’re doing, asshole,” Michael says as he takes a seat on the couch, watches Gavin’s Cat stroll over to him all casual-like, as if this doesn’t have the potential to blow up in their faces.

He gets a chiding little chirrup, the damn thing stopping to bump his head against Michael’s jaw before deciding his lap is the most comfortable spot in the whole damn apartment. Slight pinprick of claws as the stupid bastard makes himself comfortable, low purr counterpoint to the news story Michael’s watching on the television.

========

Michael wakes up in the middle of the night to fingers on his face, brushing over the scrapes and bruises from the day before, and this soft worry he can feel.

“Fuck off,” he mutters, lips turning up at the soft laughter it earns him.

Opens his eyes to see Gavin watching him, frowning down at him so much Michael can see it without his glasses.

“Michael,” Gavin says, pout to it as he tips his head to the side. “You look awful, Michael.”

Michael snorts, because pot meet kettle much? Like, goddamn, just get a look at that dumb face in a mirror sometime.

“Nice,” Michael says, because really. Nice. “Where’s your new buddy?”

No point in asking what the fuck Gavin got up to out there on his own. Asshole will just give him the runaround, find something to get him riled up about and derail the whole conversation with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He’s extra squirrely about shit when the full moon rolls around, insists it doesn’t have hold on him the way it does with shifters who don't have a drop of magic in them. (Not like Gavin has anyway. Preternatural luck and a knack for knowing things that’s stood the crew in good stead since Geoff brought him on board.)

Which, you know.

Bullshit.

Idiot gets antsy around the full moon. Begs off crew get-togethers with the flimsiest excuses that have Michael certain he’s waiting on the others to figure shit out when it comes to him. Michael doesn’t play along so much as marvel at how fucking oblivious the others are.

Gavin shrugs, this fluid little movement as he – super subtly – angles for room next to Michael. Lays down on the narrow space beside him and pushes and nudges, makes dissatisfied noises until Michael sighs and moves over to give him room.

“No idea,” he says, when he’s done fussing. “He’s shy.”

Shy.

The same demon cat that looked like he would have loved to gut Michael if he so much as breathed wrong in his or Gavin’s direction.

He's fucking shy.

Still, there’s something in the line of Gavin’s shoulders, this note to his voice that is too goddamned defensive for a simple enough question.

So.

“Alright,” Michael says. “But if he kills me in my sleep, I’m haunting your ass.”

Gavin laughs at him like ghosts aren’t a real thing in their world. Like Michael won’t do it.

“Go to sleep, asshole,” he mutters, and wonder of wonders, Gavin does.

Leans in to give Michael a quick little kiss on the cheek, eyes glinting with amusement before he reaches for the blankets and curls up against him.

========

Michael wakes up first the next morning, no real surprise there.

Gavin’s reverted to his four-footed form, which is a sign that whatever he got up last night took it out of him. He heals faster when he’s small and furry, doesn’t have to expend as much energy keeping his dumb human body chugging along.

So.

Michael goes to the kitchen, knocks about making breakfast for them both. He catches sight of Gavin’s buddy eyeing him from the top of the fridge and puts together a plate for him too.

“Hey,” Michael says, watching him carefully. “You want any eggs?”

He should feel stupid, talking to a cat like it can understand him. There’s always the chance it’s just a run of the mill cat, some stray that took a liking too, but with the way it’s watching him – yeah.

He’s almost certain it’s someone’s Cat. Shifted form that comes with new instincts and behaviors that according to Gavin can be hard to reconcile with their human ones sometimes. Makes things harder than they need to be no matter what form they’re in.

“Alright,” Michael says, when the damn thing doesn’t give a sign either way. “Hope you like scrambled.”

No response from the peanut gallery, so Michael gets out a small bowl to keep the eggs separate from the rest of the food in case the asshole’s allergic and sets it out for him.

Michael leaves Gavin’s food in the microwave and takes his own over to the table and sits down to check his messages while he eats.

There are some texts from the others, normal crew business. Reminders about planning meeting for their next heist, smaller jobs Geoff wants him on. Annoying shit Trevor wants him to look into – go with Gavin to smooth over some small misunderstanding with one of their allies. Partner up with Jeremy to remind some assholes who they’re working for, that kind of thing.

Jeremy’s also sent him some pictures he took from the previous night and the shit the others got up to. His personal favorite, though, has to be of the selfie Jeremy took after what looks like one hell of a fight.

Barroom brawl, more like.

Just a big, stupid grin on his face and this fucking black eye, guys twice his size face down on the floor behind him.

“Fucking moron,” Michael mutters, because of course Jeremy would take a selfie like that.

There’s a ruckus behind him, this clatterscrabblethump, and Michael doesn’t dare turn to see what caused it because he doesn’t want to spook the dumb cat. (Cat? Fuck if Michael knows.)

He keeps an ear out for sounds of distress, but when all he hears are the sound of the cat (Cat?) eating, he answers his messages.

========

Jeremy drops by a few hours later to pick Michael for a crew-sanctioned play date with some idiots.

He also has a package for Gavin from Matt. Hacker shit, or some tech he wants the idiot to look over for him, something like that anyway.

“Uh,” Jeremy says, sounding mildly concerned. “Did you know - “

Michael follows Jeremy’s gaze to where Gavin’s new bodyguard is eyeing them from his perch on top of a bookshelf. (Michael’s impressed he can climb up to those spots with a cast on one his legs.)

“Yeah,” he says, shooting the cream tabby that sprawled all over Jeremy the moment he sat down a look. “Gavin’s dumb Cat picked up a bodyguard last night.”

The fact that he didn’t try to claw Jeremy’s face off when Gavin’s Cat cozied up to Jeremy all friendly-like is a little surprising.

“Michael,” Jeremy says, disapproving tone in his voice as he scritches the tabby's chin. “Gavin said you were getting along better with his cat.”

And, see.

The annoying thing about Gavin’s Cat is that everyone else in the crew is so damn oblivious.

They’re just.

Real fucking dumb.

They know as well as Michael does that shit like magic and whatever else exist.

That there are werewolves roaming the streets of Los Santos aching for the full moon, vampires loitering behind skeevy clubs and back alleys looking for an easy target.

Assholes like Gavin and more out there, and still somehow haven’t realized there’s anything more to Gavin’s incredible luck than the ordinary despite all the proof to the contrary. That it’s just a finely tuned sense of intuition – human intuition – that allows him to just know the things he does.

(Who can be trusted, who can’t. Other things that can’t quit be put into words but aren’t normal the way most people define things.)

Think Michael let Gavin talk him into getting a cat when they found out about Gavin’s Cat because they all know he can’t say no to Gavin and have it stick. Don’t stop to wonder why the damn thing and Gavin are never in the room at the same time because Gavin insists his Cat’s shy, which is the biggest crock of shit Michael's ever heard, but whatever.

(Makes Michael wonder if there’s some low-level glamour involved in it, something Gavin isn’t even conscious of to explain it.)

Point is, Jeremy loves cats almost as much as Gavin and Lindsay, and he adores Gavin’s Cat. Doesn’t understand why Michael never uses the name Gavin came up with for it way back when. Something unbelievably British and dumb and so very Gavin. Thinks Michael still doesn’t like the damn thing given the times he’s voiced his dislike for cats.

“I mean,” Michael says, Gavin’s Cat watching him through slitted eyes so goddamned smug about Jeremy defending his honor. “I’m fine with tolerating the little fucker.”

Gavin’s Cat makes a pitiful little noise and paws at Jeremy’s leg. All sadness and sorrow on the inside or whatever, and Jeremy falls for the act the way everyone else does.

“Aww, it’s okay, buddy,” Jeremy says, slipping into the baby-talk voice he uses with anything cute and adorable. “Gavin loves you and so do I. Michael's just a grump.”

Michael rolls his eyes as Gavin’s Cat shamelessly snuggles the hell out of Jeremy, and shares a look with the black tomcat, because wow, yeah.

Bit much.

“Fun as this is,” Michael says, because hey. “Didn’t Geoff want us to deal with those idiots in Cypress Flats?”

Jeremy blinks, flush creeping along his cheeks as he looks up at Michael, still snuggling Gavin’s Cat like a moron.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, coughing to clear his throat. “That. We should go?”

Michael snorts.

“Probably a good idea, yeah.”

========

Michael likes Jeremy.

Thinks he’s a good fit for the crew, brought life to it they were missing in the wake or Ray’s departure and then some. (Kicked their asses into gear, showed them just how complacent they’d gotten over the years.)

He’s good for the crew, yeah, but goddamn is he trouble sometimes.

The assholes Trevor wanted them to deal with aren’t the intellectually gifted sort. No creative thinkers there, and Jeremy -

“You kiss your mother with that mouth, asshole?”

Michael sighs as he yanks Jeremy back behind cover and hands him a spare magazine.

“Could you maybe not?” Michael asks, because antagonizing the assholes into trying to kill them harder isn’t a great idea. “Just this once. Don’t?”

And Jeremy, because he’s just that kind of stupid, looks at Michael like he doesn’t understand what he’s talking about.

“What?”

========

Somehow, they don’t die horribly.

Luck or whatever you want to call it and an abundance of ammunition see the two of them through the goddamned shootout Jeremy got them into with only minor injuries.

“Didn’t even need that many stitches,” Michael says, watching the way Gavin’s Cat is sniffing at the fresh bandages he’s sporting. “But you know how Jack gets.”

Petty.

Vindictive.

Enjoys the suffering of others while making it sound like a valid concern or some bullshit.

The wound on Michael’s arm would have been fine with a few butterfly bandages, not the bulky, awkward thing Jack insisted on, but it’s not like Michael was going to be the one to point that out to him.

No.

He left that to Jeremy who came out of things with a busted lip and bruised ribs. This gash on his leg and looking like a fucking mummy by the time Jack was through with him.

So.

“I’m fine,” Michael says, gently flicking the damn tabby on the nose to get him to stop fussing. Glances to where the black tomcat is watching from the top of the bookshelf. “Seriously, everything’s great.”

He hurts like fuck and Geoff kicked him and Jeremy out of the penthouse. Banned them for at least a week, and now Michael’s got a pair of idiot Cats to deal with.

Gavin’s Cat trills, and Michael feels himself smile as the damn thing snuggles up next to him as some crappy movie plays on the television, sound of its purring chasing any lingering tension away.

========

The next week isn’t very exciting, what with Michael healing up from the shitshow of a job.

Gavin sticks to his furry form for most of it, flitting between annoying Michael and his new BFF.

The tomcat prefers to stay out of sight when he can, or on a perch as high as he can get with his bum leg. Keeps his distance from Michael, but as the days go by and he realizes Michael's more bark than bite that gets shorter and shorter.

Has Gavin smug as fuck when the tomcat curls up on the end of the couch one night while some terrible action movie plays on the television.

“Shut your mouth,” Michael says, and tweaks the tabby’s tail when Gavin’s Cat gives him this look.

The tomcat flicks an ear in their direction, but doesn’t seem to care about what either of them are doing.

Halfway through the movie he moves to the end of the couch under the safety of darkness and starts purring when Gavin sidles over to him.

It’s a nice thing to hear, this deep rumbling purr that has Michael drifting off before he knows it.

========

Geoff needs Gavin for a job, quick little meet and greet with potential allies and he’s sending him out with the Twins.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Michael says when Gavin tells him all about that. “Just when the city was recovering too.”

Latest heist behind them and rebuilding efforts just about finished, and now this.

Gavin’s rushing around getting ready before the Trevor and Alfred pick him up, but he still has time to stick his head into the living room and scowl at Michael.

“Michael,” he whines, accent mangling Michael's name in the most atrocious way. “That’s not fair, Michael.”

Gavin drums his spindly little fingers on the door frame, eyes doing this shifty back and forth as he avoids meeting Michael's gaze.

Michael, for his part, just waits. Knows Gavin can’t stand the pressure of it, and true to form he breaks a little while later.

“...Jeremy dared me,” he says quietly, like that’s any kind of excuse because Jeremy is a disaster of a human being masquerading as a responsible adult.

Trevor and Alfredo are much the same, even though they hide it better. (On their own, those two aren’t too bad. Pair them up, and you’re looking at an Incident. Toss Gavin into the mix and it’s a catastrophe.)

The black tomcat sneezes, drawing a pout out of Gavin that Michael is hard-pressed not to laugh at.

“You weren’t even there,” Gavin says, acting all indignant even though Michael can see the laughter in his eyes when he glances at Michael, mouth twitching. “You don’t get to judge.”

The tomcat yawns, showing off an impressive array of teeth and heavy judgment that sends Gavin back out of the room and down the hall in a huff.

Michael looks at the tomcat, slitted eyes and twitching tail. Seems all calm and unbothered, but Michael’s sure he isn’t.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “The city’s survived worse.”

Not...not all that reassuring, but if Los Santos is still standing after everything that’s been thrown at it over the years it can survive those idiots.

========

Los Santos at large survives Gavin and the Twins.

(A certain area in La Mesa, however, does not.)

========

Gavin’s out of town when the appointment to get the tomcat’s cast off rolls around.

The tomcat is restless, antsy and Michael is not looking forward to carting him back to the shelter.

“Okay, look,” Michael says as he sets the carrier they use for Gavin’s Cat on the kitchen table.

It makes Michael feel a little weird sometimes, but the two of them have used it on jobs before. People not realizing the sweet-faced tabby is a horrible little bastard they don’t want anywhere near their sensitive information.

“You get two choices here, buddy.” The tomcat is watching him from his favorite perch on top of the refrigerator. Not so much wary of Michael anymore as it seems to be habit. When it doubt go for height or some shit, Michael doesn’t know. “Hop in here, or if you’re going to be reasonable about things, you can have the passenger seat.”

The tomcat’s been good about things when they go the penthouse or anywhere else, but people get weird when you show up to a place like the shelter without carting your animal around in a carrier.

Weird, and super judgmental, which is annoying as fuck and Michael and Gavin don’t have the patience to deal with it anymore.

The tomcat climbs down from his perch and makes his way across the counter and the short jump to the table. Michael watches as he sniffs at the carrier, and then meows.

This affronted little thing as the tomcat looks at Michael, pointedly turning his back on the carrier.

“Yeah, okay,” Michael says. “Figured that’s what you’d pick.”

========

On the way back home, Michael glances over at the tomcat when they’re at a red light.

The tomcat’s got his front feet braced on the dash as he looks out through the windshield, watching the city around them and anxious to get back out there.

No wonder, because the poor bastard’s been stuck with Gavin and Michael while he heals up and it’s sure to driving him crazy by now. (Couple of assholes like them? Oh hell yeah.)

“Hey,” Michael says. “I know you’ve had enough of us assholes and want to get back to your life, but if you could wait until Gavin gets back to run off that would be awesome.”

Michael knows Gavin could track the fucker down again if he wanted to, but it’d save everyone’s time if he didn’t have to. (That, and Gavin’s pretty attached to the bastard.)

“I mean, hey,” Michael says, taking his foot off the brake when the light turns green. “Not like I personally give a shit, but Gavin would be annoying as fuck if you didn’t at least say goodbye.”

The tomcat flicks an ear and turns his head to look at Michael. Drops back down into the passenger seat when Michael sets his foot on the gas.

Watches Michael with those pale blue eyes and this sense of amusement Michael doesn’t appreciate one goddamned bit.

“...Fuck off, asshole.”

========

The tomcat doesn’t make a run for it the moment he can, no.

He just goes around investigating Michael and Gavin’s apartment like he hasn’t been living with them for weeks now, have the layout memorized by now. Explores every nook and cranny and gets a little daring when it comes to being in the same room with Michael.

Settles in now that he has use of all his limbs again like he’s not planning on going anywhere just yet.

“Whoa,” Michael says, when he finds it sitting just a seat cushion away from him on the couch. “How forward of you.”

The tomcat spares him a look, mild annoyance that is miles from the baleful look Michael would have gotten at the beginning of this little mess.

It’s clear the tomcat is more comfortable with Gavin, allowing the little shit to snuggle up to him in either form, but still keeps his distance with Michael.

Which, fair.

Michael chuckles and puts on another shitty movie for them to heckle the fuck out of.

========

If Gavin’s surprised the tomcat's still there when he gets back to Los Santos, he doesn’t show it.

No.

The little fucker just smiles, all soft and quietly pleased and Michael has a hard time giving him shit for it, so he keeps his trap shut.

Watches out of the corner of his eye as the tomcat goes up to him to welcome him home, deep rumbling purr filling the air and this tightness in Michael's chest.

========

When the next full moon rolls around the tomcat gets restless, antsy. Growls at Michael when he makes the mistake of getting too close. Thought the progress they’ve made towards one another would hold in the face of the way the full moon is affecting him and miscalculated.

The tomcat growls, takes a swipe at Michael with his claws out and ears flat against his head as he struggles against base instincts.

Michael apologizes as he moves back, but Gavin’s had enough.

Shifts into his Cat form and pounces on the tomcat, wrestles him down.

For a moment Michael's worried he’s being a reckless idiot again. Thinks the tomcat isn’t struggling with his instincts going a little haywire on him with the full moon affecting him the way it is – but in that weird, infuriating way of his, Gavin is right again.

The tomcat snarls and growls, lets out these noises that get at Michael's hind brain, but he doesn’t hurt Gavin’s Cat.

Bigger and stronger, more muscle to him against the tabby’s agility and nimbleness, and yet Gavin’s Cat wins. Pins the tomcat under him and this smugness to him as he looks over at Michael, purring away like an idiot.

“Fucking Christ, Gav,” Michael mutters, because he’s an idiot.

Throws himself headfirst into the worst situations and somehow comes out on top.

And sure, Michael knows the tomcat wouldn’t hurt Gavin or his Cat, but the full moon plays merry hell with shifters of all kinds. Pure animal instinct against puny human brains and everything they fuck themselves up over the years to fit in with non-shifters.

Gavin’s Cat chirrups, and gets to his feet. Backs up a little and peers down at the sullen looking tomcat. Cocks his head and – like the idiot he is – bats at the tomcat’s face before hopping backwards.

Light, playful. Silent dare in it as he back up a little more, tail up and ears forward.

The tomcat watches him for a long moment, gaze flicking to Michael and back. Unsure of what the right response is after the little scuffle, and full of restless energy he needs to work off somehow.

So.

Gavin trills, and bounces forward to bat the tomcat’s face again, and that’s what does it. Has the tomcat up on his feet and chasing Gavin around the room until they both zip through the window they always leave open just enough for a Cat to slip through and out into the city.

Michael sighs, and sets to cleaning up the mess they made of things during their brief game of tag. Shit knocked over everywhere and a goddamned disaster, but that’s nothing new with Gavin, so there’s that.

========

Michael’s chasing after another perfect game when the two idiots get back. Morning not too far away and Gavin is very much a smug asshole.

Chirps at Michael as he walks across the couch to him, head held high along with his tail and looking far too pleased with himself. The tomcat is a bit more reluctant, seems to be dragging his feet as he jumps up to the couch. Keeps more distance from Michael than he has been, like he’s concerned about Michael’s reaction to him.

Looks at him, pale blue eyes and this thing that reeks of guilt.

Nervous, almost, and then Gavin’s there.

Little noises and shoulder nudges, pushing the tomcat closer to Michael just the tiniest bit and settles himself between them, a living breathing barrier that starts purring when the tomcat butts his head against the tabby’s.

Michael watches the two of them from the corner of his eye and bites back a sigh because these assholes, okay. These fucking assholes.

========

To no one’s surprise, the tomcat disappears a few days later.

Just up and vanishes on them, not so much as a goodbye.

“Rude, innit,” Gavin says, but he doesn’t sound too broken-hearted over it, has that look to him that says he knows a secret Michael doesn’t, so Michael doesn’t worry.

========

“And then,” Geoff says, voice carrying over the muffled groans from the others, “and then Jack comes in with the Cargobob and we fly away into the sunset like assholes.”

Michael glances at Gavin, sees the smile pulling at his mouth he isn’t letting free quite yet, and knows the fucker had something to do with their latest heist. (Always does, somehow. Pieces of him all over the fucking place, and more he left behind with the Roosters.)

“Just had to stop for Starbucks, didn’t you?” Michael mutters, because they missed the best part of the briefing, didn’t get to see the new hired muscle’s reactions to it when Geoff unveiled the miniatures Geoff had mocked up for these things.

Gavin shrugs and takes a noisy sip of his drink – something stupid complicated because he knows the assholes in line behind him will equate it to Sophistication and be impressed with him or some shit.

Michael watches him as he shoves his gaudy as hell sunglasses into his hair, glint of amusement in his eye and the living embodiment of trouble.

“It’s been a long week, Michael,” he says, going hard on his accent to mangle Michael’s name. “Needed the caffeine.”

Michael shakes his head and – because manners – knocks on the conference door before shoving it open.

Takes a quick glance around to see the rest of the crew in their usual seats and Geoff standing by the whiteboard at the head of the table, pointer in hand.

The hired muscle is leaning up against the far wall, little patch of shadows cast by the fuckoff huge potted palm in the corner.

Big guy.

Distinctive leather jacket, but it’s the dumb mask that draws the eye.

Some Halloween store bullshit, edgelord supreme with the black skull and way over the top, so naturally Los Santos loves the drama of it all. People coming up with all kinds of stories about the asshole to terrify the newbies with, idiots new to town who don’t know anything about the shitshow they walked into.

The Vagabond looks over at them, gaze moving past Michael’s shoulder to land on Gavin for a moment before it settles on Michael.

Anyone else, and it would be a challenge. This fucker though?

It feels like a question.

Michael rolls his eyes and looks at the miniatures set up on the conference table, all customized and shit for each of them. (Even the Vagabond has one.)

What look like generic little toy cars for the heist vehicles, except of course for Jack’s Cargobob, because they’re all idiots.

By the looks of things the briefing has already broken down into confusion and chaos, the others poking holes into his “brilliant plan” while it’s still in the early stages. Ripe for mocking and more than ready for things like common sense and all that boring shit to be brought into the picture.

“You figure out what we’re going to do with the tank?” Michael asks, because last he heard that was a complication, ugly little snag in the heist plans no one had figured out yet and it would nice to know before they finalize anything.

Geoff clears his throat and someone has a coughing fit.

“I’ve always wanted one for myself,” the Vagabond pipes up, like that’s not a crazy thing to say. “If I take it out of the equation, do I get to keep it?”

That should really be a no, or even a hell no, based on the more reliable stories about the guy, but since this is them?

“Sure,” Geoff says, and throws his hands in the air in defeat. “Why the fuck not. Surely nothing could go wrong there.”

========

The next few weeks are taken up with heist planning. Fine-tuning Geoff’s initial plans until they’re less likely to result in the crew’s demise (fiery or otherwise) in horrible ways.

“Nice,” Michael says, when he hears their estimated odds of survival, hovering somewhere just above fifty-fifty. “I’m filled with confidence.”

Gavin rolls his eyes because he’s a rude fucker, but the Vagabond over in the corner sharpening his knives snorts.

Gavin shoots him a betrayed look the guy ignores, and Michael -

Well.

He knows why Geoff wants him around when everyone else is out doing their bit for the sake of the heist. Knows he has enough trust in the Vagabond being a professional to bring him in on the heist, and just enough paranoia that he doesn’t want to leave him alone with Gavin. (God knows Gavin could drive anyone to murder without even trying.)

Still.

The Vagabond’s a weird asshole to be sure.

Quiet and watchful and all that shit. Keeps to himself and doesn’t talk much, but he’s not what the stories make him out to be from what Michael’s seen.

Doesn’t try to intimidate any of them. Even the thing where he likes to sharpen his knives or clean his weapons isn’t...whatever the hell they should be. Feels more like a comfort thing to him, something familiar to take the edge off being in a new place surrounded by people he doesn’t know.

(The fact he seems more at ease around Gavin and Michael isn’t lost on him, though.)

“Michael, you’re such a pessimist, Michael,” Gavin mutters, like Michael should be thrilled at the fact they all stand a chance of maybe dying horribly in Geoff’s dumb heist. “Things will be fine.”

========

“Okay, look,” Michael says, only bleeding a little bit. “So you go get the car, I’ll hold them off.”

He gets a look from the Vagabond, disbelief and incredulousness and this very clear sense of no and are you crazy? and Jesus fucking Christ and the asshole hasn’t even said anything.

Michael sighs, because there are sirens in the distance getting closer and a few dead bodies scattered around them in the alley.

Also, one of the reasons he’s bleeding is gnawing on his shoelaces.

A tiny, adorable ball full of fluff of sharp little claws and teeth. Fierce protector of its siblings and ailing mother and no, those are not his heartstrings being tugged. Indigestion, maybe, because fast food plus a shootout in a gross alley don’t go well together.

“Look asshole,” Michael says, unamused by this whole...situation. “You’re the one who started fussing with the damn strays, you go get the fucking car.”

Michael will stay behind to make sure they don’t follow the idiot and (hopefully) they all get out of this before the cops show up because it would just destroy the image the Fakes have built up for themselves as badass mofos. (Like anyone ever believed that, but he knows the kinds of headlines this would get for them with fucking Risinger out there.)

The Vagabond gives Michael another look, and then sighs in much the same way Geoff does when he realized the horrible mistake he made recruiting them for his crew.

“...Fine,” the big baby huffs, and trots off to bring the car around.

Michael has to hold a kitten back when it tries to follow him. Sets the foot not being viciously attacked in front of it and gently push it back into the pile of kittens huddled around their mother who’s watching Michael.

Too sick to get up and defend her little brood, but the little calico shredding the fuck out of Michael’s shoelace is doing a damn fine job of things herself.

“Fucking hell,” Michael mutters, because this is his life now, isn’t it.

Strays all over the place and all of them a pain in his neck and Jesus Christ, if he’d known this would happen when Geoff first approached him about a job he’d have said no. (Would have been smarter, to begin with. Save himself a whole hell of a lot of heartache with the trouble the assholes in his life get into all the damn time.)

========

Sally totally doesn’t laugh at Michael when he brings mama cat and her balls of fluff in to get checked over, goodness no.

Doesn’t even bat an eye at the Vagabond standing behind Michael with his dumb mask or the lame excuse that he’s just a friend who’s going to auditions for a show later and is one of those pretentious method actor types. (Would the real Vagabond give a shit about a cardboard box of strays? Fuck no. It’s just a loser theater nerd with a soft heart.)

“Either of you get scratched or bitten?” she asks, handing the box over to a volunteer who coos at the kittens even though the calico is trying to tear through the box powered by her own righteous fury and indignation.

Michael holds up his hand to show off the scratches the calico gifted him with, and sighs as Sally continues to totally not laugh at him.

“Well,” she says, like a consummate professional. “At least you’re up to date on your rabies shots.”

That -

Yeah.

Silver lining and all that shit.

“Put it on Gavin’s tab,” Michael says, waving his uninjured hand to where the volunteer took the box of strays. “Idiot owes me after last time.”

Sally nods, likely expecting that, and leaves Michael and the Vagabond in the shelter’s waiting area until they’re done with the strays.

They could leave, sure. Trust Sally and the others here to handle the damn things, but Michael’s certain he’d have a fight on his hands if he tried that. The Vagabond’s turning out to be a stubborn bastard and after dealing with Gavin and the others as long as he has, Michael’s learned to pick his fights.

The Vagabond stays silent while they wait. Seems tense and uncomfortable here, and Michael has the feeling it’s not just due to the stares he gets.

“Hey,” Michael says, and snaps a picture of the asshole when he looks because Geoff has been texting him like crazy since Michael told him their part of this prep phase didn't go well and is concerned they’re dead in a ditch somewhere. “Geoff wants proof of life.”

The Vagabond has this – okay, Michael can’t see his face with the dumb mask in the way, so it’s more like body posture and shit – but he’s wondering why the hell he agreed to whatever job offer Geoff gave him.

Which, you know. Too damn late for that now.

========

Gavin and Jeremy make the most ungodly noises Michael’s ever heard when he and the Vagabond go back to the penthouse with a box of strays.

Mama cat’s on antibiotics for the next few weeks and her and her kittens have been cleared to go, although they’ll need to be get their shots soon.

The kittens burst out of the box the moment Michael sets it in his and Gavin’s room to give mama cat somewhere quiet to recover and a safe spot for the kittens to retreat to.

Or would, but the little brats tumble head over paw after Michael when he heads to the living room. Most of them make a beeline for the Vagabond, but a few of the stragglers go over to investigate the mystery that is Jeremy’s fashion sense and Gavin is going to run out of room on his phone with all the filming he’s doing.

Michael rolls his eyes at the idiots as he goes to tell Geoff about the bizarre day he and the Vagabond had.

“Think she’s trustworthy?” Geoff asks him, once the door shuts behind him, hint of a smile on his face.

Michael glances down to where the calico is exploring the conference room, all fluffed up like she’s expecting an enemy to pop up out of nowhere.

“Better than those assholes out there,” Michael says, because God knows they’d sell each other out for shits and giggles. Or maybe just a bag of chips.

Geoff gives Michael a look because he knows, okay, he fucking well knows.

========

They can’t have a bunch of cats at the penthouse, too much dangerous shit around and Geoff’s peace of mind at stake, but.

By the end of the first week the kittens are all claimed. Little collars on them with the name of whoever is bringing them home with them when they’re old enough written on them. (Jeremy, the absolute madman is taking three of them, because he’s trying to out crazy-cat person Lindsay.)

Gavin keeps laughing at Michael because the calico won’t fucking leave him alone, and the Vagabond?

He’s got this soft spot for mama cat, and Michael doesn’t blame him.

She was too sick at the time to scare them off from her kittens, but stubborn enough to put herself between them and the stupid humans who stumbled over them. Watched them from her hiding spot like she’d like nothing better than to tear into them if they made a wrong move, and watchful the whole time Michael and the Vagabond toted the lot of them around.

Pretty little tuxedo cat, bright green eyes and this soft meow, sweet as anything.

“My building doesn’t take pets,” the Vagabond says late one night.

Everyone’s gone home and Geoff and Jack are out schmoozing with allies, and it’s just the three of them. (Five, if you count the calico and mama cat.)

Gavin’s passed out after one too many all-nighters working on the heist, and drooling like fuck all over Michael’s shoulder. There’s a shitty made for television movie about the dangers of something or other on and the Vagabond’s brooding.

Michael glances over, sees sad panda Vagabond with mama cat on his lap, and sighs.

The Vagabond’s one of theirs now, in too deep with the crew to back out and all that shit. Made the mistake of getting attached and now he’s trapped here same as Michael, poor bastard.

The calico’s asleep next to him, sharp little claws digging into his leg every so often as she dreams or whatever it is cats do when they sleep.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, because he knows where this is headed. “I can’t stand cats.”

========

The next full moon is a little hectic, what with a heist in the works and Gavin being the general sort of lunatic he always is.

And, you know, a pair of normal cats thrown into the mix because Michael's a soft touch and the worst kind of sucker there is.

The calico’s not so quick to want a fight these days, but she’s not thrilled when the tomcat shows up out of nowhere.

Hisses and snarls and flashes her claws at him when he slips through the open window because hey, no, this is her little kingdom asshole, get the fuck out -

And then she must catch her scent because she freezes. Goes stock still for a long moment before he breaks and dashes over to where Gavin’s Cat is lounging on the back of the couch next to mama cat.

Confused as hell and seeking comfort and Michael -

“Hey, asshole,” Michael says, watching the tomcat as he ventures over. “Been a while.”

Michael gets one of those looks, and he cracks a grin as the tomcat touches noses with mama cat before greeting Gavin’s Cat.

All nice and polite and Gavin’s Cat chirps, delighted to see the tomcat show up here again after staying away for so long.

There’s this little pause, and then Gavin’s Cat reaches out to bat the tomcat on the nose, head cocked just so.

It’s been a long week for all of them, but the full moon’s got Gavin’s Cat itching to get out in the city to run amok for hours now. Restless and antsy waiting to see if the tomcat would show up for another round of wacky antics and other shenanigans.

The tomcat glances to Michael for a moment, like he’s asking permission as if that’s ever meant a damn thing when it comes to Gavin or his Cat.

Nice of him, though. Polite, unlike others Michael could name.

He looks at the tomcat, and can’t help but smile at the way the fucker holds his gaze, doesn’t look away.

Trust or something like it, and it’s worth everything in the world.

Gavin’s cat makes an impatient noise and rises to his feet, giving the tomcat a little nudge with his shoulder to get him moving towards the window.

The tomcat’s bigger and stronger than Gavin’s Cat. All these scars and marks of honor from past fights and scuffles, and he still lets the little bastard push him around, all amused about it.

Michael snorts because they make quite the pair, and shares a look with mama cat and the calico. They might just be normal cats, but they know idiots when they see them.

“Just try not to set anything on fire,” Michael calls after them, and listens to the pitter-patter of little feet out to wreak havoc in the city as they make their way up the fire escape.

========

Michael wakes up to the smell of cooking bacon, and is instantly suspicious.

Gavin knows the basics off cooking, can (mostly) boil water without burning it, but generally speaking he’s not an early riser. Sure as fuck wouldn’t bother cooking breakfast when he can grab some at the place down the street or cajole (annoy) Michael into cooking for him.

And, like he knew he would, he passes Gavin sacked out on the living room couch with mama cat curled up against his side and the calico on his chest.

Curiosity piqued, Michael pokes his head into the kitchen to see some asshole standing over their stove frowning at the pan of bacon he’s cooking.

Michael should be concerned about some stranger breaking into their place to...cook bacon, but whatever.

It's too early for the dramatics and the guy has a decent enough face.

Nothing to write home about, but it’s not horrendous or anything.

The guy doesn’t seem to have noticed Michael’s presence, so it gives him a chance to take in the finer details or some bullshit like that.

Decent face, and the guy’s hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. He’s clutching a can of diet soda in one hand like it’s a lifeline.

“Hey,” Michael says, because the only reason they have that shit on hand is for when the Vagabond comes over to visit mama cat. “You look like hell.”

The guy blinks, and frowns harder at the bacon sizzling away like he thinks it’s talking to him, and then he seems to realize what an absurd thing that would be and looks over at Michael.

Has this moment where it’s obvious there’s nothing going on upstairs, and then -

“Well that’s just rude,” the guy says, familiar voice and the lightest dash of sarcasm ever. “Good morning to you too.”

Michael hmms, and decides someone needs to start the coffee since this idiot doesn’t touch the stuff unless it’s a last resort.

“You idiots have fun last night?” he asks as he measures out the grounds and fills the coffee maker reservoir, something comforting to the routine of it all. “Or should I just watch the news?”

The guy mumbles something too low for Michael to make out, and going by the blush that hits his cheeks, Michael’s betting he doesn’t want to turn the news on just yet. Might want to wait on that, or until one of the others calls to see if he knows anything about whatever happened.

So.

“You have a name?”

Oh, Michael knows who the asshole is, but seeing as he’s not wearing the stupid mask right now it feels wrong to call him the Vagabond.

Michael gets an exasperated sigh, but hey, not his fault the asshole keeps coming back for more, now is it?

“...Ryan,” he says after a long moment, another show of trust Michael hasn’t done a damn thing to earn. “It’s Ryan.”

Not the kind of name you’d expect for someone with a reputation like the Vagabond, but this sleepy looking asshole? Yeah, Michael can see it.

“Bacon’s starting to burn,” Michael says, because Ryan’s got this wary look to him now. Expecting God knows what now that he’s given up another piece of himself like this.

Ryan swears under his breath as he takes the pan off the burner and salvages what he can.

Michael pulls up a chair to enjoy his coffee and listen to Ryan muttering to himself as he finishes making breakfast. He’s got a few missed calls and messages to go over, and it’s a rare moment of quiet before the others come looking for food, so he’ll make the most of it while he can.

========

“For a guy who hates cats as much as you do, you’ve got quite the collection,” Jeremy says, teasing the calico with a piece of string.

Michael grunts, because the tomcat is heavy as fuck and kneading the hell out of Michael’s legs as he settles in for the long haul.

Gavin’s Cat is sprawled over Jeremy’s legs and mama cat is curled up in the bed someone got her a while back. The calico is being what can only be described as rambunctious because Jeremy loves to rile her up when he comes over for shitty movie night.

“Yeah, well,” Michael shrugs because Jeremy and the others are still idiots who have no damn clue about anything and Michael’s just as dumb in his own way because this isn’t completely terrible. “Life’s a bitch like that.”

#mavin #mavinwood #(they're getting there)#ragehappy #touch not the cat #vagrant fic #omg i'm finally done with this #idek what it is anymore? but yes #i know you've done it before #\o/#werecat aus

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coaldustcanary · 6 years ago

Text

fic: Thrown to the Wolves (1/?)

Werewolves are pack creatures, but Emma "Swan" Blanchard has always preferred to work alone. When a missing wolf and a dead body smell like imminent trouble for the werewolves of Portland, she returns home to the city to track down whoever's responsible. She soon discovers that she's not the only one trying to figure out what's going on in her old stomping grounds, and soon finds herself stuck with a partner - the infamous Killian "Hook" Jones - in more ways than one.

Author’s Note: At long last, my contribution to the @cssns - my self-indulgent World of Darkness/Werewolf: The Apocalypse AU. Due to unavoidable issues entirely on my part, this work is dropping without any associated art - my apologies.

Also available on AO3. Rated M for mature themes, sexual content, violence, and shady werewolf politics.

The park on the south side of the bay was large, dotted with clusters of trees and spread over a vast hillside overlooking the water, meeting it directly at high tide, and with a rocky, muddy beach when the tide was low. It was shaded by a passing bridge and highway, and offered the perfect vantage point from which to see ships coming and going, or the array of vessels large and small moored in Portland across the way. From massive cruise ships making their way from warmer climates to stolid cargo ships laden with containers from Scandinavia all the way down to the squat little lobster boats and the rare elegant tall ship looking like something out of time, Portland’s harbor bustled. It was both a working harbor, with heavy trade in international shipping, and a tourist’s playground, clustered with restaurants and bars. Just beyond the harbor, on Commerical Street, for a few blocks both groups created a busy throng of cheerful humanity.

Even here, across the harbor and the Fore River in South Portland, gentrifying neighborhoods and a fair view made for more traffic, more tourists – and much less parking. Emma cursed under her breath as she eased the Bug into a narrow spot along the road that bound the south side of the park and the crest of the hill, turning the wheels into the curb and applying the parking brake to keep the old beast from rolling on into the sea. Turning off the ignition, she laid a hand lightly on the car’s dashboard, closed her eyes, and let her consciousness seep down into the sun-warmed metal.

“Blend in, buddy,” she murmured. A grumbling, mildly offended vibration was the only reply the car deigned to give, but as she opened her eyes, the sunny yellow on the car hood seemed to fade, and without any conscious thought, her gaze slid away from the car to the park and the flowered bushes just beyond. With a small smile, the opened the door and stepped out into the summer heat, walking away from the vehicle that even she had a hard time laying eyes on, now, let alone anyone else passing by. The Bug might be a difficult car to keep running, but decades of “life” had given the car a powerful spirit inhabitant that could be coaxed into cooperation nearly as easily as a dog could learn new tricks. It was more than worth the trouble, even if it meant the odd game of fetch with a bicycle tire now and again to keep it happy.

The warm, humid air was thick with the scent of mown grass and the beach roses that dotted each cluster of bushes. Beneath the heavy scents of summer the pungent, salty earthiness of a receding tide mixed with the acrid exhaust and oil from cars and ships filled Emma’s nose, nearly overwhelming her senses. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and smiled.

“So they finally believe after all.” Emma’s breath caught briefly in her throat, but she forced herself to exhale slowly, and only then open her eyes. The sight of August’s face prompted both a pang of relief and a certain undercurrent of shock. His familiar features were far more careworn than she’d ever seen them, and both his hair and scruff were peppered liberally with gray. When he’d found her as a child on the streets, sick and panicked, her body fairly vibrating with the need to become the wolf for the first time, he’d been barely out of his teens himself. Now he seemed, if not old, older than he ought to have been. The life of a city wolf came with certain benefits, but nobody would ever call it easy. Emma looked down, away from his faint smile and forced a smile of her own even as her chest tightened with guilt.

“It’s good to see you. Despite circumstances,” she said. August smiled crookedly.

“It’s good to see you, too, Emma. Looks like the woods and wilds have been good to you,” he said, tilting his head to look her over with the same curious scrutiny she’d paid him, his gaze lingering.

“Though I can’t imagine that jacket is very good camouflage,” he added, a hint of teasing humor in his tone. Emma shrugged and tugged at the red jacket’s hem pointedly.

“It’s not. The jokes I hear about hunter’s orange are really old and unoriginal at this point, but I’m not changing my style for any stuck up, stuffy werewolf nobility with more names than brain cells. They all wear clothing out of last century. Or camo. Or even plaid, when they’re obliged to blend in with the humans,” Emma grumbled. August snorted, shaking his head.

“You can take the wolf out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the wolf,” he said gently. “I did warn you. And them. But I don’t think your mother wanted to hear it.” As August spoke, he turned and gestured down the path for her to walk with him into the park territory of the city wolves. Emma hesitated, eager fondness to return warring with cautious instinct to hang back The scents of this place were so familiar, but at the same time every wolf’s instinct in her body urged her to stay back, out of this place marked and claimed by other wolves, wolves who weren’t her family any longer. August was at her side suddenly, his hand very lightly resting on her shoulder.

“It’s still your home. It’s always your home,” he said firmly. Emma swallowed and nodded once, jerkily, taking a few cautious but deliberate steps down the path, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. She let out the breath she’d held onto for too long in a steady stream, and looked sideways at August who paced her, stealing regular glances in her direction. When their eyes met, she held them briefly – not long enough to hint that she was challenging him, mindful of how the wolf could take eye contact – and managed a small smile.

“Thanks.”

“It’s only the truth. I just wish…” He paused, and at Emma’s searching look, managed a tight smile in return.

“Never mind. You’re where you need to be. But I’m glad they understand how risky this situation is for us all, and let you come back to help us.” The edge of relief in his voice was palpable, and Emma grimaced.

“Well. Gotta be honest, here. They still don’t exactly agree with you on that,” she said slowly. August’s brow furrowed.

“Then why-“ he began, and then stopped abruptly, his eyes widening. “Oh, Emma. You didn’t…”

“She didn’t outright forbid me from coming.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I might not have told her that I was leaving, though.” August groaned, clutching a handful of the hair at the back of his head in frustration.

“No, don’t act like that,” Emma started, pointing a finger at him. “You taught me the rules just as well as anyone-“

“Yes, as we follow them, here in the city. Loosely. Subject to interpretation and balanced with our need to survive among humans,” August said intensely, pitching his voice low and for her ears only. Some subjects it was best not to let strangers overhear.

“I haven’t broken any of our laws, August. I’m respecting claimed territory, both yours and theirs. I announced myself when I came, and I was permitted entry, or did you actually mean to tell me to go to hell instead of welcoming me ho-here?” Emma drew herself up straighter, a sharp edge to her voice. August abruptly turned from her and started walking, pulling Emma along by her sleeve. She fought down the snarl of anger and jerked her arm free, though she kept pace with his rapid stride, even as he snapped a reply.

“And what of your responsibility to your mother? To your pack? I sent word to you about what’s going on here because I knew you’d believe me. I thought you could convince the Storybrooke wolves that a wolf gone missing like this is just as much a danger to them as it is to us here. Even if a Kinfolk’s death is nothing they will care about,” he growled. Even as he spoke, August continued walking out on the dock that extended from the wedge of parkland tucked under the highway bridge overpass to the city. The sun was sinking below the horizon to the west, casting long shadows into the river, and though it remained humid and still, the temperature was dropping quickly. August only stopped walking once there was nowhere else to go but the river itself, staring pensively across its modest expanse to the city on the other side.

“She didn’t forbid it, August. That has to be enough. And you know my pack would stick out here like a sore thumb. They’re very good at being werewolves, but they’re not at all good at keeping a low profile. Even if I could convince them to help me, it would be a disaster. They’d talk to spirits right and left and look crazy to the humans. And if that wasn’t enough to get the cops called, they’d probably come armed to the teeth with medieval-looking weapons and wearing armor. Can you imagine Mulan casually toting her sword around the city, looking for an enemy to stab?” August sighed

“We could use their help, though. They might not trust city wolves much, but we’re all in the same boat, here.” Emma shook her head, fighting to keep her voice even.

“You’ve visited Storybrooke, what, twice? On formal occasions only? You don’t know how they are when they’re being honest. Merida told a grand tale at the last full moon gathering, you know, about how great it was that the wolves had taken out all the rest of the shifters. It was this incredible story about how great it was that the werebears were all dead, and how her father had gloriously slain one himself in single combat. She’s a bit extreme, maybe, but it’s not even unusual up there. It’s been a decade since a wereraven has been seen anywhere in the North Country, let alone Storybrooke, and they used to be our allies. And the other wolves don’t even pretend they don’t wish that they could go hunt down the last few werecats for fun.” August held up his hands against her tirade.

“As if they’d find them…” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. “But I know, Emma. I know. They’re self-righteous to a fault, but it’s not a bear or a cat we’re talking about here, it’s a wolf. It’s Will. He’s gone, and we can’t find hide nor hair of him, not the slightest trace.”

“And Liz?” Emma asked. She knew the truth of it, likely better than he did, but she had to hear it in his own words.

“Traces…everywhere.” He blew out a breath, settling on an overturned bucket with slumped shoulders. Emma crouched on her heels, squinting slightly against the glare to peer across the river before she began to speak, reluctance in her tone.

“The cops are still confused. Official investigation theory is that animals got to the body, but it doesn’t fit the timeline at all. She had not been dead long when they found her.” August looked at her sharply and Emma shrugged. “We don’t really do the high tech stuff up in Storybrooke, but Dad’s still the town sheriff. We have Kinfolk in every position of authority there. I had him pull the file from the state database. Walked him through it, step by step.” She’d hated to do it, to prevail upon the man she’d known for only a scant few years for a favor, the kind she’d wheedled as a bounty hunter from Portland police contacts under Cleo’s training. But as hungry as she was to know her family and understand their strange ways, they were just as eager, just as quick to try to connect with her in whatever way they could.

Even if for her father it meant providing illegally-obtained crime scene photos that she could pore over for evidence that one of her old acquaintances had committed a gruesome murder that could put every werewolf in Maine in jeopardy. And when push came to shove, and she had formally asked her mother for permission to return to the city, he had supported her mother’s stern denial. Not that it mattered. He was only Kinfolk, of course. Hardly more than human, and outside the city, that meant useful and little else.

Oh, her parents loved one another. That had been a strangely comforting realization, to see that even traditionalist werewolves who lived outside of human civilization as much as possible could still see the value of individual human-like Kin for anything besides breeding and propagating the next generation of werewolves. But when your spouse, or your parent, or your sibling couldn’t take the wolf form or speak with the spirits to learn their secrets, it made them less for many werewolves, particularly those who lived in their own private fiefdoms, like her family and the land they ruled, protected by magic. Kinfolk were plentiful – they outnumbered werewolves by a significant margin, with the magic, or genetics, or whatever it was that created them a fickle thing – but in the town of Storybrooke, they played a role more than anything.

David, her father, might be the town sheriff, but when your wife was one of the highest-ranking werewolves on the North American continent, what did it matter? When your mate could take the form of a terrifying wolf-human hybrid and have any mere human gibbering with fear, had slain vampires, fought off multiple challenges for her throne, and bartered with powerful spirits for secrets beyond mortal understanding, a badge and a service revolver meant precious little.

So he’d been glad to help her – he was so fond of her, so proud of all she’d become, and her mother was, too, in her way – but when it came to a decision, when it came to action, his voice was silent. It wouldn’t have mattered a whit had he spoken, of course. But Emma wished, vaguely, that he’d tried. But sometimes when Kinfolk tried to take a stand, especially if it disagreed with a werewolf, particularly one they were close to…

“Will’s probably hiding, August,” Emma said, admitting what she’d begun to suspect days ago, as soon as he’d sent word. “I don’t think he did it intentionally – he’s not that stupid and he’s not cruel – but he probably lost control of the wolf. If Liz cursed him out or got tired of his bullshit antics or even breathed funny and he took it the wrong way, and couldn’t control himself…” August had sagged on his seat, his elbows on his knees, but at Emma’s suggestion he straightened and shook his head, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline at the implied accusation.

“He wouldn’t. He can be an idiot, and impetuous, but he wouldn’t,” he said firmly.

“All it takes is one moment of weakness. You’re the one who taught me how important control was, and how quickly you can lose it. I’m sure he feels terrible about it, but I saw the pictures. If it wasn’t Will, then some other werewolf killed Liz.”

August didn’t argue the point; he knew it to be true as well as she did. They sat in silence on the docks, only the soft sound of the tide coming in, raising the slow-moving river by inches surrounding them. With the light reflecting on the soft waves and the cries of the gulls overhead, it might have been peaceful. In another time, but in this very same place, she’d spent many peaceful hours in August’s company, and with Cleo, Lily, Will, Jefferson and the handful of other tough, tradition-flouting werewolves and Kinfolk who preferred to live here surrounded by humanity. They’d found her and taught her the ways of the world when the bitter feuds among political rivals had left her a veritable orphan. It would be sweet to pretend that nothing had changed and she still belonged here, but then she’d been “rescued” from the hardscrabble city life and whisked off to a fairy tale existence as freaking fantasy-creature royalty. But Cleo was dead, Lily gone, and whatever August might say, this place was no longer her home. Emma abruptly pushed up from her crouch and walked back along the dock to the park with purpose, her eyes adjusting swiftly to the growing dark.

“Either way, I’m going to find out. Don’t wait up."

The old cobblestone streets of Portland could be treacherous even for a cautious driver – dimly lit and thick with pedestrians – but Emma took the Bug across the bay into the city nonetheless. To let the car stay hidden for too long was risky in general, so she’d coaxed it into dropping the camouflage, instead only keeping the usual distraction magic in place to keep anyone from looking too closely at the car’s registration, or lack thereof. She avoided the Old Port area where tourists thronged easily enough, skirting the west side of the city only to turn for the northern part of the peninsula where Will lived in Bayside.

Here the city mixed historical buildings with industrial warehouses, and though no housing could be considered cheap in Portland, not any longer, it was at least cheaper than anywhere else in the city proper. Whether it would remain that way for long was doubtful, however. Will lived equally quite close to both the city’s homeless shelter and the Whole Foods grocery store, and new apartment buildings sprung up every month alongside multi-million dollar renovations of old buildings. Emma’s mouth twisted with distaste at every visible change she catalogued as she pulled the Bug to a stop along a sidestreet curb. Will’s apartment was on the third floor of an aging multi-family dwelling. The first floor housed the elderly Kinfolk gentleman who owned the building, while on the second floor lived a family of city wolves and their Kin. She could check in on old Percy at least, before she went up to Will’s place. He might have a sense for where Will would be laying low. She mounted the porch steps lightly, ready to pull open the door to the building’s shared common stair, when she glanced up briefly and fell perfectly still.

The third floor window was softly illuminated from within. A human wouldn’t have seen it, or at least dismissed it as a trick of their eyes and the ambient light from streetlamps. But Emma could see the light move through the window above, concentrated and small, like a flashlight. Emma’s eyes narrowed as she considered the possibilities. Any of the building’s other inhabitants would turn on the light – they had no need to hide. If it was the cops, they’d have lit up the building like a Christmas tree at the very least, and parked cruisers all along the street. And if it was Will himself he would hardly need or risk a flashlight. That meant that while the obvious suspects were unlikely to be up there, someone taking pains not to be seen was in a missing wolf’s apartment. Steadily, her step light and cautious on the old creaky stairs, Emma crept up the first flight next to Percy’s apartment door, listening carefully.

There was the soft hum of a radio from Percy’s apartment, and that of conversation and laughter from the second floor, but beyond that Emma couldn’t make out any particular noises from above. She passed the second floor landing and continued to the third, testing each step carefully and taking her time. The apartment door was slightly ajar, and she could see the faintest glow of light and soft movement, of someone walking carefully over the creaky floorboards. As she reached the third floor landing, Emma pulled in a breath slowly, weighing her options, and then bent to pull a slender knife from her boot. She might rue the idea of Mulan bringing her sword to the city, or Merida striding down the street with her bow, but she wasn’t entirely averse to being armed. Straightening, she gently nudged the door open, pressing it with a fingertip, and thanking whatever spirit of the night or silence was looking out for her that the door swung freely and without a sound.

Will’s apartment was a single room with a high ceiling, and in the late summer heat the air was stiflingly thick and warm. A running ceiling fan squeaked rhythmically, spinning in a feeble in an attempt to keep the air moving, but it accomplished very little besides covering the sound of Emma stepping into the room, her gaze fixed on the black-clad figure shouldering a satchel with its back to her as it held some kind of light over the room’s unmade bed. She inhaled delicately in the space of a heartbeat, scenting the room’s occupant – a man and wolf-blooded, but not a werewolf. Whoever he was, he was definitely Kinfolk, but not someone she knew, and that was all she had time to decide before action was required. He paused in his apparent search, and started to turn. The room was four strides across for an average human. The muscles in Emma’s legs burned as she leapt across the room in a bound, setting her shoulder into the figure’s back and pressing him down onto the bed. The figure crumpled with a grunt, the bed’s springs screeching in complaint, and Emma swiftly brought her knife to his throat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. A breathless wheeze was her only immediate answer as his gloved right hand convulsed on the source of the light he’d been carrying. Emma’s eyes widened and she pressed the knife more firmly against her captive’s throat.

“Drop. It.” The light source dropped to the sheets with a soft noise, and the room was plunged into full darkness. Emma swiftly moved her free hand from his back to the piece of carved wood he’d carried, picking it up and jamming it into her boot. Only then did she ease her weight from the man’s back a trifle, and he drew in a rough, gasping breath before answering her, voice muffled into the rumpled bedclothes.

“Could ask you the same question, love.” His voice was accented, but despite the playful words, he didn’t move, remaining absolutely still. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers in his dark hair and steadily pulled his head back, free of the bed. He hissed in pain, and she carefully scraped the edge of the knife a fraction higher against his neck.

“You were saying?”

“I said, ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in a wretched place like this?’” Though the skin of his neck slightly indented from the blade’s pressure, his tone was somehow light. Emma used her handful of his hair as leverage, turning his head to the side so that she could get a look at him and in the relative privacy of the pitch blackness, she took a moment to take in his features. Dark stubble, good cheekbones, and thick lashes that fluttered prettily when he blinked. Not at all bad to look at. When his blue eye met her own unerringly even in the darkness, however, she froze and sniffed again, carefully, to confirm her original suspicion. His scent carried the edge of wolf-blood, but not the specific, powerful scent of a fellow werewolf. There were ways for werewolves to hide their scent, but even that trick had a price – he wouldn’t smell of anything at all if that was the case. But he smelled very much like a man, and like a Kinfolk, and no werewolf could pretend otherwise. At least not that shew knew of. Her grip tightened a fraction, and he grunted in pain.

“I do apologize if my scent offends, my morning ablutions were so long ago now,” he ground out, teeth flashing in a sharp grin.

“Is this really that funny to you, wise guy? Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she tried again.

“If you let me up, I’ll answer any question you like, but this is rather uncomfortable for us both, don’t you think?” He shifted, trying to get his feet beneath him, most likely. Emma sighed and let the entirety of her weight settle on his back for a moment, leaning close his ear as he wheezed once again.

“Stand up, both hands where I can see them, and keep it slow.” With that, she slipped to her feet and took half a step back, yaning the satchel from the man’s shoulder as she went and dropping it to the floor. With a groan, the man rolled to his side, pressing his right hand against his ribs with a wince. She stepped back away, giving herself room to maneuver.

“Just the one,” he ground out, using an elbow pressed to the bed to lever himself slowly to his feet, keeping his arms raised slightly afterward. In the dark, his smile was pained, but still disarmingly charming.

“What are you talking about?” Emma snapped, unamused. “One what?”

“Hand, darling.” The fingers of his right waved in her direction, but the left was still and lifeless. It tickled a memory, but then it was gone and she frowned, shaking her head.

“Oooo-kay, that’s just fascinating. Let’s try this again. I’m going to ask you one more time who you are and what you’re doing here, and if you don’t start answering instead of flirting pronto I’m going to lower your total number of hands further one finger at a time.” The smile on his face faltered.

“Brandon Smith. I’m doing the same thing you are, I presume – looking for Will Scarlet, but as you see, he’s not at home,” he snapped, an edge of sullen impatience to his voice.

“What’s the spirit for?” He smiled again, tilting his head.

“Why, the flask in my pocket is for my own consumption, but I’d gladly share-“ Emma growled over his lilting invitation, a rumbling, thunder-like sound that couldn’t have come from a human’s throat. His smile returned, though it was more a baring of teeth than anything.

“I don’t have your nose, darling. The carving hosts a dog spirit who can sniff and track. But you know Will’s not been here for a week or more.” She lifted her chin slightly, but he wasn’t wrong.

“And your name?”

“I told you-“

“Bullshit,” she cut him off sharply, raising the point of her knife to point directly at his face. “I know a lie when I hear one. You can deflect and dance around a topic, but when you lie to me I damn well know. Tell. Me. Your. Name.” He let out a breath through his nose, somehow still unerringly able to meet her eyes in the dark. He couldn’t possibly see her face, and yet…

“My name is Killian Jones. I am, as I’m sure you know, Kinfolk.” Truth. The first plain statement he’d made this whole time, and it was the truth. But he wasn’t done.

“You probably know me by another name, though,” he continued. Still the truth. She made a soft noise of inquiry, lifting an eyebrow, the knife blade unwavering.

“Hook. The wolves, they call me Hook.” The room fell silent, save for the steady squeaking of the overhead fan. The urge to take the wolf form swept over her like a cold wave and she inhaled sharply, his scent prickling with uncertainty despite his steady expression. The blade point wavered as she gripped it so hard her hand trembled as she fought down the howling need to have fur and teeth and claws. Hook. She’d heard stories, of course. Werewolves were nothing if not tale-tellers, particularly when it came to their enemies. Their traitors. In some he had chosen to become a vampire, in others inviting his possession by a spirit of vengeance. But in all of them, he was Kinfolk – blood of the wolf who had betrayed his own people. Murderer. Hunter. He watched her – though he couldn’t be in this lighting, not really – almost expectantly.

“It’s just there,” he said finally, breaking the silence. His arms remained slightly raised and still. “In my bag.” Without lowering her blade, Emma crouched, slowly reaching her left hand into the satchel. Her fingers brushed over the few items inside, until they settled around the one she was looking for. Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal shape and pulled it free, hissing softly under her breath. It prickled at her fingers sharply, alternating between freezing numb cold and needle-sharp pain as she held it up. The wickedly curved hook seemed to glow in the dark of the room, the enchanted silver casting its own light. They both stared at it for a long moment before she looked away, back at the man who seemed to be waiting on her, his arms slowly dropping to a defensive position in front of his body.

She was leaping for him with a snarl, body contorting and sprouting thick silver fur, before either hook or knife had hit the ground.

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #ouat #cssns #my fic

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