#Wolf among us
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tandoggydog · 1 year ago
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I can’t stick to one fixation for the life of me
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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months ago
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Bigby also deserves to have his dick sucked until he's a whimpering mess.
-in which he can fuck me into a whimpering mess
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defectivevillain · 8 months ago
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rest for the weary
pairing: Bigby Wolf/Reader
reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors used.
summary: There is silence for far too long. You’re intently focused on wiping his skin clean of the dried bloodstains, making sweeping gestures with infinite care. Bigby wants to reassure you that you don’t have to be so careful, that he’s used to cruelty and maleficent gazes and bloodied knuckles. But the words feel caught in his throat. This compassion is so foreign to him; he can’t help but instinctively wonder if there’s something you’re getting out of this.
word count: 2.3k | ao3 version
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warnings: canon-typical blood and violence, exhaustion/fatigue
After his long patrol, Bigby wants nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up. He manages to get to his apartment, albeit with a bit more clumsiness and lethargy than usual. When he finally opens the door, he’s greeted with Colin’s irritated expression. The annoyed look on his face fades when he evidently gets a full glimpse of Bigby’s injuries. The wolf knows he must look horrible; he doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know there are dark circles under his eyes and dried bloodstains on his clothes. 
“You look like shit,” Colin remarks helpfully. 
“Thanks.” Bigby responds tiredly, limping towards his armchair. Colin is merciful today, and doesn’t even utter a word of argument as he gives up the seat and moves to sit on the floor. Bigby sinks into the armchair and just barely holds back a pained hiss. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, still reeling from the events that occurred on his patrol today. His adrenaline carried him through multiple fights, and it isn’t until quiet moments like these that the gravity of what he’s been through dawns on him. 
Bigby’s eyes are slipping closed when he hears a harsh knock on his door. He groans and shuts his eyes again, wincing at the pain concentrated in his temple that is gradually migrating to his jaw. A nasty headache on top of his injuries—somehow, that tracks. Bigby waits to hear the sound of footsteps gradually growing further away. 
Instead, there’s another knock—even louder than the previous one. Bigby groans again and Colin raises an eyebrow, as if to ask if he’s going to answer the door. 
“Bigby.” The wolf’s heart skips a beat as he recognizes your voice. You live in the apartment below his: 104. You’re one of the only people who is nice to him, aside from Snow and Beauty. You never seemed to be afraid of him, which was refreshing. Selfishly speaking, Bigby doesn’t want you to see him in this state—doesn’t want you to start thinking of him as the Big Bad Wolf. You continue, immune to his internal dilemma. “I know you’re in there. Open up.” You say insistently. 
Bigby doesn’t make a move to get up. He doesn’t think he can get to his feet and walk over to the door, even if he wanted to. Exhaustion is settling in his bones and he is close to drifting off into unconsciousness once he realizes that the knocking has stopped. 
Suddenly, there’s a loud crash. Bigby is mercilessly tugged back from the throes of sleep as his front door swings open and crashes into the adjacent wall. He blinks slowly and pushes himself up in the chair, glancing at the front door to find you stumbling forward with uneasy balance. The two of you exchange looks and Bigby sees a flicker of regret and guilt appear on your face, before the emotions are replaced with a mischievous grin. 
“That was fun,” you remark with a look of surprise. Then you glance around the room, murmuring a quick greeting to Colin, before looking back at him once more. The wolf stares at you in disbelief. “I can see why you do it so often.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Bigby asks, once he manages to process everything that just happened. He’s usually the one kicking doors down—he’s never been on the other side of the situation before. Bigby can’t say he likes it much. 
“Checking in on you, obviously,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest. Bigby realizes that this is the first time you’ve been in his apartment; typically, he visits you at yours or the two of you meet in the lobby. He’s mildly embarrassed by the dirty clothes and empty bottles laying around. The pain makes it easy to forget any potential humiliation, though. “I can see I was right to be worried.” You say as you study him, your lips pressed in a thin line. 
“How did you-” Bigby chokes out. 
“You were a bit louder than normal,” you respond easily. You’re looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze, as if you’re able to see straight through him. Bigby feels strangely exposed. “And your footsteps were… uneven.”
That’s it? Bigby thinks to himself. While he doesn’t utter the question, the sentiment must be clear on his face. 
“I just knew something was wrong, okay?” You say defensively. You take a step forward and look him up and down, evidently concerned for his wellbeing. Bigby wants to remark that he’s suffered worse, but he knows that wouldn’t reassure you.
“Well, I’m fine,” Bigby remembers to say moments later. It’s getting a bit hard to breathe around his bruised ribs and he has to put conscious effort towards inhaling slowly.  
You don’t seem to believe him for a moment. “You sound like a broken record,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Come on.” You act as if you own the place, pacing past the entryway and moving towards the bathroom. Bigby watches you for several moments, before giving in with a sigh and pushing himself off the armchair. Every small movement sends pain shooting through him. He takes an uneasy step forward and stumbles, but Colin wordlessly pushes against his left leg and corrects his balance before he can fall. Bigby murmurs a word of thanks and heads to the bathroom. 
When he finally makes it to his far too-small bathroom, you’re waiting for him. You gesture for him to sit on the toilet seat, which he does after a moment of hesitation. You have a damp cloth in hand and, once he sits, you’re washing the blood and dirt from his face with a gentle touch. Bigby flinches at how cold the water is, and you murmur a quick apology before continuing. 
There is silence for far too long. You’re intently focused on his skin beneath the cloth, making sweeping gestures with infinite care. Bigby wants to reassure you that you don’t have to be so careful, that he’s used to cruelty and maleficent gazes and bloodied knuckles. But the words feel caught in his throat. This compassion is so foreign to him; he can’t help but instinctively wonder if there’s something you’re getting out of this. 
Eventually, you finish with his face and begin cleaning his forearms. You push up his sleeves, wiping away the blood before staring at him with an unreadable expression. When you break the silence, Bigby notices that you’re suddenly averting your gaze. “You may need to… take off your shirt.”
Bigby stares at you for a moment, before comprehending the question. “Right,” he mutters, moving to unbutton his shirt with trembling hands. You don’t comment on how long the effort takes him, but Bigby does hear the stifled intake of breath that escapes your lips as your eyes rove up and down his torso. He looks down, finding the gaping wound at his side that you can’t seem to look away from. 
You almost look sick to your stomach. But Bigby knows it can’t be from the grotesque nature of his wound—he knows you’ve seen your fair share of blood and violence. You live in the Fables, after all. Violence is an everyday occurrence. The wolf watches as you take a slow breath, as if to steady yourself, before grabbing the cloth and bending down to dab at the wound. Your equilibrium seems to be off, as you lurch forward with the movement. Bigby steadies you with a hand on your shoulder and you place your free hand on his side to steady yourself. He promptly ignores the heat that spreads across his skin at the casual touch. 
A seemingly endless time later, you lean back and Bigby can breathe again. You assess his wound once more, eyebrows furrowing. “Do you have bandages?” Bigby shakes his head imperceptibly. You seem to be expecting that answer, as you sigh exasperatedly. “I’ll be right back.”
In the blink of an eye, you’re standing in front of him once more—holding a nondescript tube of ointment and a roll of bandages. At his questioning look, you explain that the ointment will prevent infection; you then apply a small amount on his wound, before placing the bandage on his skin and slowly wrapping it around his chest. Bigby remains silent the entire time, at a loss for words. Admittedly, this feels like a dream. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke in a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling from his armchair in his bloodstained clothes. 
But this is no dream. Your touch is all too real. Bigby feels as if his skin is doused in flames. Time seems to drag on with unrushed lethargy, trapping him in this horrible, incredible feeling. You step away too soon and too late. 
“Sorry, I’m afraid that’s the best I can do,” you say with a frown. Bigby looks down at the bandage. His gaze returns to you. This is more than anyone has ever done for him. He has never been treated so delicately before. The warmth of your skin still lingers and Bigby thinks he wants it back. Your eyes are bright in the dim lighting of his bathroom and the realization comes crashing down on him. He thinks he wouldn’t mind if every day were to go like this, if he could return home to you every day. Indulgently, selfishly, he wants to drown in this very moment. 
Bigby doesn’t know how it happens. One moment, you’re breathing a question he never imagined he would hear—not even in his wildest dreams. The next, he’s tugging you closer by the collar and kissing you. You lurch forward and place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. Bigby pulls you impossibly closer, relishing in the surprised sound that wrenches its way out of your throat. Your fingers run through his hair and goosebumps prickle along his forearms. 
“I’m still here,” Colin announces from the living room. The moment is immediately broken, and Bigby regretfully lets his hands fall from your face. Your hands slip from the nape of his neck and the wolf feels a shiver roll down his spine. You’re staring at him again.
“I should get you some clothes,” you then announce, stepping out of the bathroom. He hears you pacing around the apartment until you find his closet; you return moments later with a shirt and sweatpants in hand. Admittedly, Bigby hasn’t worn that pair of sweatpants in years—he forgot he owned them. You then close the door and leave him to change. The effort isn’t painless, but within a few minutes, he’s in infinitely more comfortable clothing. Bigby gets to his feet and opens the door, walking out to the living room. 
You look over from where you’d been speaking to Colin. “Now you should rest,” you order, walking towards him. “Let me get you to bed.” You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and start looking around the space. 
A maelstrom of unsavory emotions hits him all at once. “I don’t have a bed.” Bigby blurts out within moments. Your gaze snaps to him and your eyes are blown wide. 
“What?” You exclaim. “You don’t have a bed?” You then look to Colin for assistance, as if waiting for him to disagree. Colin makes a gesture similar to a shrug. Bigby tries to explain that he simply never needed one, but he fears it’s too late—your eyes are already gleaming with resolve. “Then you’re coming downstairs with me.” You assert, taking a few steps towards the front door before turning back around. “It was nice talking to you, Colin.” You say with a small smile. 
“See you,” Colin murmurs, sending Bigby an unreadable look when you turn your back. Bigby just shrugs and follows after you, knowing there’s no point in arguing. This is not a debate he would win and, frankly, he’s too tired to refuse the offer of a soft mattress. The wolf closes his apartment door and heads down the hallway after you. Now that his adrenaline has died down, he feels his exhaustion setting in. When the two of you make it to the elevator, Bigby grasps at the railings and closes his eyes. 
“Almost there,” you say, breaking him from his thoughts. Somehow, the elevator is on the first floor already. The wolf takes a deep breath and manages to summon enough energy to make it to your door. You unlock it quickly and push it open. From there, you guide him to your bed. Bigby doesn’t have the awareness to think anything of sleeping in your bed at the present moment, but he’s sure it’ll dominate his thoughts in the morning. 
He reclines in your bed and is abruptly thrown back into the past, into a different bed in a cabin in the woods and a different identity— 
“Rest,” you remark, breaking him out of his thoughts. You step back and, for a fraction of a moment, Bigby thinks you’re leaving. But you simply walk around to the other side of the bed and turn on the small deskside lamp, grabbing a book from the nightstand. “I’ll be here.”
The knowledge that you’re watching over him makes him feel… cared for; valued; appreciated; and seen for who he truly is. Bigby takes a shuddering breath, pretending his heart isn’t racing out of his chest. He feels incredibly vulnerable. His throat is burning with unshed tears. A small part of him still fundamentally distrusts your kindness, no matter how much of it you have shown him. That small part of him beckons him back to the shadows, proclaiming that no one will ever love him, that he isn’t worth loving.  As if sensing his spiraling thoughts, you reach out and clasp his hand. “It’s alright.” You speak with such certainty that Bigby finds himself instantaneously relaxing, his shoulders loosening as he practically sinks into the mattress. For the first time, he wholeheartedly believes that maybe, just maybe, everything will actually be alright.
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[obligatory bigby wolf playlist]
thanks for reading! <3
check out my other works, sorted by fandom.
general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian
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coffinwoodx · 7 months ago
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WOLF AMONG US 2
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WOLF AMONG US 2
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kukzoa · 3 months ago
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protagonists of the games i played this summer 2024 (who can guess them all w/o looking at hashtags deserves a cookie)
shoutout to my mom, ty for building a ✨g a m i n g p c✨ for me to play those EPIC GREAT GAMES, you are the real one
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axllyaq · 4 months ago
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The big bad wolf and pretty snow white!!
Oh, how I love this game, pls don't let the game die, pls alive this fandom I need this, pls
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yellowsugarwords · 5 months ago
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ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ
⎆ the wolf among us
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ashanddoodles · 18 days ago
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"i thought we were all supposed to have a fresh start here. i can't change the past."
more bigby wolf inspired art, yippie. this time it's kinda angsty because i've been reading the comics and the poor dude can't catch a break :( it's even worse when you get to the volume that talks about his life as a wolf before snow turned him into a human. his brothers bullied him cause he was the runt and they leave him on his own when their mom dies.
anyways this doesn't really look like #twau art but i love using black and red to make things look a bit more contrasted and then messing around in a few editing apps to give the photos texture. hopefully y'all like it.
i normally don't go into so much details in captions anymore but i'm also currently trying to distract myself from the election and doomscrolling so you get this absolute yapfest as a result.
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dustiedoodles · 2 months ago
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I played the wolf among us, I loved it
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rosieaurora · 2 years ago
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B. WOLF PINING HEADCANONS
The sheriff of Fabletown was in love with you for the longest time without you suspecting a thing.
And if he had his way, you’d never know.
He was supposed to be your friend - it was wrong for him to feel this way.
Bigby could hide from his feelings with work and drink all he liked, but he couldn't deny that yours was the face he looked forward to seeing every day.
Or how many times he had put his hand on the seat next to yours during a taxi ride, hoping for just the slightest touch of your hand, or how he would smile just a little bit more easily when you were around.
He thinks he's done a good job hiding his feelings so far, but to everybody else, it’s obvious he’s softer with you.
You couldn’t tell the difference because he’s always been that way around you.
He’s very protective for just a “friend” but you thought he was like that with everyone close to him.
Which is true. But you dial his protectiveness up to an eleven.
He walks you home if you’ve stayed out unusually late to make sure you’re safe.
If you’ve got a date with someone else, he won’t stop you from going, but he will ask around to find out if they’re an asshole or not so he can warn you.
He knows he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he found out you were being treated poorly and he would rather you didn’t see that side of him.
When you look at him, you don’t see a monster and he doesn’t want to lose that.
He doesn’t want to lose you.
You make his life so much better just by being in it and that’s what makes it all the more difficult for him.
Bigby knew people judged you for being his friend. He also knew you didn't care - he finally got the message the hundredth time you insisted you didn't care what other people thought.
But he did.
You don’t deserve to be shunned by every other fable just so he can be selfish and keep you in his life.
Bigby can’t imagine you ever returning his feelings so whenever an “I love you” almost slips out of him, he would imagine the betrayal in your eyes if you knew your best friend was in love with you and the words die in his throat.
Bigby can take a lot of punishment, but rejection from you would completely shatter him.
But, if you could learn to love the big bad wolf, maybe he could allow himself to dream a little.
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loganyeehawhowlett · 10 months ago
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Spare news Taletell spare news
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crybabycinna · 9 months ago
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Hi my name is Lucille and I just wanted to say I want Bigby Wolf to break my back like a glow stick. I want him to split me in two. I love him he’s best boy, BRING HIM BACK NOW! I want wolf among us season 2! AHHHHH
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lissiamsn · 11 months ago
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"I'm sorry" [Comfort her]
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kei-s-krude-kontraptions · 11 months ago
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Miscellaneous midnight doodles,,,
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meicoflups · 24 days ago
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Bigby and Snow White would work because they're both smoking hot. Hot people just work. There would be no divorces if everyone was hot. There are literally not examples to prove me otherwise.
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oceisastar · 2 years ago
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MDNI
oh my GOD I need to fuck bigby wolf
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