#did you forget the werewolf suit

[gaylittleguys]

the werewolf design in cursed rules but the movie is kind of a slog ugh

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 17

Welcome to the beginning of the end, for the next four weeks I will be putting out the last chapters of this story. It's done. And I am sorry to see it go. I really loved writing this story even if it kept changing on me and evolving into what it is today.

In this chapter we have Jason being sneaky, Wayne and a new werewolf in town.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

~

Eddie and Steve were having a quiet walk about town, holding hands and talking softly to each other sweet things.

Or that’s how it looked on the outside.

They were actually on the hunt. Wayne had been teaching Eddie how to hunt like vampire the last two years, and Steve was learning how to hunt as a werewolf and not just as a man in a wolf suit from Nancy.

What were they hunting? The manticore. Steve’s stronger sense of smell would help them track the beast down, while Eddie’s extensive knowledge of its habits and haunts would narrow down where to look.

People often assumed that Eddie was bad at facts and dates but he wasn’t. He was actually pretty good at them, his problem in school was not doing the homework. He would ace every test, he’d just forget to turn in his assignments.

Hell, his first senior year got one of the Hellfire Club members mad at him because he scored in the top ten percent of the nation on a portion of the SAT. She was averaging an A- average in the class they shared together and thought that that meant she should have gotten in the top ten percent of nation instead of him. To say that things soured between them after that was an understatement.

All this to say that Eddie was smart. Smarter than people gave him credit for and not just how he figured out the meaning behind Patrick’s attack. He knew people. Differently then the way Steve knew people, but still he was clever and quick witted.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and jutted his chin across the street. “Isn’t that Jason Carver?”

Steve looked where he was indicating and frowned. “I thought your uncle said he was sick. What’s he doing in town?”

“Uncle Wayne’s been saying that Jason is becoming more and more withdrawn since Patrick was attacked,” Eddie explained. “He thinks he might have recommend Jason be brought to the full extent of the law, which is something Uncle Wayne really isn’t looking forward to.”

“But we’re trying to find Patrick’s attacker!” Steve protested. “I thought he would be happier that we’re trying to get justice for his friend.”

Eddie frowned, the crease between his eyebrows deepened. “I think his hatred of werewolves and vampires goes deeper than his sense of justice for his friend.”

Steve shook his head. That just couldn’t be true. He knew Jason from basketball. You wouldn’t be able to find a boy more loyal to his friends than Jason Carver. But he raised his head and looked Eddie in the eye and knew. Jason had only showed him his good qualities because they were equals.

Eddie had seen the worst of the other boy. The sneering viciousness beneath the veneer of civility that he showed to those he thought lesser than him.

“We need to find the manticore before he breaks his masters bonds,” Steve whispered. “I’m more concerned what an unbound creature like that could do to this town, over someone like Jason.”

Eddie watched Jason for a moment more. The other teen did not seem to be up to anything nefarious, other than lying to Uncle Wayne, so he nodded.

But the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the hairs on his arm stood up on end. There was a predator here. He looked around him.

“Babe?” Steve asked, reaching out to touch his elbow. “What wrong?”

“What do you smell just now?” he asked, searching the shadows.

Steve stilled. He scented the air. The wind was changing, but there!

“It’s a sharp metal tang in the air,” he murmured. “Like the scent of dried blood. It’s acrid.” He wrinkled his nose. “Foul.”

Eddie nodded. “That’s what I scented too, but now it’s gone. Whatever it was, though. It was not the manticore.”

Steve shook off a shiver that slid down his spine. “It was werewolf. But not one in my pack.”

“Banished you think?” Eddie asked as the wind shifted to carry the scent away from them. He could still feel the uneasy feeling down the pads of his feet. Whoever was out there was dangerous.

Steve tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do today. The rogue werewolf would have sent the manticore aground.”

Eddie nodded, the cat sìth was probably hiding the manticore’s scent anyway. “We need to talk to Wayne.”

~

Wayne listened intently to their report, soaking in everything they told him. He sat back and thought through it all.

“I think I know who the Banished you smelled in town is,” he said quietly. He handed Eddie the file he’d gotten from Sam and waited.

“Dr. Alexei Oborin,” Eddie read aloud. “That’s Nancy’s werewolf, right? The one she was sure caused a stir when she was little.”

Steve frowned. “She hasn’t told me anything about that.”

Wayne nodded like he wasn’t surprised. “She was waiting to see what that file contained. But I’m leaving it up to you if you want to share it with her. It’s has some pretty gruesome stuff.”

Steve nodded absently as he read over Eddie’s shoulder, the other man waiting until he was done before turning to the next page. No matter how much longer it took Steve than Eddie.

“The name of his bondmate is blacked out,” he said with that little frown of his that made Eddie want to bite him between the eyebrows for being too cute. “Do we know why?”

Wayne shook his head. “I’ve already pressed my source pretty hard to get the file. He could get fired if he doesn’t return it in a week.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, but wisely said nothing.

“They were teenagers who were camping out in the woods near the pack compound,” Steve read. He frowned. “That’s strange.”

Eddie and Wayne’s heads snapped his direction.

“Look at the location of the two girls bodies...” he pulled out the photo in file and turned it to face Wayne.

Wayne looked at the picture and then back up at him. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, if I’m honest here, Steve.”

“It’s something I learned recently from Nancy,” he replied. “I don’t fight like a wolf in wolf form. I don’t go for the jugular for example because I know as human how easy it is for a human to throw up their arms to protect that area of the body. I knock them over first and press my weight on their chest to make it harder for them to do just that.”

Eddie frowned, but Wayne looked back down at the photo.

“Shit!”

The arms and upper torso were torn to shreds, the way you would expect from a wolf attack, but the bodies themselves were arranged to make it look it was the work of a crazed werewolf. Like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Someone moved the bodies?” Eddie reasoned. “But why would Alexei do that if he thought the kids were hunters? There would be no reason to. It was supposedly self-defense.”

“Unless it wasn’t,” Wayne said, continuing his nephew’s thought. “What if the bondmate came and rearranged the bodies to plead insanity on Alexei’s behalf?”

Steve nodded. “And then when that didn’t work, they claimed that the kids were hunters.”

Wayne rubbed at the stubble on his chin wishing, not for the first time, that he had been changed with a clean shaven face.

“That make sense.”

Eddie closed the file and looked on the front of the folder. “VHS? Video Home System?” He tilted his head to the side.

Wayne snorted, then giggled. Suddenly the stoic vampire was laughing so hard, tears of blood rolled down his cheeks. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears.

“No, no,” he said around his feral grin. “It stands for The Van Helsing Society. But, dear god, I am going to use that on that bastard the next time I saw him.”

“As in Abraham Van Helsing?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “From Dracula?” He scooted forward to the edge of his seat.

Wayne nodded, still grinning. “The first name was changed but Van Helsing was a real person. Karl Van Helsing was the first to come up with the first policing body for supernatural beings. After the incident in London, it was pretty clear that people were going to start noticing that supernatural beings existed and he came up with The Van Helsing Society.”

“Pretty arrogant of him to name it after himself,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes.

Eddie scoffed, throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “Says the alpha of the Harrington pack.” Then he shook his head and muttered. “It had to be fucking cops.”

Steve just shrugged. “I never said that was also arrogant. I never understood why it wasn’t called the Hawkins Pack or Roane Pack considering being alpha isn’t hereditary.”

Wayne smiled at Steve. He had always liked him since he was a young boy learning that his parents had died. But he was really starting to like the man that boy had become, too. Because it was ridiculous that the pack hadn’t been named after the town or county it resided in.

“They are far more than just cops, Ed,” he warned. “They are a powerful group with abilities all their own. Crossing one of the Society isn’t the same as crossing a mortal or even supernatural cop, like Hopper. They are protected against possession, hypnotism, and even enthrallment.”

“Are they all descendants of the original dude?” Steve asked, pressing even closer to Eddie on the sofa. He didn’t like the sound of these supernatural cops either. Because where were they when he was being abused by the Franklins. He couldn’t even remember the night he first changed. He only remembered when he came to and he and Wayne were burying their bodies. He was just so grateful that the abuse was over that he really didn’t think of why.

But Wayne was shaking his head. “According to the records the last Van Helsing died during the oiliphéist riots of 1922 in Ireland.”

“That’s too bad,” Eddie said, cocking his head to the side. “As anti-vampire as the name has become a symbol of these days, I would still have liked to have met one of his descendants.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve had the pleasure only once. Greta Van Helsing in 1871. She was a spitfire to say the least.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck her...” he moaned.

“Not on your life,” Wayne huffed. “Even if she was immune to the whole agents and supes producing unhinged offspring, she was a lesbian and won’t have even spared me a glance.”

“Unhinged as in cool super powers, unhinged?” Eddie asked, lowering his hands from his face. “Or mental asylum unhinged?”

“Sadly the latter,” Wayne said mournfully. “The magic that they use to protect themselves from being controlled does nasty things to the natural magics supernatural beings are made of.”

“But Van Helsings were immune?” Steve asked, still pressed to Eddie’s side.

Wayne nodded. “Probably because like most things in nature needing a balance, the Van Helsings were naturally the balance to the supernatural creatures of the world. There are probably other families just like them, but Van Helsings are merely the most notable.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie said, taking Steve’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He could tell this talk of the Van Helsings was making him upset.

“In other news,” he said, “The Hughes, the Hollands, the Martins, and the Camerons are all willing to send in guards for Steve.”

“I wasn’t aware the Camerons were supernatural,” Wayne said rubbing his chin. “What are they?”

“Louie Cameron is a selkie, and Debra Cameron is a siren,” he explained. “Making their daughter Vickie one hell of a strong supe.”

Steve sat there with this confused pout on his face. “Guards? Why would I need guards?”

“I don’t trust the Pack right now,” Wayne replied. “There is more going on in that pack then meets the eye and I can’t be everywhere. Especially with Jason causing trouble in town. Patrick tried to warn me early on that Jason would try something like this, but I wanted to believe that there was good in their somewhere.”

Steve’s expression shuttered to a blank mask. “What do I do?”

“Just start hanging out with me and the others outside of the compound,” Eddie said, squeezing Steve’s hand again and covering it with his other hand.

“Okay,” he breathed. They were right, as much as Nancy wanted him to further integrate into the Pack, he needed to be on the outside to see what was going on and understand it.

And he knew the best way to do it, but it was going to take a lot of convincing. But he was up for the job.

~

Notes:

oilipheists are sea monsters from Ireland.

Cameron is the last name I gave Vickie from season four.

And the SAT (a test to determine how well you've learned your lessons over the course of the year not the college one) thing happened to me. I was doing poorly in English because of the stupid correcting sentences for grammar and punctuation bullshit (there is a very good reason I use betas) but when the results came back I got top ten in the NATION for reading comprehension. My friend in the class who getting A's in that class was so mad it wasn't her that she legit stopped talking to me because she was that sure I cheated.

Tag List: FOURTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology

[christinesficrecs]

do you have any fic recs for season 3a? i’ve been rewatching and i really like the storyline 🥹

Well, Post-3B is my jam but try these ones. 🩷

Don’t Speak by fatale | 68.9K 

The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?

Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.

Thunderstorms & Polish Lullabies by Whispering_Samir | 10K

The one where Stiles time-travels just in time to save Boyd and Derek from the Alphas, and manages to heal everyone, including himself, just a little in the process.

There’s Monsters at Home by calrissian18 | 83,575

How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.

Derek despised him.

Forging Bonds by  mikkimouse | 27.5K

The loft was flooded, the water shimmering in the moonlight streaking through the huge windows. The twins held Derek on his knees, with his arms extended and claws out. Kali had Boyd, and she was dragging him toward Derek, and—

Stiles aimed at the twin closest to him and threw the Molotov cocktail as hard as he could.

Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by  butyoureyessaidyes | 125.2K

The one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn’t know he’s part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

The Nightmare of my Choice by mirrorkill | 106.2K | Mature

Rogue werewolves and incubi and ghosts, oh my!: Life in Beacon Hills continues to be the epitome of weird.

Especially for emissary-in-training Stiles, who's being literally haunted by a parade of Beacon Hills' deceased, who are trying to compel him to embrace the darkness in his heart. His only source of comfort is when he's writing to an emotionally constipated Beta werewolf. When Derek Hale is your anchor to sanity? Yeah, weird might be an underestimation.

Stiles is well suited to the path of an emissary; in fact, something important about him has already been overlooked. Something that could have deadly consequences both for him, and for everyone else...

Wanted by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 88K | Mature

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

In this Darkness (It's You I Hear) by Kedreeva | 9.9K | Mature

Deucalion bites Stiles on the way out of town, and Derek finds him in an unexpected condition....

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain | 22.3K

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

Where You Go To Rest Your Bones by allyasavedtheday | 6.4K

Derek feels him take a deep, shuddering breath and then Stiles disentangles himself – though he stays within the circle of Derek’s arms. “I missed you.” he whispers, looking at Derek like he’s expecting to be kicked out at any moment.

You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter | 234.1K

Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.

The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.

Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!

[redheadspark]

Could you do number 1 with Jack Russell from Werewolf By Night?

A/N - I love this, thanks for requesting this! Enjoy!

Tie

Summary - A simple gesture meant the world to Jack.

Warnings - Angst and fluff together

“Jack, your tie looks appalling,”

“What do you mean, Amor?” 

You chuckled as you gestured to the crooked tie he was attempting to fix, seeing his reflection through the mirror and how he was looking a bit flustered.  His hair was growing in a bit on the back of his neck, showing the salt and pepper that was creeping through in his brown locks and the stubble that he was growing in as well.  Some of the Knicks and scars from old jobs and close calls were seen on his skin, but your eyes were mostly on the poor attempt of using a tie.

“Here, let me see,” You hummed having Jack turn around to face you while you were starting to work on his tie.  He watched you with a raised brow, you adjusting in the right spots with nimble fingers, and with no hesitation you then smoothed out his shirt and tie with your fingers.

“Where did you learn how to tie a tie?” He asked, you giving him a questioning look as he threw up his hands in defense, “Merely wondering, my love,”

“My father,” You replied with a soft smile, “I watched him dress himself all the time for his job, and he helped my brother when he was applying for jobs and internships.  Thankfully, he never had to worry about that for me,”

“Ah,” Jack replied, though you rolled your eyes at him.

“Monster hunting does not include wearing formal attire,” You joked, then taking a few steps back to see your handiwork on Jack.  He laughed at the remark as you tilted your head in his direction, "There, now you look decent,”

“Hey!” He replied, you about to move away from him reaching out to you to pull you in his arms.  Yet he was still too fast, his arms going around you far too quickly to tuck you in close and kiss you softly.  You melted in his embrace, framing his face in your hands and kissing him back just as softly.  Having this small bubble of a moment with him was sacred, given you two were busy killing monsters around the world and trying not to get killed as well.  But you two made it work, and you pulled away to lightly slap him on the chest.

“We need to head to the dinner before my parents think we flaked!  Come on then,” You hummed, reaching up to wipe away the lipstick that was left behind on his chin.  Jack laughed, reaching for both of the coats in hand.

“I happen to like your father, and I would rather not be late…again,” He joked, making you snort in agreement.  

“You’ll never forget that, will you?” You asked him coyly as he held open the front door for you to go through. 

“Never,” He replied.

“Here, Jack.  I got you,” 

Seeing Jack looking worn down to the bone and on the verge of tears made you swiftly move over to him, adjusting his tie without needing to say another word.  His black suit made him look pale, as well as the dark circle under his eyes and the worn-down appearance along his skin and in his cheeks.  The last few hours were hell for him, for you both really, but mostly for him simply because the loss was brutal for him.

Death was always around the pair of you, given your job and what you had to do.  But that was with monsters and undeserving criminals, it was second nature to the pair of you since you’ve done it for so long.  But this was different, this was a family member who died of a sudden heart attack.

It was Jack’s father, who died young and left his son in the world.

You both got the call late in the night when you two were in Paris, both celebrating your anniversary together as a couple and finishing a massive job that you both took on together.  Jack was devastated to hear his sister on the other line, you rearranged your flights while he and his sister spoke on the phone and made sure your flights would get back in time for Jack to see his family and help arrange the funeral.  You met his dad some time ago when Jack wanted to properly introduce you to his family, you see where Jack got his charisma and heart of gold from.  You even thought of him as a surrogate father of sorts since your own father left you and your mother when you were a baby.  

It might have hurt you, but it was worse for Jack who lost his father.

The funeral was within 30 minutes, a small gathering that only consisted of family and a handful of his close friends since Jack’s father was more of an introvert than anything.  Jack pulled some money together to pay for the funeral and all of the expenses, not wanting to burden his mother and sister.  You also contributed some money from your own stash, thinking it was the best thing to do.  The rest of the family and the guests were already getting ready to sit down in the chapel as you finished helping Jack with his tie.  

He was so still like a corpse, he was a corpse in that moment as his eyes were cast down and his hands were clutched tight at his sides.  You watched him for a moment, feeling beyond terrible that you had no real way to fully take the pain away from him.  To bring back the kind and gentle Jack that you knew and fell in love with so long ago and yet it seemed like yesterday.  

With a crooked chin, you gently nudged his chin to have him look up at you.  You saw the pain in his bright eyes, and it made you softly smile at him to give him some sense of familiarity.

“I love you, Jack,” You voiced to him calmly, feeling him reach and cup your elbows in his hands as you spoke again, “We can make it through today, okay?  I’ll be right next to you the whole time,”

He sniffled and nodded his head, trying to not let any more tears fall as he finally found his voice for the first time since you two made it to the chapel, “Thank you for being my rock in this, Amor—“

“I’ll always be your rock, you never have to thank me,” You explained, Jack leaning in to kiss you passionately, you feel the emotion in his kiss and how he kept you close in his arms.  You would stand next to him throughout the service, hold his hand when you knew it was getting hard for him, and hold him close that night in your shared bed as he cried in your embrace.  

In the end, he would come out of the other side a bit stronger 

“Amor!  I need your help!”

“Are we not supposed to see each other beforehand?”

“Since when are we traditional in anything we do?”

“…fair.  Alright then,”

You walked over to the double doors that were closed, opening one door slightly to see Jack standing in front of you with his skinny tie in hand and a massive smile on his face.  You blushed as he eyed the white dress you were wearing, his eye going big for a slight moment while you took his tie from his hand.

“You’re heavenly,” he voiced in a breath as you started to get the tie ready around his neck, “Very radiant and nearly glowing,”

“I think that’s the courthouse lights that’s making me glow,”  You joked, though his shook his head immediately.  

“No, it’s your ever constant beauty,” he reasoned as you then swatted his chest.

“I already agreed to marry you, no need to woo me anymore,” You replied.  It was nice that this was light, given the last-minute choice for you two be get married in a courthouse instead of a massive wedding.  But the close felt right for you two to have it simply be the pair of you, the judge, and his small family as witnesses.  You had your best friend too, and it felt like more than enough as you both made the calls three days earlier.

He proposed to you a week prior, but you knew deep down that you both were destined to be together.  Marriage was never a major topic in your relationship, in fact, you two were fine with the notion of simply being together and not needing to be married to one another.  You never cared, just having Jack in your life was more than enough.  But Jack changed that late in the night as he slipped an engagement ring on your finger, very stealthy no doubt.  Although you were surprised, you still accepted it.

Now three days later, in a thrift shop dress you found and his infamous black suit, you two were going to be married.

“How is it, after being together for so long, you still wish for me to do your tie?” You asked as you got the collar smooth out and the right length on the tie, “You know how to tie your own tie by now, do you not?”

“I do,” He replied, you pausing as you stared at him in confusion while he reached up to cup your face in his hand, “I love it when you help me though, because I know you truly love me,”

You thought back to all the times you did his tie: Jack meeting your father for the first time, several formal dates that he wanted to take you out on, his father’s funeral, plenty of business dealings and meetings.  He never grumbled about you perfecting his tie and how he looked, and almost every single time he would watch you with love in his eyes.

Just like how, 20 minutes away from claiming you as his wife.

“I’ll always love you,” You replied.  And you did, you two sealing your fates in that courtroom a few minutes later and letting our new lives together be filled with joy.

The End.  

[streamdotpng]

Tongues & teeth reunion, where Wednesday sees the result of old werewolf teachings

-

"what happened, Enid?" just hearing Wednesday's voice has the once looming werewolf to slump closer, shoulders dropping and doing all but melt into the floor at the concern she can hear in that tone.

Enid smiles, all tight lips and bright happy eyes. God does she miss seeing Wednesday. All they've been doing is texting and Enid has been wanting for so long that she feared that she'd forget her voice.

"I got better!" is Enid's cheery reply. "the olden time werewolves are so weird, Nes but I learned during the winter and now here I am!" I'm better now, so much better- is left unsaid.

Wednesday stares and Enid can see the way her jaw tenses. She's contemplating, Enid gasps in her head and she's so tempted to grasp at that chin and ma-

"you're different," Wednesday cuts in, her arms crossing as she stares up. "What did they do to you?"

Enid is lost, her head tilting to the side as she wonders where Wednesday is getting at. She stares down at her jacket, a dark blue almost black color.

She's starting to worry a little. She didn't look that different right? She's wearing the uniform! And a jacket sure but it was just there for aesthetic purposes! It's just january after all, what if Wednesday is cold? Better to be safe than sorry yknow.

"I learned," Enid starts, her smile dropping to one a little bit more worried. "Is it the jacket? I thought you don't like color?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes and Enid gulps, straightening up immedietely as she stares back. A blink back is her answer and the shorter roommate looks away.

It should make Enid feel proud, to push off such posturing but it makes a part of her shudder in disgust at such easy forfeiting.

(where was the fire? The fight-)

Has she been coming wrong? Maybe it's her actions, werewolves have a whole different way of moving after all and Wednesday...

She's special, but she wouldn't understand.

"Mortals are different, Enid," Romulus says, his hand tight around her nape. "they don't know any better, so we have to teach them at times."

"I abhor color," Wednesday agrees. "but it suits you." a sigh. "do not alter yourself for me."

Too late, a part of her cackles. I'll become anything you need, Dear. Your sword, your shield, the hound to hunt and take whoever you wish-

Enid turns red, eyes widening and she steps up. It doesn't take long for her to shrug off the jacket and wrap it around Wednesday instead.

There's a flutter in her stomach and a rush of heartbeat against her ears. Is it hers? Wednesday's? She doesn't know.

A laugh comes from Enid's lips. The jacket hangs off Wednesday, way too big to properly fit the girl and it makes something akin to delight spark inside her chest.

Enid's hands lay near the hood, fiddling with the fabric as she speaks.

"it's for you anyways, " the werewolf's head is ducked and she knows of the symbolisms. Her neck chills at the lack of protection, open for any threat.

It's a sign.

Wednesday doesn't say a thing but Enid can hear the beatbeatbeat of her mortal's heart.

It makes Enid smiles, all teeth and delighted.

[dufferpuffer]

Got any lupin appearance hcs?

David Thewlis does such a good job at portraying most of who Remus is to me. But David is not Remus. He is David. It is very unfortunate, I know. If he WAS Remus then Remus would be real. For one thing he is too tall. For another - no grey hairs? Get older, dweeb. But he is the 'vibe'. He is the general framework. Did you want more HC than that? Alrighty then here's 2,000 words.

(Overview) Approaching Remus... nothing sticks out about his appearance or mannerisms. He stands casually, back hunched as he checks over his class notes. He's on the taller end of average, about 5'9"/175cm, but still average. His hair looks soft - a honey brown with light greys around his temples. He keeps it neatly combed, the part well defined - not bothering to hide how his hairline is receding in a widows peak.

(Vibe) Just an average-looking man in his 40s. (It's surprising that he is in his 30s.) And he IS average-looking. A slightly larger rounded nose, thin lips, a weak chin... as he looks down his jaw disappears into his neck. He doesn't look bad by any means. 'Handsome' would be a decent descriptor - but its not the first word most people would jump to, even if they agreed with it. He is fine. Plain. Acceptable. Agreeable. Just a guy. You're likely to forget how he looks the moment you turn your head away.

(Clothes) Even his clothes aren't particularly memorable: Brown tweed suit with a tie... notable only in that it is clearly muggle clothing and looks a little worn. (muggle second-hand clothes are cheap and more available. A smaller population of wizards means less consumption - most robes are custom fitted.) But a simple addition of a teachers cloak (or a cravat, tailcoat jacket, patterned waistcoat, velvet cap, pointed hat...) would be enough to blend in. At your first glance he looks like an enthusiastic Muggle Studies professor, or a traveling Ministry employee.

(Eyes) It's his first glance that shows off whats memorable about him: Big open eyes, a hazel where the outer, blueish rim is stronger in bright light - the honey-brown middle dominant when dim. They catch sight of you, his brows raising in gentle surprise - accentuating the lines on his forehead... and morphing the shape of his scars.

(Scars) Deep, red - but not angry. They seem both old and oddly recent: They don't look like they hurt anymore, nor are they likely to split and bleed, but they aren't the puffy, pale look you would expect. Some creature, probably magical, has torn his face apart. If you are well studied you can probably spot the telltale signs of a werewolf scar. Most people can't.

The largest is diagonal, splitting his eyebrow, crossing the bridge of his nose and onto the opposite cheek. How lucky it missed his eye. Another has split his bottom lip, making a divot - but has missed his upper lip. His neat-and-tidy pencil mustache grows uninterrupted - and accentuates the friendly smile he rests on when looking at you.

The savagery of his scars is the one thing about him that doesn't seem soft... the one thing thats sharp - other than his gaze.

(Manner) "Hello there! Is there something in particular you need...?" His smile doesn't waiver for even a moment. There's something wrong with it. His teeth are fine, straight enough, a normal yellow-white... but it's too steady. Too friendly. There's something in his bright eyes that is trying desperately to glimmer with playfulness... but instead looks wary and guarded. They don't dart about the room nervously, or stare fearfully - they are just so steady. The places he looks are calculated, making judgements... and keeping his conclusions hidden.

"...Very well. I apologize for not being a better host, but I'm rather busy I'm afraid. Please - make yourself at home." He turns back to his papers, flicking through them... before walking to his chair and sitting down. His gait is purposeful, letting his shoes clack loudly on the hard floor.

He tugs his sleeves up, revealing slender (and hairy) wrists from the baggy sleeves - and dips his quill to write.

(Hands) ...The fingers gripping the quill are wrong, too. Thin white scars. Fresh cuts. His knuckles all seem to stick out - some slightly angled in directions they shouldn't be. Some fingers can't quite close properly - and two are taped together, healing from a minor break. White callouses cover the pads of his fingers, like he has rubbed them on grit for years.

The thin wrists disappearing into his tweed jacket... equally thin ankles covered by socks peeking out from under his trousers... This man is skinnier than he appears, his clothes a little big on him.

By themselves these oddities are easy enough to pass off as a part of his job. He is a slightly awkward, poor, skinny guy who enjoys giving practical lessons and is quite the talented spell-slinger. He must be more a 'man of action' than first impressions let on. He gets into more scrapes than he should in the name of enthusiasm... . . . ... If you were to ever see him undressed... a different story is told. (Which is why he never undresses. Even in summer - two layers at all times.)

(Body Hair) He unbuttons and takes off his shirt, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. He is very hairy. Honey-brown peppered with patches of grey - covering him to a nearly comical degree. Enough to make you snort with surprise. ...He doesn't see the humor in it.

Covering his chest up to his collarbone - down over his entire stomach and groin... it only thins out a little as it crosses the crease to his thighs and down his legs, thinning out at the line where his socks grind on his shins. He's hairy on his back and ass too, though thinner - the underside of his arms are still hairless though, as are his sides... though the upper side of his arms are thick and brown. His pits impressively dense and grey.

If he wasn't so embarrassed he might tell you he has long given up on shaving. It was too itchy. You can see why - in some places the hair is thick enough to be called fur.

(Breaks) The hair might be a blessing in disguise - it obscures what else is wrong with him. Deep bruises of varying stages of healing sit around what you can see of his ribs... which are crooked. They stick out - he is thin after all - and they aren't parallel curves anymore. If you trailed your finger along them you could feel the cracks, the breaks that settled and reformed incorrectly.

A well-fed, healthy werewolf doesn't shatter on the full moon. They get ravenously hungry and hormonal - their body using the nutrients to shift smoothly and grow specific new muscles to help with the process. As they get older and experience more and more shifts - their body changes to be something in-between werewolf and man.

But Remus is not a well-fed, healthy werewolf. He keeps himself starved for a reason beyond simply being too poor to afford good food all the time: (Humanity) Ask any werewolf how long ago they think Remus was bitten and they'll say 10 years maximum. "He's got the body hair - but the backs of his ears aren't hairy yet. His nails still grow flat and he walks heel-to-toe. He's collected a good number of scars, but his body's still not used to shifting..." ...Jaws drop when you tell them its 30 years. There are teenagers more wolf-like than him.

He looks more human than he should... but at the cost of his physical condition. He is brittle, weak and always in joint pain somewhere.

(Body Scars) If you thought the scar on his face was deep - my god, his body... Splitting the hair on his torso like rips in shag carpet are long cross-crossing scars. Deep like the ones on his face, but larger. More.

He hurts himself some full moons - the smell of blood and the pain soothes his violent mind. The easiest, meatiest places to reach? His waist and thighs. Horizontal gashes in his ribs and waist. Vertical on the sides and front of his thighs. Diagonal on his hips and ass. He has a few other scars dotted here and there from others, mostly from his days as a spy. He has a few pale, fully-healed scars from his friends, too: Prongs' antlers and Padfoots teeth and claws. Nothing nearly as savage as what he has done to himself, though.

(Bite) He has tooth marks on his forearms and calves from chewing his own limbs, though they aren't as bad as the massive, stretched, warped punctures around his shoulder. "I was laying on my side when he climbed into my bedroom and sank his jaws into me. I suppose they look a little strange now, not muzzle-shaped at all... I've grown since I was 5." He will tell you. Out of any cut, bite or scratch those tooth marks look the reddest, the rawest, the angriest... and Remus says "Just standing under the moonlight is enough to make them sting."

(Body) He is right, he has grown since he was 5. In more ways than growing up. To shift into a werewolf is to shift into something bigger than you are – that changes your human body, too. Little by little. Older werewolves, the few that there are, get so hairy, misshapen and large that they can't remain in regular society at all. They either lash out bad enough after years of exclusion that they are sent to Azkaban, killed in 'self defense' – or embrace living in the wild like an animal at all times of the month. Hermits. (Sometimes they are spotted by muggles who mistakenly call them Sasquatch.) While Remus is 5'9"/175cm, if he weren't a werewolf he would likely be 5'7”/170cm or so. His spine has stretched – and as he isn't bulking up like most werewolves would, so he looks stretched. The bones bump out on his neck and upper back when he hunches, so he keeps the best posture he can to 'suck them in'. But to him it is worth it, because it means he is broken... but safe. (Werewolf) If you open a textbook, you will see photos and drawings of towering beasts - long like a man, but shaped like a canine. A muzzle overstuffed with wild teeth, forward-facing amber eyes, long fingers that end in savage claws, walking on the balls of their feet with a high hock - and a draping furred tail. They walk on all fours in an awkward loping gait - often standing up on two, their arms curled in, to sniff the air and howl. They aren't the most graceful beast, but have the strength of a bear due to their sheer size. You wouldn't want to be chased by one. ... Unless it was Remus. His body almost goes into shock every full moon, unable to draw on the energy and nutrients he needs. He doesn't grow a full pelt of fur. - so he looks diseased and bare. His skin stretches and sticks like wet leather to his bones. Just standing up on two legs takes enough effort to leave him panting. After a burst of adrenaline at moon-rise, he spends the rest of the night pottering about on all fours, laying down frequently to catching his breath and whimper with pain and hunger. But he knows what he is when he is well fed. When he was a teenager going on adventures with his friends, he was well fed on Hogwarts meals... and he was strong. Strong enough that a buck and a large hound were only just enough to drive him away from places he shouldn't go - the wounds he's get from them showed desperation. How irresponsible he was. Better a quivering heap... better a quivering man.

[scarlet-shakedown]

Midnight Suns - Chapter 2

Summary: The Devil gives Johnny his first bounty, but it gets complicated.

TW: Language & Dark Themes

I don’t remember much. It hurt so bad at first but then it was the best feeling I’d ever felt. I was riding. Riding faster than I ever had before. I let him take over and it was like I was free; unchained.

I had to go somewhere. I had this overwhelming feeling like I was late. I pulled myself away from the mirror I had locked my gaze into and stumbled out the front door. I was late and I had to fucking hurry. I hobbled onto the seat of my motorcycle and met my warm bones to its cold handlebars. I felt every rumble that quaked from the bike as if the very soul I sold resided within its engine. I sped out of my driveway and onto the road, shooting straight for the highway. Nothing was going to get in my way and I was determined to arrive on time.

I pushed through the road, blurring my vision from how fast I flew down it. I was going faster and faster and I wasn’t planning on slowing down. I continued along the highway until I saw a man in the middle of the street dressed head to toe in a fancy black suit. He held a marble cane in his hand raised above his feet. As I continued to barrel forward, he calmly loosened his grip, sending the cane to thud against the ground. And with that sudden motion, my motorcycle halted abruptly, sending me flying off it and landing face first in front of him. I stood up quickly and dusted myself off. I instantly recognized the man stood in front of me. I’d managed to forget somehow. Maybe he made me forget.

I met my gaze with his and growled in a deep, gravely voice, “You.. did this to me.”

A beast wearing the flesh of man; the Devil stood before me.

“No, Johnny!” He chuckled. “You did this.”

“You told me.. I could save him.” I hissed regretfully.

“Well unfortunately, I can only save people who want to be saved. Your brother was basically asking to die with those street races.”

I was overwhelmed with anger. I wanted to hurt him worse than he hurt me but I couldn’t move; he wouldn’t let me.

He grinned then blurted his speech, “Now Johnny, if we’re done with this meaningless conversation, I’ve got a job for you. Not a big one! We can call it baby’s first bounty. There’s a werewolf out tonight, but if you look to sky, you’ll see it’s not a full moon. That isn’t supposed to happen. I want you to get on that bike of yours, and go put that mutt down.”

And so I got back on my motorcycle and did just that. I wanted to fight back and tell him to screw himself, but something deep down told me it would be pointless.

After a bit of looking for the monster, I found it scurrying into the woods. I veered off the road and sped right next to the werewolf I was looking for. He was running; it looked like he was running from something before I found him. I jumped from my bike and tackled the beast to the dirt. It looked docile, and wasn’t trying to scratch me or escape, but I had a job to do. I raised my fist, smoldering with heat, ready to end the beast. The creature looked scared, but the empathy I felt quickly vanished. I arched my arm back, ready to plunge my fist into the beast’s heart, when a chunk of metal hit the back of my head, allowing the creature to move to safety.

I looked behind me and saw a man dressed in finely tailored white suit.

“Ooh Lord.” He quickly muttered under his breath.

I was filled with an anger, a deep rooted, ancient rage that was not my own. “Are you God?” I sputtered the words the spirit in me wanted to say.

He quipped back quickly, “Umm.. no, mate. I’m Steven.. w-with a V.”

I quickly looked at the werewolf cowering nearby, with the spirit still speaking through me, “Why do you protect it?”

The spirit wanted me to attack. It felt the presence of souls unjustly ended from within Steven. I tried to fight back but it quickly overpowered me. I lunged towards him.

“Marc, Marc! Do something!” Steven shouted as I leapt forward.

Right before I was able to grab him, he threw a right hook, perfectly landing across my face. I fell to the floor almost immediately after.

I looked at him standing above me, his posture different than before. He muttered to himself, “Jesus.”

Before I blacked out, the spirit spoke one more time, “He’s… won’t… save you.” Then everything went dark.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

They Did The Monster Mash 🎃 | TGM Halloween Imagine

Set in an AU where the characters of TGM are classical and mythology monsters/creatures

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: mad scientist!Bob Floyd x mad scientist!reader (romantic), Dagger Sqaud (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, light profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.4K

Premise: it’s All Hallow’s Eve, a night where ghouls and monsters alike awaken from every inch of the globe. What better way to celebrate the spookiest night of the year than gathering all those lurking in the shadows to the party everyone wants to be.

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here’s a fluffy, spooky little imagine for y’all as a treat 🎃

——————-

‘Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the cemetery. Not a creature was moaning, as they basked in solitary. The pumpkins were lit, with carved faces to stare. In hopes the monsters of the night, soon will be there.

“Bob!” Y/n shouted, frantically searching for her coat. It was a quarter till midnight on October the 30th. Soon it would be Halloween. And with a full moon high in the sky it was the perfect moment to test out their newest creation. “It is almost time! We must make haste!”

“I’m right here, darling,” her coat in his hand, Dr. Floyd dimmed the lights on his way into the lab. The woman exhaled in relief, kissing his cheek before placing the coat over her shoulders.

“What would I do without you, my love?”

Bob adjusted his goggles over his prescription glasses, chuckling, “Probably half as mad as you are now.”

Any other woman would be offended by the comment, but Y/n, the mad scientist she embraced herself to be, only giggled. The two had met during their doctoral program, falling in love and conducting research as a duo. Before long they were blacklisted for unethical experiments, moving underground to hide from society.

But what the world didn’t know, was they uncovered a world beneath their own. Where monsters heard in legends and fairytales roamed freely. Living amongst humans to the naked eye.

Since forming partnerships with fellow outcasts like themselves, the couple have traveled every Halloween to Transylvania, Romania. There the infamous vampire Pete Mitchell, descendent of Dracula himself, hosts an annual Halloween festival with monsters and ghouls alike.

The party always started around sunset on Halloween night. So the two had plenty of time before gearing up their transportation pod to zap them to Pete’s mansion. Y/n placed her own goggles on, brushing away her dyed jet black hair with white streaks, mischievous smirk painting her lips, “Shall we begin?”

“It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. (One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater). A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. Sure looks strange to me.” The party was in full swing when the couple arrived. Creatures in every corner, a werewolf howling in the distance, bats flying overhead. They were home.

“Doctors!” They spun around to find the monster of the mansion sporting a cheshire grin, fangs threatening to poke out. Lord Pete Mitchell, having recently fed by the bright color of his eyes and lack of under eye bags, wore a snazzy black pinstripe suit with a blood red tie. The handkerchief in his breast pocket, as well as the soles of his shoes, were the same color. “It is so wonderful to see you. I’m always amazed by your entrance every year. God forbid the governments of the world discover you’ve cracked the code of transportation.”

“Don’t forget time travel,” Y/n winked, causing Pete to laugh.

“Of course,” he flashes his pearly white teeth before frowning after peering around them, “Where is your--.” Y/n gently cuts him off.

“Oh at the lab. Ever since we created his bride he refuses to leave the basement” Pausing she gives a knowing look, “You know how young love is, my Lord.”

Pete makes an ‘ah’ sound, “Yes, yes, I understand. When you return, do let him know he is missed. And that I cannot wait to meet his bride next Halloween.” He winks, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves, “Please make yourself at home. We’re still waiting on a few more before the festivities of the night fully begin. Until then, the bar is open--as always--and do let me know if you need any more necessities for your upcoming projects.”

“Thank you, Lord Mitchell. My wife and I appreciate your hospitality and generosity greatly.” Bob shook his gloved hand, still able to feel the cold dead skin that laid beneath it. The vampire made his departure, moving to greet other guests. Y/n weaved her arm through Bob’s open arm, letting him guide her to their group of friends they spotted in the distance by the bar.

“Well look at what the wolves dragged in.” Jake Seresin, an incubus famous in both the underground and real world, was the first to notice them. With his ability to seduce and mentally bend people to his will, Jake succeeded in becoming a high profile Hollywood actor. Making it accessible for him to feed on the blood of men and women alike. Unlike Pete, who was a vampire, Jake appeared human and only took the form of his demon counterpart when he hadn’t fed in a long time.

“Seresin,” Bob nodded, glaring when the blonde creature approached to take Y/n’s hand and kiss her knuckles. He had nothing to worry about of course. Y/n was immune to Jake’s charms, threatening to experiment on him the first time he attempted to swoon her.

That had him running with his (literal) tail between his legs.

“Careful, Jake,” Came a teasing feminine voice from the side, “I hear the mad scientists have been searching for Incubi blood on the black market.” Jake sent a glare in the direction of the voice, the couple following it to find Natasha perched on a bar stool, stroking her black cat seated in her lap.

A witch, with family dating back to the Salem Witch Trials, Natasha was the type of woman people couldn’t help but fear and desire. In the small village she lived deep in the forest surrounding, rumors of the witch swarmed with many believing her responsible for the curse on the town's most corrupt and wealthy families.

Well, to them they were rumors….

Y/n slipped past Bob, opening her arms to the woman, “Lovely to see you again on this Holiday, dear Natasha.” The hug was brief, Y/n making sure to offer a light pet to the cat, piercing her with its stare.

“As to you, Madam Floyd.”

“Tell me,” Y/n leaned closer, “Were you successful?” Natashe smirked at the question, whispering under her breath.

“We shall find out once the sun rises. But I can assure you the Supreme Court will think twice before bringing forth groundbreaking cases to overturn.”

“Marvelous,” the doctor awed. She moved along to say hello to their other friends. There was Javy, a werecoyote and Jake’s best friend. The full moon affects him like it does werewolves, but he’d already consumed his monthly dose of Wolfsbane to prevent the transformation from happening.

There was Mickey, a hellhound who served as a guard for the Underworld. Tasked with keeping the secret of the supernatural hidden. One can imagine the headaches Jake gives him with being a celebrity in the real world. When Mickey became his hellhound persona, cracks in his skin appeared like molten lava.

Reuben was present, and thankfully Y/n remembered to wear her iron jewelry. The tall, handsome fairy sipped on his usual cocktail. Like Jake he was the most ‘humanlike’ of the bunch where he could easily walk amongst mortals without causing suspicion. His golden eyes were a stand out, however, often covered by contacts. Of the group he had known Mickey the longest, the two meeting centuries prior during a war between fae and goblins.

“I’m not late am I?” came a booming sound from the main entrance, all heads turning. Jake instantly groaned, the others pleased to see the Alpha werewolf, Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh with his typical Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

“You’re right on time,” Pete announced from the top of the steps, raising a glass of red liquid. Bradley gave a two finger salute, strutting over to the group and ordered his go to--a pitcher of beer.

“Greetings, fellow myths and legends,” he drank half of the pitcher in a single gulp, winking afterwards, “at least to the humans that is.”

“What took you so long, Bradshaw?” Jake twirled his pue cue, “too busy brushing your winter coat? Or did you have to get one last howl at the moon?”

Used to the jabs, Bradley rebutted with, “Jake, good to see you again as always. You’re looking a little pale though--Did you not have time to drain a virgin before coming? I’m sure Pete can find someone in the nearby town.” Reuben whistled under his breath, Javy letting out a fool blown laugh.

“C’mon you gotta admit that was good,” he nudged Jake, who was very much offended.

“Men,” Y/n muttered, Natasha clicking her glass against hers in agreement. “They’ll never change.”

After several minutes of small talk and drinks, Pete tapped his spoon against his glass. The action is loud enough for supernatural hearing to get everyone's attention. For the mad scientists, they saw the reactions of their friends and followed their direction.

At the top of the mansion's grand staircase, Pete stood beside his wife Penny. The beautiful siren, infamous in Greek mythology for luring shipwrecked men to their death, was stunning in her black gown. Along her arms and neck, rimming her hairline were seafoam green scales, reflecting under the dim gaze of the lights.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, “Thank you all for coming tonight. You’ve traveled from near and far, let my wife and I be the first to say Happy Halloween!” cheers broke among the crowd. Well really they were howls, moans, and chaotic laughter. “It truly is the best night of the year. And what better way to kick it off than to toast.” Penny was handed a glass of her own red liquid. To the human eye it’d be believed as wine. But to those witnessing below, they were well aware of what its contents contained.

Speaking of those in attendance, they all grabbed their own drinks and brews. Pete lifted his first, “Let us toast to the one time of year we get to leave the shadows. Where the world looks at us as more than creatures of night. They dress up as us,” chuckles echoed, “they consume everything in relation to us. They walk their streets oblivious to the fact we roam behind their shoulders.” Pete pauses, sending a sweet gaze to Penny. “To All Hallow’s Eve!”

“To All Hallow’s Eve!!’ glasses raised, everyone cheersing before downing whatever was left in their goblets. Bradley finished his first pitcher of beer, the bartender sliding down the next one. Natasha poured something out of her flask into her goblet. Leave it to the Witch to travel with her own brew.

“Alright,” Bradley raised the pitcher, “Let’s get this party started!” As if on cue the DJ, who happened to be a mummy, started to play the Halloween classics. Lights flashed on every corner, the dance floor glowing a spooky fluorescent green. Dry ice from the massive cauldron flooded the area.

Ghosts bogeyed during the Ghostbusters theme. Zombies got down and dirty to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. The children had a blast with ‘This is Halloween’ and ‘Time Warp’. Later on Nat and Y/n let loose to Rockwells ‘Somebody’s Watching Me’.

Bob kept his eyes on his wife during that one. Lowkey thinking about ending the party early.

Poker was played amongst the men. Pete even joined alongside two Harpys, Beau and Solomon. During this Y/n and Natasha conversed with Penny. They spoke of Y/n’s experiments, Natasha’s feud with the village she resides by, and Penny’s travels back to Greece earlier that year.

“Oh it was fascinating,” Penny boasted, finishing off her third glass of ‘wine’. “Still as beautiful as I remember, although it still takes time getting used to the fact they now call Anthemoessa ‘Cape Pelorum.’”

“Did you visit the Parthenon?”

“I tried,” the Siren scoffed lightly at the memory, “at night of course when no one was around, but I couldn’t get past the damn door. I’m not surprised though,” she rolled her eyes, “Athena never liked us.”

As Midnight approached the crowd began to gather on the dance floor. Of course the night could not end without playing the couple’s favorite. Once the DJ announced it was time for the grand event, Bob took Y/n’s hand, “May I have this dance, wife?”

“Why of course, husband,” she smirked. “This is our song after all.”

The others had already made way, forming their own little circle and grabbing partners of their own. There was a reason this particular song was favored over the rest. Starting from the very first verse.

“I was working in the lab, late one night. When my eyes beheld an eerie sight. For my monster from his slab, began to rise. And suddenly to my surprise.”

“He did the mash,” the moves Y/n and Bob started to do a twist, similar to Vince and Mia in the iconic dance scene of Pulp Fiction. “He did the monster mash.”

“The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash.” Natasha shimmied with Mickey. “He did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Penny was spun by Pete. “He did the mash. He did the monster mash.”

A stunning succubus had managed to pull Jake under her spell. How fitting.

“From my laboratory in the castle east. (Wa-ooh) To the master bedroom where the vampires feat. (wa-wa-ooh) The ghouls all came from their humble abodes. (Wa-ooh) To get a jolt from my electrodes.”

Bob pulled Y/n to him, dancing chest to chest, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.” Javy, Bradley, and Reuben were having a dance battle in the middle of the circle. “The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash. They did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Y/n giggled, letting Bob twirl her in a circle, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.”

It was a total spooky vibe. Monsters doing the Mash. Each time Dracula was mentioned everyone pointed to Pete, who rolled his eyes. He did, however, do the Transylvania Twist during its name drop, causing them all to hype him up.

The sun would rise at dawn, they’d all go back to living in the shadows. Back to a place where they were the villains of every story. Subjected to demise by the hero. No longer idolized and embedding fear in everyone who dared think of them. Once the sun rose, another Halloween had come and gone.

But until then, creatures of the night thrived in the darkness to the graveyard smash.

………

[beansandsprouts]

Enough

Chapter 4

Dean winchester x fem reader

Chapter 1

Previous chapter

Summary: A case takes you to your hometown where you have the displeasure of running into a very shitty ex boyfriend. Dean doesn't seem to take this too well.

Warnings: cursing, violence, suggestions of domestic violence, suggestions of sexual assault

You were in your room reading a book when Dean knocked on your door and peaked his head in.

"We got a case."

"I'll start packing." You grinned.

You still mostly did cases on your own, but every now and again you and Dean would team up. You enjoyed spending time with him, he was funny and charming, though he could be a tad immature at times. And he was an excellent hunter, you two seemed to read each other's minds, working together seamlessly.

You'd been on the road for half an hour before you asked Dean the details of the case.

"Definitely a werewolf. Three people dead, all missing their hearts."

"Pretty cut and dry. Where exactly are we going?"

"Greer, Arizona."

You felt yourself tense. If you'd known that's where the case was you'd have never agreed to go.

Dean glanced at you, "Whats the deal?"

You bit your lip, it was a small town so there was no way you wouldn't run into people you knew. You could only hope he had moved on.

"That's uh-thats my hometown. So people will recognize me."

"That may make things a little more complicated but we can handle it. You might need a new badge though." He frowned.

"Not to worry, I have one with my real name on it. You never know when you'd need it."

"Smart girl."

You grinned. Dean had gotten more comfortable with you the last few months, hed even started using pet names with you. Itd been a little strange at first, but you didnt mind it. Actually, it seemed they'd all started to accept you as part of the family. It made you feel good, to have people who cared.

The two of you talked for awhile during the drive, you made the mistake of asking about that doctor TV show he loved so much. He went on and on about Dr. Sexy.

Soon enough you'd reached Greer, you looked out the window, familiar sights passing you. The memories were coming back.

Sneaking out into the woods at night with your friends, seeing who'd get scared first. Spending your Friday nights at the diner. You tried to push away the bad memories that kept trying to pop up, but it was hard to forget the things he'd done.

You pulled into the parking lot of one of the local cabin places. The town didn't really have a motel, so you'd have to rent a cabin. Dean approached the man at the front desk and you turned to browse some pamphlets by the front door.

"Checking in?" He asked, offering a smile.

"Ah no, we wanted to ask if there was a cabin we could have for a couple days." Dean answered.

"Oh I'm sorry we don't really do last minute reservations. Maybe try another place?"

You recognized that voice, you turned around.

"Jessie?"

"Holy shit, y/n. Is that really you?"

"Uh yeah. Wow it's been forever."

"No kidding. What? Eight, nine years now?"

"Yeah, how are you?"

"Its been...mixed. Mom's letting me run this place now. But uh, Des, Minnie, and Robin. Well...they were killed."

"Wait the deaths are them? Oh my god. Me and my partner are working that case right now. I had no idea."

"Partner? Case? You a fed now?"

"Yeah. FBI."

"Thats...wild. I knew you'd wind up doing something cool. You weren't suited to staying here in this tiny town."

You smiled, "It's mostly paperwork honestly. But I enjoy it."

"Well it's good to see you. Let me see what I can do for you."

"You're a lifesaver Jay."

"The only one available is a one bedroom. Everything is booked up, you know how it is this time of year."

"That's fine. We'll figure it out. Seriously, thank you."

"No problem. Let me know if I can help with anything. Oh, and Liz is working at the police station now so she'll probably be the one to talk to for the case."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later."

"Sure thing." He said, handing you to the key.

"You know where the Eagle Cabin is right?"

"Yup."

"Good luck then."

"Thanks!"

You and Dean made your way out to the car and back to the cabin, "Guess I'm glad I took you and not one of the others."

You chuckled, "Guess so."

The two of you made your way into the cabin, dropping your things on the kitchen table and then taking out your suits.

"Dibs on the bathroom!" You called behind you as you rushed into the bedroom and then into the bathroom.

"You little minx!" He shouted, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

A few minutes later the two of you were ready to go, on your way to the police station.

"Desmond Jones, Minnie Smith, and Robin Elward. All of them found dead, with their hearts ripped out."

Liz gave you a list of where the crime scenes were, as well as the addresses of the families and of the victims.

You and Dean interviewed the families, as well as Robin's roommate. None of them could really give you anything of use, except for Robin's roommate, Alyssa. She said something about them all falling out with Jessie, but she didn't know why.

"So, you think it's this Jessie guy?" Dean asked.

"I want to say no, he was such a sweet guy when we were younger. Kind and considerate. But being turned changes you, it's entirely possible he's a completely different person now."

You bit your lip, "It's getting late. Why don't we get some food and pick it up in the morning. We can interrogate Jessie and his girlfriend."

"Sounds like a plan."

The two of you returned to your cabin and changed back into your everyday clothes before heading to the diner.

At the diner you were recognized by a few of the staff and other patrons, chatting with them before sitting down at a booth.

"I remember their burgers being pretty good. Their country fried steak ain't too bad either."

"Both sound pretty good. I think I might get-"

"Hey y/n."

The voice made your stomach drop. You looked up, and there he was. Evan. The boyfriend you'd left behind when you'd ditched this town.

"I see you're back. You didn't come see me." His voice was cold, his eyes were blank.

"I uhm-"

"It was pretty bitchy of you to leave like you did."

"My parents had just died-"

"Do I look like I give a shit?"

You swallowed and stared down at your hands in your lap. Suddenly you were back to your 20 year old self, terrified and submissive.

Dean looked between the two of you.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked.

"I could ask you the same question. Are you her new boyfriend? You know she's not worth shit right?"

Dean's jaw clenched, "I think you need to walk away now."

"Or what?" Evan sneered.

Dean stood, getting right up into Evans personal space, "Or I'll take you outside and kick your ass so hard you'll wish you were dead."

Evan stared at him for a second before backing down, he turned to you.

"Watch yourself y/n. Wouldn't want something to happen to you." He hissed.

Once Evan was out the door Dean say back down and looked at you.

"Y/n who the hell was that?"

"My um-he was my boyfriend back when I still lived here."

"What'd he do to you?" His tone was hard.

"Nothing." You answered quickly. Too quickly.

"Bullshit it was nothing. You're shaking and I've never seen you so...scared. You can talk to me sweetheart."

He was right, you were shaking. Your anxiety had risen astronomically since Evan had shown up.

You looked about at Dean, you could see the concern in his eyes as he looked at you. You took a deep breath.

"He um. He got kind of physical when we fought or if I did something wrong. And...and he was um touchy."

"I'll kill him." Dean stood, ready to stalk out the door after Evan. You stood and grabbed his arm.

"No! Don't. Please. It was a long time ago."

"He still did it. And he should be punished."

"Dean." You pleaded, he turned to look at you, "Please."

He frowned, "Fine. But if he shows up again I'm beating his ass."

You sighed in relief as you both sat back down. Soon enough your waitress came by and you ordered.

You were fiddling with your straw wrapper while you waited, carefully avoiding eye contact with the man across from you. You were ashamed and embarrassed. You didn't want him to think of you as weak.

"Hey." Dean cleared his throat.

"I know you can take care of yourself, but if something like that ever happens again you tell me alright? I'll handle it."

You gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded. That seemed to be enough for him as he nodded and sat back in his seat.

When your food came you two were quiet at first, until Dean asked you about that movie you'd tried to get him to watch the other night.

It quickly pulled you out of your funk, telling him about the characters and how well written it was and how much you loved the costumes the actors wore.

Dean was relieved to see you smiling again, to see your eyes lit up. The you he'd seen when Evan approached you was a you he never wanted to see again.

----------

If you want to be tagged when I update let me know!

@ladysparkles78

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hello! Just trying out the Redacted Audio Matchup!

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

I am currently obsessed with the song Bitterwater by The Oh Hellos, I love folk-rock and songs I feel like would be played in a DND tavern.

"Bury me beneath the tree I climbed when I was a child"

I don't know why I liked this verse but it gave me a message that home is a place where you are the happiest (If that makes sense)

What is your Enneagram type?

I am a type 4 (the individualist) which makes sense kind of

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

I have actually never heard of this channel so I don't have an answer.

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

Their name is Jasmine, they've been my imaginary friend since I was a kid, and they change their look on the regular, they're usually there to comfort me when I'm down and alone.

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Usually just put on some asmr video and wait till I fall asleep.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

I keeping my name at the moment, though I have tried to think of a name that suits me, that makes comfortable and confident in it. I don't have a name yet, but I hope to find one in the future

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

"Talking Commitment with your Werewolf Boyfriend"

This video just really shows how strong and healthy Milo and Sweetheart's relationship is, that they clarify that they don't feel like they need to get married to be devoted to each other. I love Milo and Sweetheart's relationship, it's full of fluff and understanding for each other.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

Vega, he just doesn't interest me, he seems so bland and just has really nothing really worth for my to hear.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

How to Train Your Dragon (all the movies)

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

I know this kinda seems basic but Huxley, I see him more as a brother/best friend then anything romantic.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

I just start rambling about the most random things, like they aren't even related to what I was saying before, they just start Poppin outta nowhere.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Sausage rolls and Hot Chocolate, it always makes me feel like a child again.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment.

Funny thing...I don't have a playlist, the playlist I think would count would just be The Oh Hellos! Dear Wormwood album. I just love their songs ❤️

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Tough one but it would have to be reading bl comics and manga.

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are!

I am an artist who is striving to be a character designer one day! I love DND and rpg games, I dance and sing in my room by myself, and I use my imagination more than I think is healthy. I am queer, and I want to make friends, but I tend to be quite odd to talk with, so that is mostly a problem. I very much hate math too and I am not a morning person (very much a night owl)

Lemme tell you, this one took me on a RIDE- a flimflamming, tossing and turning, back and forth ride with loop de loops. I had to think incredibly hard about this, so it is with hard won assurance when I say you and Ollie must be together.

Being a Type Four, the Individualist, your imaginary friend, and wanting to make friends gives me the image of someone who’s kind of lonely, if I may say so? Ollie wouldn’t let that continue, because he personifies loyal, sweet, simple companionship like no other Redacted boi. Making friends would be so easy and natural with him by your side, integrating your lives together, introducing you to his cat, inviting you to board game nights with his friends. A life with him would be very full.

It would also be so fun! I think another reason y’all would get along so well is that y’all like a lot of the same things! I can just imagine y’all sharing character playlists for your campaigns, exchanging little TTRPG memes, getting little Cattywumpus footsteps all over your character sheets because y’all left them on the coffee table. When you’re not out with your TTRPG friends, you’re having lots of cozy nights in, chilling on the couch, Ollie kissing your cheek as he watches you draw over your shoulder.

Song:

They'll speak of me in whispered tones/ And say my name like it shakes their bones/ 'Cause we'll dance together so close we're sharing breath/ But now I'm leading, doesn't that just scare you to death

Is this a traditionally romantic or cute song? No. Is it hella fantasy, storytelling, narrative vibes? Abso-fucking-lately. It’s giving enemies to lovers with indescribable, undeniable chemistry and tension, and I think you and Ollie would have a blast carpool karaoke-ing it and acting it out.

Runner-Ups:

So here’s where the issue was- Milo and Ollie were fucking duking it out for your hand with Asher just ekeing out behind in third. They’re both sweet and supportive, fun, eager to engage with your interests and hobbies; Milo even has a cat too. Ollie just fucking won because it’s canon he’s a game nerd and I liked an Unempowered boy with you.

note: we should be friends I myself am odd and unusual 💕

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[so-long-soldier28]

Who would you give the hottest milf and dilf award to in the tvd universe?

oh boy did i have fun answering this question...

okay so both these categories have soo many options, i'm gonna root through my options before awarding the hottest. 😅

also, we've got actual milf / dilfs to compare, plus children-less folks who have milf / dilf energy, but that's a separate category.

but if we're looking at genuine parents, i've already got my dilf picked out.

let's go...!

(tw: bit of kink mention smack in the middle; dirty thoughts)

(also this is my opinion and certainly doesn't reflect the entirety of the fandom so no one come for me plz)

milfs

alright.

i had three pop in my head immediately, as soon as i processed the question.

first, katherine. ofc. and she is technically a mom, even though i forgot about nadiya at first.

she's both a badass and super hot (my bisexual awakening at the age of 12, actually), so she definitely qualifies for this category.

second, bonnie. not a mom, although she would make an amazing mom, given the chance. i was just watching 8x9 and she looked so freaking gorgeous, i had to pause to catch my breath (literally, my jaw dropped).

and all respect to kat, but let's not forget 1x5, the car wash episode… she looked fking amazing in that bikini, like, i died.

also, the entirety of s7, she was both sassy and gorgeous. i was so happy she got a chance to shine (finally) & she killed it. long overdue but soooo worth the wait.

she's always gorgeous, always badass, and like i said, would make a wonderful mom.

third, elena, but specifically season 6. idk if it was the single life that brought out her confidence or what, but she was glowing in that season.

i wasn't a fan of her most of the time, but she had huge mommy / milf energy throughout s6. i can't explain it, it's just vibes.

now, since you said tvd universe, i must also add rebekah and hayley to the mix.

rebekah is totally a qualifier for many of the same reasons katherine is, minus the actual kid. i fucking love her, and given the chance, she'd be a great mom, too.

hayley… loved her in the first 1-2 ish seasons.. liked her less when it felt like she was leading on both elijah and werewolf boy / nathan parsons wtf was his name.. JACKSON, that was it.

wasn't a fan of that.

she was a great mom to hope, always defended her daughter, and was very protective towards the people she loved, but she's only a contender for my list.

before i move onto dilfs, i must also add a note about caroline. i just remembered she's a mom, too, but tbh, while i love her to death and she's a great mom, she seems too babygirl-ish to be a milf. this could be bc the whole alaric/caroline thing freaks me out, or maybe it's bc the gemini coven forced pregnancy on her, but i just don't feel milf energy from her.

she was absolutely glowing, and beautiful when she was pregnant, and i adore her to death, but she doesn't fit the vibe.

dilfs

now onto dilfs. i have less contenders.

first… elijah. huge dilf energy, like, insane.

always very protective of his family, of hayley and hope, of his morals and his home… whatever is important, he will defend it.

the suits only add to the dilfishness. that's it. that's the point.

certain scenes, especially throughout the originals are so dilf energy, it sends me to the moon.

the one where they're at the farm or whatever and he's rebuilding fence boards, every scene where he's drinking bourbon, whenever he rolls up his sleeves to deal with someone, or rips out a heart... you know what i mean?

second, you know i have to mention my boy kai…

that scene in 6x22 when he's in that suit… plz for the love of god put a baby in me. 🫣

he's so hot in that scene i can't actually handle it.

also something tells me he's got a breeding kink + he had 7 siblings & certainly knows at least somewhat how to raise kids.

as long as they're no threat, i think he could be a good dad (but i don't think he'd hurt his own kids).

not very dilfy pre-1903, but is very much so afterwards. (like caroline, he's got babygirl energy to me.)

oh! and while we're on the topic of dilf energy, i need to include marcel.

this man is spicy and kills me with his smile alone.

admittedly, there were times he pissed me off, but everyone pissed me off in the originals at some point, even elijah (loml).

i think he would be a great dad. he was so good with helping & being there for davina. he would defend hope despite the shit klaus & elijah put him through. he also kind of "adopted" josh as he did davina.

great leader, too. knew how to keep people in line (even if his system was majorly flawed).

and he's so fucking hot.

dilf energy. that's it.

now, for the actual dilf, i have one contender and one winner.

i really hate to admit it, because he's a terrible, awful person, but he's so fucking hot & obviously has great genes.

joshua parker.

fuck, something about this man does something to me that i can't explain.

i hate his guts.

but he's so hot.

all of his kids are hot, too. like i said, great genes.

definitely on the older side, but that just makes it so much better.

with him it would be like… "my wife died but now idk how to cope & i need to fuck out my sadness," and i would be like, "okay daddy. hey, i heard your eldest killed 4 of your kids, do you wanna make more?"

anyway…

he's on my list with john winchester, called, "fictional men who would be dilfs if they were not child abusers."

Now to crown the winners! ✨👑✨

hottest milf: katherine pierce

hottest dilf: joshua parker

hottest with milf energy: bonnie bennett (s6 elena is a close 2nd)

hottest with dilf energy: elijah mikaelson

[rosallora]

S3E4 Passing Through Gethsemane

I predicted this was a chess game before it was a chess game and personally I am very proud of myself.

Kosh is komin’ home! Welcome home Kosh.

Also the monks live here now! They’re giving out little figurines and people LOVE little figurines. I hope the monks make a biergarden and shit if they’re going to live here. And do like, Cool Monk Things (tm) instead of just being BORING monks.

Kosh’s suit is sounding better! That’s good, and also consistent with what I was thinking in the moments that we saw him before.

Lyta is back! She went to Vorlon space... FOR REAL. And the Vorlon Homeworld FOR REAL FOR REAL! Lyta is like a special little attache for Kosh now! The way she talks about him, it’s kind of like Kosh is like her supernatural werewolf boyfriend and honestly I love that for her. She’s living her best life.

The Monks are smart businessmen! This black rose that the monk found feels like a threat to me. Or... it’s TUXEDO MASK!

Death walks among you

Rather threatening message! Too bad it’s gone now!

I love that Londo tried to threaten Lyta with the psi corps, and Lyta was like “I will rip your fucking brains out”. KILL LYTA! KILL!

Learning about the Minbari way of religious philosophy is super intriguing. And I appreciate that Delenn doesn’t just stop at giving, but wants to learn about the human practices and religions in turn. And the Garden of Gesthemane is an interesting story, and a really moving one, honestly. The strength to stay. I’d like to think that the monks (esp Brother Edward!) and the Minbari have weekly meetings about faith.

Brother Edward went through death of personality! That’s my theory. That’s why he’s seeing this stuff, why he’s doing all this. The black rose was his calling card. He was a truly unhinged person!!! I’m glad that he is talking to Brother Theo.. but I’m worried about what’s going to happen to Edward. He seems like he’s been enjoying his new monk life, but... oh man. Oh man.

Note: ALL BUT CONFIRMED by Brother Theo. Oh... this is bad.

The slight changes in character and the ACTING on this guy... this is really awesome. He’s KILLING it in this role. And he’s doing a wonderful job portraying the inner turmoil and grief and panic that he must be feeling.

I’m wondering how the Garden will come back in this regard. The sins were forgotten... but the soul remembers.... that’s so interesting... you can’t pay penance, perhaps, for what you don’t know. For what you forget. The idea that this is not enough justice... it’s so intense. And that SHOT... with Edward CRYING.... that’s such an amazing image. And I want the best for him. I want him to be okay. And I don’t want him to die.

I really hope that we can come out of this with a better SENSE of justice. This is all very... over the top punitive. Sick and twisted. Bringing Lyta in as a kind of brute force crowbar is NOT good either. I don’t like that going around the law is being shown as a “good” thing.

He DID have the courage to stay at the garden. That’s... an interesting wrap-around. I really don’t want him to die, though. I want him to live through this. I want him to be able to recover, and grow, and be a better person. I don’t want him to simply die. Maybe this will inspire something in Garibaldi (and perhaps Sheridan?) though. I want them to be... less punitive. Less militaristic.

Forgiveness is a HARD THING, sure. But something to strive for, always.

The prison to monk pipeline..........

[lordkingsmith]

"Do I have to?" Oliver asked as he observed his rotted hands and rotting suit. "Be alive, I mean. I didn't ask to be alive the first time, I certainly didn't ask to be brought back the second time."

This was the usual response, so Dante let it slide off their back. "It's currently the year 1600 of Definitive New Era of the Age of the Princess's Wish." Dante informed him cheerfully. "You are a revenant, and from an era of time we know very little about and would like to know more about, if you'd please."

This was where they would go silent, as they were dead. However, the spell would compel the ones who weren't actively trying to forget to agree while the others would remain silent. Oliver remained silent. Oliver also fell back dramatically back into his grave. "Bury me" he said from the remains of the coffin. "I'm tired."

"You've been asleep for sixteen centuries!"

"Which obviously was not enough time." Echoed up to Dante. "So I would like to sleep again."

"I can't do that," Dante rubbed their face with a sigh. "The spell lasts for eighty two years before it needs renewal." A long plaintive groan from the undead. "There's other options, if you'd like." Dante offered helpfully. "Come out of your grave, let's go to my parlor. We should discuss this."

The little he'd gleaned was confirmation the undead's name was indeed Oliver Lockheed. He was indeed in the grand old consideration of life years 27, and did not appreciate the concept of transitioning to death year and revival dates. Though this was normal again, so Dante patiently wrote these important details down as they discussed, just for Oliver's medical records for Dante's notes. Further discussion gleaned Oliver was native to the area and was indeed male. Also, his life and death was apparently a bit of an embarrassment, hence the lack of wanting to discuss it in any consideration. A pity, given he'd been born in the town the forest had eaten. He'd lived and died there, and his life offered as much insight as anyone could hope for. Still, Dante followed the rules and procedures. They let Oliver slip into his most basic faculties for the agreed amount of seven years, and let it be.

"Hello again Oliver." They said brightly when Oliver blinked slowly back into higher functioning, the hen settled on his lap. "I had to wake you up fully three weeks two days nine hours and seventeen minutes early." Dante gestured at the chicken and the lilac bush settled at their feet. "It's a little bit out of my hands, unfortunately."

"It's a bit hazy" Oliver responded slowly. "I think I befriended a dog?"

"No, worse." Dante said patiently. "You've entered a courtship with a werewolf."

Dante blinked, sat there, then startled the slow way the revived all tended to do. "A courtship?! My barely functioning managed to start dating?!"

"If it makes you feel better I've never heard of this happening."

"Why the-why would that make me feel better?!" The chicken clicked disapprovingly at the raised voice. Oliver put a hand on her feathers soothingly.

Dante is the necromancer that brought Oliver to life, and their dynamic is so much fun? I love these two so much already, they’re going to be a chaotic duo trying to muddle through the romance Oliver stumbled into lol

[ugly-anastasia]

On This Night, In This Light | Anatoby

Date: 15 June 2024 Featuring: @toby-determined Warnings: yeaaaaarrning

Annie makes an unexpected stop on her way home from prom.

ANNIE

Annie continued down the path, not letting up her pace. She cursed this long path; if she were at Town Hall she could call an Uber and be home in fifteen minutes. But no. That was fine, though. Every step got her closer to her destination.

Sometime halfway down the path, Annie nearly tripped over a root, and she ripped her shoes off as though they’d personally insulted her. By the time she got back into town, her feet were sore and covered in dirt, her hair hung flat around her face, her dress had picked up dirt and leaves, and her makeup was smudged across her face. But she was almost home.

Except that when she pulled up the Uber app, the closest one was twenty minutes away, and stupidly expensive. Prom night rates. Annie should have known.

I could just walk at this rate, Annie thought bitterly, stepping onto the sidewalk and starting down the road. Once in a while, she checked the Uber rates. Still ridiculous.

Annie walked. She walked and walked, pushing away the thoughts of her argument with Gaston, her argument with Georgette. She pushed away the thought of Mummy’s disappointed face when this whole ordeal inevitably got splashed across the gossip blog. Somehow, she found herself in northeast Swynlake.

Somehow, she found herself approaching Castle Suites.

Annie could blame it on Swynlake magic turning her around and getting her lost. But if she was honest with herself, she’d been on her way here ever since she’d left Gaston on the steps of the castle. Because she knew who would be here, practically the only one in Swynlake home on prom night. He’d told her he would be.

Annie knocked on the door.

TOBY

And Toby was.

Home that was. In the empty flat since Lucky was at the dance with his date. Toby had waved him off, complimenting his attire, and then turned back to the space to get started. He hadn’t been lying when he said he had plans to clean the place while he had the night to spare. Not that it ever got to the point of being concerning, but now there weren’t any dishes in the sink and the stack of mail that he’d been meaning to get to had been sorted, no longer living in a mess on the counter. His laundry had gotten done and his bed made. He had even been able to reorganize one of his bookshelves, no longer having to restack the most recently finished ones on his bedside table. They all had a place to sit without fear of being knocked over in his search for his glasses in the morning.

It smelled vaguely of pinesol, though he tried to mostly use non fragranced supplies these days. Lucky didn’t have to say it but Toby had done research, thinking too much of something would be harsh on a werewolf’s nose.

He had been asleep when someone knocked on the door. Yes, it was early, but he had been tired and needed the rest. The sound made him blink awake. He waited to see if it had been on their door and not someone else’s on the hall, because who would be here at this hour? On this night? Unless Lucky had forgotten his keys or something. When another knock came, echoing through the flat, he sighed.

He got up, put on his glasses, and wandered out to look through the peephole, raising up on his toes slightly to do so.

And there was Ms. Tremaine.

Forgetting that he was in only a plain shirt and pajama pants, still looking sleep soft and a little groggy, he opened the door.

“Ms. Tremaine,” he greeted. “What are you doing here?”

ANNIE

Annie had only ever seen Toby in the same clothing— black slacks, a white button-down, a tie. In his pajamas, he looked different— softer, and Annie again had a bizarre impulse (this time to smell his shirt to find out what detergent he used).

Something was seriously wrong with her. Why was she here?

She knew why she was here. Because all Annie had wanted tonight was for someone to see her. And Toby always did.

“Toby-“ Annie started, and her voice caught in her throat again. God, could she get through a single conversation without crying tonight? “I’m sorry, I- I just didn’t know where to go. I hope I didn’t wake you…”

TOBY

In turn, Toby was taking in her person. It was concerning, seeing her make-up as it did and the dirt on her feet, the hem of her dress. It certainly made him feel very guilty for still thinking about how beautiful she looked. Especially when her voice came out sounding like that. Clearly something was wrong. He had known that because she was here instead of where she was supposed to be, but everything together made him start thinking something horrible had happened.

It was Swynlake Prom after all.

“That’s alright! That’s not- important. Are you okay?” he asked, then, quickly moved out of the way and taking the door with him. “Forgive me, would you like to come in?”

It felt wrong to make her continue to stand there. And who knew who would come out of the elevator or stairwell next. She probably didn’t want to be seen at his door.

ANNIE

“Oh- oh yeah,” Annie said, stepping inside, very aware of the dirty she was tracking into his spotless flat. It smelled nice in here, like it’d just been cleaned. Maybe Toby had stuck with his plan to clean the place after all, or maybe he really did keep the place this tidy.

Annie had never been over here before, so she didn’t know. But the image made her smile— Toby, wiping down surfaces and playing his music as loudly as he wanted to.

For a moment, she just stood there, as though she wasn’t quite sure how she’d gotten here. And then it occurred to Annie how weird this was. How concerning it probably looked. Showing up at Toby’s door looking like something that had been fished out of the gutter with no explanation for him.

She looked into his eyes, concern written all over his face, and Annie couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I just- I just wanted it to be enough!” Annie blurted out, bursting into tears again. All the emotions she’d been holding back ever since she’d left Gaston at the castle came rushing back, and Annie couldn’t stop the flood. She sniffled loudly. “I don’t know if I can do it anymore, Toby. I just don’t know.”

TOBY

When he turned around, shutting the door behind her, Toby was thinking the same thing. That she had never been to his flat before. He had only ever been to her home. But that was because he hadn’t wanted her anywhere near here when the demon was around. And then…well, there was never any reason for her to come over. They always met out and he had a flatmate that would have made meeting here for work a bit awkward probably.

He hovered, unsure, about to ask if she wanted something to drink or to sit down, but suddenly she was talking once more. And crying. Toby stepped closer but stopped before he could breach any personal bubble, hands coming together to keep from reaching out to touch her. He had never seen her like this. The closest had been near and around the custody case but this was… He couldn’t even piece together what she was saying. It made his chest ache, desperate to fix it. If only he knew what it was.

“Do what anymore?” he tried, voice soft in response to her obvious pain. “What happened?”

ANNIE

This was pathetic, Annie realized. Showing up to her coworker’s house in the middle of the night like this, crying because a guy she didn’t even love didn’t love her.

Except it wasn’t just her coworker. It was Toby.

She wiped at her eyes, sniffling. “Sorry, that- that didn’t make any sense,” she apologized. “It’s all- it’s all quite silly. I just- Gaston and I had this fight. It wasn’t his fault. Really. I just- I just feel like rubbish, and I thought- well, you- I-“ Annie was slipping into her accent again. “You make me feel like… not that.”

TOBY

Toby looked away from her to search for where he’d put- ah. He stepped off to get to the tissue box that sat on the table beside the couch. Spring had passed by, but there always seemed to be something in the air that would trigger a bout of allergies for him. So there was always a box around. He plucked two of the top, one after the other, and returned to hold them out to her.

He had been listening the whole time, brow furrowing at the reasoning. She’d had a fight with her boyfriend. Presumably at the dance. Oh dear. Toby didn’t really believe that it wasn’t Gaston’s fault, because how could that be when Ms. Tremaine seemed so devastated by whatever it had been over? Busy thinking about all of this, he almost missed her last statement. It made him blink, looking up to see if this was said with sincerity.

Because…how could that be? How could she feel better around him when all he had done, for however long, was make her feel uncomfortable?

He decided to focus on what actually mattered, which was why she was so upset.

“It’s not silly if you’re this upset over it. What happened?” he asked. “That is, if you wish to tell me. You don’t have to- if it will make it worse.”

ANNIE

Annie took the tissues, smiling weakly. Then she blew her nose in a loud, decidedly not-weak way. It was embarrassing, but it wasn't like Annie really had any of her dignity left at this point.

Once, she might have hesitated to tell Toby because he was a reporter, and he sought out salacious stories for the paper— it was how he made his living. Annie had helped him report on many such stories, after all. But ever since she'd asked him not to tell anyone about her custody battle, and he'd respected that, she had complete trust in him. Not something Annie could say about a lot of people.

"I guess- honestly, the details aren't important," Annie said, wiping her eyes with the remaining tissues. She looked around for a wastebin to drop the used ones in and spotted a neat, recently-cleaned one right next to the couch. This place was just so… tidy.

She walked over to drop the issues in the wastebasket and then sat down. "Sorry, do you mind if I- these things were killing my feet," Annie said, holding up her long-abandoned gold heels to demonstrate.

Annie took a deep, ragged breath. "Anyway… I guess we just don't see things going the same way. He wants to keep things c-casual, and I- well, I thought he liked me, you know? So I thought he'd change his mind eventually and want to be serious, and not want to see other people. But tonight made it very clear that that's just not happening. And- look, he's not perfect, we all have our things, but I could be happy with him. I'm sure I could. I just…" Annie shook her head, tears smarting again. "He's basically my only option, and I can't even get him to choose me! How fucked is that!"

She rubbed her face with her hands. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear all of this, do you?"

TOBY

It didn’t bother Toby at all, seeing as he did it all time it was perfectly normal to him, and no doubt relieving to get it all out. He nodded, gesturing awkwardly to the seat that, yes! Yes, of course she could sit. He should have invited her to as soon as she came in, but he had been so worried about her it hadn’t even come to mind. And now that she was sitting he lingered, shifting his weight as he tried to decide where he should sit.

Eventually he settled on the chair that sat parallel to the sofa where she was so as not to crowd her.

He listened intently, frown deepening as she continued. At this point he was wide awake, no longer dredged in unconscious confusion. How on earth she could have said it wasn’t D’Avenant’s fault was beyond Toby. But more than that, she making it sound like D’Avenant was some sort of last option for her. That without him there was no one else in the entire world that could make her happy.

“Of course I do,” he said quickly, dismissing the notion that it was ever a bother to listen to her. Even if this was the subject. “But- Ms. Treamine, surely you know that you shouldn’t have to make yourself be happy with someone. You should just be happy, which you of all people deserve to be. And from the looks of it, he does not make you happy. Nor, may I add, does he seem to care about that either since you made it all the way here without him coming after you.”

ANNIE

Well, that last part was certainly true. Gaston was probably already off with some other girl by now. And Annie had really thought that she could make peace with that idea, that she had been through so much heartbreak with Charlie that she was immune to it by now.

But being happy in the way Toby was talking about— being really, truly in love with someone, and knowing they loved you too— she just didn't think it was an option at this point. And Annie had thought she could get Gaston at least to want to be with her, even if he didn't love her, but apparently even that was too much to ask.

"That's really nice of you to say, Toby, but-" Wasn't that why she had come here? He always told her what she wanted to hear. Tonight, though, it just made her sad— like maybe she'd tricked him or something. "But it's not really that simple. I mean, my reputation is pretty bad around here, and even people who would see past that probably don't want to date someone with kids, or they want someone prettier, or with more money, or- I don't need to give you the whole list, you get the picture. And I want to be one of those people who's happy alone, I did the whole independent woman shtick for a couple of years after my divorce, but it's really fucking lonely…"

Annie choked up again and reached for another tissue. "The point is, I think I gave you the wrong impression. I let you believe I'm, like, this confident, powerful person with tons of options, but I'm really not."

TOBY

Toby had no idea what words had been exchanged between Ms. Tremaine and D’Avenant, but clearly something more than she was saying had happened because this was…it was devastating to witness. To listen to. He felt emotion welling up in his throat, making it feel tight.

Because she was right, in a sense. She had presented herself as someone who was all of those things, but after a while, he had grown to know her. Especially after the story about her ex-husband. There was a reason she felt she had to be those things, because how else was one supposed to react to pain other than building up barriers to protect themselves against the possibility of it again?

“No,” he shook his head. “You are so much more than that.”

After their conversion in the office Toby had sworn up and down to himself she wouldn’t say anything like that again. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t just sit there and allow her to believe all of the things she was saying when it wasn’t true. So what? So her edges were showing, jagged and fragile with the wounds of the night. If anything it endeared him to her all the more. How could anyone think otherwise?

“I know you’re not those things all of the time but that’s fine! That’s-! …the human condition. But you never gave me the wrong impression. You are confident, just like you’re clever and petty and eager and bossy and warm and-” He could have kept on but stopped himself, starting again. “The point is, you’re you. And that should be enough for anyone. I know you’ve been wronged by these men, but you can’t take that as a reflection on yourself. That’s on them. Because they have no idea what they’ve let go. And I know that when you find a man you deem worthy of you, that he’ll understand what I mean. He will never treat you like all these others have because…he’ll know he was never worthy of you, but he’s going to do everything in his power to try to be.”

ANNIE

Annie stared at Toby. And it wasn't fair. Because how was she supposed to keep denying her feelings for him when he went ahead and said things like that?

Did he know? Did he know what he was doing? Did it occur to him that his words had that power, that they could wrap around her like an embrace, even if Toby and Annie weren't touching? He named all these things about her and they weren't all positive, but the way he said them, he made them sound like they were. Because he was saying them, and he liked her anyway.

"Toby, I-" Annie struggled to find her words. More tears rolled down her cheeks. "I have to tell you something."

There it was. No going back now. And if this ruined things, if he was scared off forever or if it ruined their friendship, well, hadn't Annie already done that by showing up at his flat in this state?

"Ever since our conversation the other night. The one when you walked me home, when I had a bit too much wine, I'm sorry about that— I know what I felt, though, and it was real, I— the way you talk about things, the way you see the world, the way you see people, and the way you see me— I feel- I am-"

Annie swallowed, trying to stop her stammering. "I thought if I could be with Gaston, I could make it go away, because I didn't want to ruin our working relationship, or our friendship. But I have to tell you, Toby— when you talk like that, you make it really hard for me not to feel these- feelings for you."

There. She'd said it.

"But- but you don't have to- if you were just talking hypothetically- I understand if- you know- anyway- I'm sorry-" Annie added, uncharacteristically awkward in her speech. What a pickle she'd just put him in, right?

TOBY

Toby wanted to do something more. To reach forward and wipe the freshly fallen tears away. To take her hand between his own. For the first time, he understood what people meant when they said words weren’t enough. Instead he remained in his seat, watching her, his fingers laced together tightly so they would stay put.

He knew what she was going to say. It had been coming on for a while. In fact, he was surprised she had remained in contact with him for as long as she had. Right from the start it had been a wonder she had chosen him to talk to at the Squire. Then to work with. Then to call a friend. He had gotten too greedy in his desire for connection. His first real find of it and now he had gone and ruined it. But he couldn’t say he regretted it. At least he had experienced it. At least she knew it was possible for someone to care about her, she just needed to find the person she could love in return, too.

Toby looked down at his hands when she started talking about the other night. The one where he thought she’d discovered him. Here it comes, he thought, bracing for the impact, eyes closed.

Except it was not quite the blow he had been preparing for. Feelings for you, she said. As in… Toby slowly raised his head, eyes finding hers, searching. It seeming so impossible he could hardly think on it too long before she was saying something else, implying that he didn’t have to reciprocate. But surely…? This whole time he thought she had to have….why else would she…?

Toby let out a breath, eyebrows creasing as he looked at her with fondness and awe because maybe she didn’t see it. After all she had said tonight, maybe it wasn’t impossible to think she had not noticed.

“Anastasia, don’t you know? I’ve been half in love with you since we met,” he said, regretting that it had only been in the past few weeks that he had fully understood his feelings for her, back where it had started, sitting across from her in the tea shoppe.

ANNIE

It was like the breath had been knocked out of Annie. All this time? Since they'd met? Annie's mind raced through all the years, all the memories together— but of course. There was never a time when he wasn't there for her, when he hadn't looked out for her or had her back. It was like putting on a pair of glasses and suddenly seeing everything in focus.

Half in love with her since they'd met. Toby really did have a way with words, didn't he?

One in particular, actually. Because he called her Anastasia again, and she just about melted.

"Oh- Toby." Annie didn't know what her plan was, really, with what she did next. She launched herself off of the couch, maybe to grab his hand or something or just be closer to him, but she tripped over the hem of her floor-length dress and wound up crashing into the chair as she tried to catch herself on the arm of it. Annie laughed, though some tears leaked out too. "Sorry, I- I don't know what that was."

TOBY

Even after what she had said, Toby was still scared that he had said too much with that. He also was not entirely sure what to do next. He had never done anything like this before. It was by some miracle or the very grace of God that she decided he was at all suitable for her feelings and he didn’t know where the limit was. He seemingly had none, his heart an insatiable thing of constant hunger for whatever it wanted. Right now, all it wanted was whatever she was willing to give.

He didn’t really have time to react as she came forward, also not sure as to what she was going to do, only leaned back into the cushion of the chair. His hands separated from one another, raising up as if to catch her but she did that herself so his hands were left to hover at her sides. He smiled at her laughter, it feeling like a splash of water, before he realized just how close she was to him.

“That’s alright,” he said, voice quiet. With hesitant movements he reached up. Although he was quite desperate to touch her he didn’t know if it would break whatever this moment was. Because maybe it was one of those Swynlake dreams, they had been married in one before after all. Or maybe it was just one of his own. He didn’t want to wake up either way. Toby swallowed before brushing the back of his knuckles across her cheek, clearing away the fallen tears, eyes tracking the movement as his skin felt hers.

ANNIE

Toby had told her that he'd been half in love with her since they had met, but that wasn't the case for Annie. In fact, when she'd first met him, she'd completely written him off— a dork whom it wouldn't be hard at all to manipulate so that she could get a good story written about her, the job she wanted, a friend at all when the Squire office intimidated her. Annie had thought she held all the power. And she'd thought that was a good thing at the time.

But as time went on, that perception had changed. Slowly, so slowly that Annie hadn't even realized until it was far too late. Yes, he was dorky, and that was something Annie liked about him, even if she wasn't sure her Nashville friends would understand it (or that her past self would understand it, honestly). The way he lost control of his rolling office chair sometimes or kept his abandoned story ideas in a Google Drive folder called "the graveyard."

And in this moment, the back of Toby's hand gently brushing against her cheek, the kindness in his eyes, Annie realized something else— she didn't need to hold all of the power in a relationship. She didn't even really want to. Maybe it was better to know that someone could break your heart and trust they wouldn't.

Annie reached one hand up to her cheek to hold Toby's hand there. It felt warm and solid against her cheek. Just like him— not that she'd ever been this close to him before, but Annie was suddenly desperate to find out.

"Toby…" She blinked, leaning closer, heart pounding as her face hovered slightly above his. "Can I- do you want to…"

TOBY

It had always marveled him when she reached out toward him and made contact. With his hand, his shoulder, when she had hugged him. Since leaving his family, people hardly touched him. If they did it was by accident or necessity, never because they decided to all on their own. But Ms. Tremaine did. Another wonder that he didn’t know if he would ever come to fully understand.

She had her hand against his and while it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar it was still something he looked at with surprise. Now her palm and fingers suddenly felt like a massive weight. As if being touched, even when it seemed to be given out of affection, was unbearable despite how long he had gone without it.

He had been so consumed with watching the way her fingers looked and moved against his that he hadn’t noticed her leaning that move closer. Her voice saying his name dragged his eyes away to find hers and then, at her half questions, traveled down to find her mouth. Toby swallowed and forced himself to make eye contact again because that probably wasn’t what she was asking. He didn’t actually know what she was asking, mind too muddied to try figuring it out because whatever it was she wanted he probably wanted it, too. Even if he didn’t, he would still give it to her.

Toby nodded.

ANNIE

Annie rested her other hand on Toby's shoulder, his soft t-shirt. And then, very slowly, as though looking for any signal she had misread this—

(She rarely moved so slowly— with Gaston, everything was hungry and fast-paced. But there was a pleasure, Annie was finding, to taking one's time).

—Annie's eyes fluttered shut and she closed the space between them, gently pressing her lips to his. He was warm and solid, just as Annie had thought he might be. But softer, too, than she'd realized.

TOBY

Toby’s eyes fell, only half lidded when she kissed him, unwilling to part with the sight of her just yet. He wanted to know every inch of sensation, including the way she looked this close. Her eyelashes, wet and clumped by make-up, and the way her hair fell forward with her. It was only when the sensation of her lips on his got so overwhelming that they shut completely, but that merely made the touch all he could focus on.

Soft was what the kissed remained, as he didn’t want to press any further than that. As much as he may have wanted to, she had been through a lot tonight. This was enough. Even if she left and changed her mind, came to her senses, and never spoke to him again come the morning, he wouldn’t regret that this was what he had been gifted.

Instead he brought his other hand up to the side of her neck to keep her from moving away as he pulled back, eyes still closed, so he could press their foreheads together. He was content to simply be near her, to be able to breathe her in. Attempting to soak up the feeling of her proximity while he could.

ANNIE

Annie had meant what she said when she'd told Gaston she wasn't in the mood to sleep with him tonight, or anyone for that matter. It wasn't just about him. She was tired, mentally and physically and emotionally. And as much as Annie enjoyed what she and Gaston did together, there was always an element of performance to it, at least on Annie's part. She felt like she had to make herself enticing, like she could get a good score in a hookup. And that took energy that Annie just didn't have tonight.

But this— this, Annie felt she could do all night. Her forehead pressed against Toby's, her eyes closed, breathing in the detergent smell she'd wondered about earlier. There was no performance to it, just quiet, gentle intimacy. Intimacy that Annie realized she'd felt with him from the moment she'd read his abandoned story about the man in the park— no, longer than that, from the moment she'd told him the truth about the custody suit. Maybe longer. All of it leading them to now.

She opened her eyes again and smiled. "Hi," Annie said, maybe a little bit shyly, uncharacteristic for her. "Was that, uh, okay?"

TOBY

As if able to feel her gaze on him, Toby opened his eyes to be met with her smile. Her greeting. It made him smile, too, before falling into the depths of disbelief of all that was happening. It still didn’t feel quite real. Nothing like this had ever happened to him and he had never expected it to, but here it was all the same.

“Hi,” he echoed and then before he could answer her question with the probably never ending string of compliments that would have poured out of him, concerned crossed over his features. He pulled back another few inches so he could look at her properly, letting their still joined hands at her cheek fall between them. He didn’t let go, pulling it toward himself to rest against his chest, didn’t think to in the haste to ask, “Was…was that okay for you?”

Because he could have done something wrong. He didn’t know. It seemed a more likely thing than him having done anything right, especially in regards to…this.

ANNIE

Annie's smile widened. She felt like a kid again, giddy.

"More than okay," she replied. Annie already knew she wouldn't forget that kiss for a long, long time. Maybe ever. "It was… very good."

For a long time, Annie didn't move, she just leaned against the arm of the chair and looked at Toby and felt his heart beating steadily under his t-shirt, not quite believing what was happening.

"You, um- you too?"

TOBY

He breathed out in relief, shoulders dropping with it. His smile grew softer as the silence lingered, and not in a bad way. Not in the way he thought it had for these past days since that night. There didn’t feel like anything needed to be said now, because he felt he could already hear her despite her not saying anything at all.

It gave him more time to admire her, the hand on her neck moving to brush the hair on that side back behind her ear, fingers running down the length of it.

“Me?” he questioned, bemused that she should even think to ask after him. Wanting to convince her, he began rambling instead of thinking of something tolerable to say, “I- yes. Of course. Nothing could compare, nothing- nothing will feel the same after that. I’m still not convinced I’m not asleep right now. You are the dream.”

ANNIE

Annie shivered pleasantly at the gentle touch. Don’t stop, she thought, as though he could read her mind.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time,” she said, referring to that magical medieval dream from a few years ago when they’d been married, which they’d oddly never really spoken about.

(Of course, it wasn’t so odd, knowing what Annie knew now).

She blushed, realizing it might have sounded like she was insinuating something else, though. “I mean— that dream, when we were Lord and Lady Bookworm or whatever it was. Do you remember that?”

TOBY

That made his skin grow warm, too, rising from his neck up to his cheeks, thinking exactly what it sounded like. But that she had meant him. Because it was true.

In fact, thinking about it, it may have always been true. Even before they had even met and he had come to Swynlake where the magic seeped into even that portion of one’s life. He had dreamed of someone whose hand he could hold without them recoiling and someone who would listen to him when he talked. Now here she was, and better than any dream his mind could have created.

But then she clarified and, oh. Toby nodded. A new wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over him, making the heat on his skin burn that much warmer. “Yes but those weren’t exactly the best circumstances.”

ANNIE

“I still think we made a rather good team, didn’t we?” Annie said. “And that was right around the time we put out that article about Dian Morey and Princess Elena. You know, I was quite amazed by you that day, the way you told off the security guard. I don’t think I realized until that moment, how… handsome you are when you’re confident like that.”

She brushed some of his hair to one side with the hand that had been resting on his shoulder, smiling fondly.

TOBY

Toby couldn’t deny that, they had been just that. Even if he had acquired her companionship in that world through necessity on her part and opportunity on his, it had felt like they were on the same page. Just like in this life.

He balked at her compliment. It was rare that he was bestowed one and when it did it certainly was not in reference to his appearance. But she was being sincere, so he couldn’t even contest the point without invalidating her word, which he would never do. A breath of disbelief left him at the smile she had on her features, directed at him. He had to look away, overwhelmed by it and her touch.

“Well, I couldn’t have done that without you. You made a very compelling speech,” he said. “But yes. We do make a good team.”

Which, like a hefty rock being tossed into the peaceful water they had been floating on, reminded him of work. Of them being co-workers. Of everything that was going to be beyond the door to the flat in the morning.

ANNIE

Annie wasn’t thinking of that now. It would occur to her later, much later, but right now, she was still basking in the glow of the moment. She smiled.

“My mum has the kids for the night. I don’t have to go home,” she said. “I mean- unless, uh, I guess your roommate will probably be home…”

Not that Annie had any grand plans for the night. She just imagined she could do this all night, sitting here and talking and looking in each other’s eyes.

TOBY

Toby hummed with acknowledgement in regards to Lucky, about to check the wrist where his watch usually resided only to realize it was still on his bedside table. Same as his phone. So he had no way of knowing what time it was to guess as to whether his flatmate’s night, and date for that matter, was going well and if they had time.

It did not even occur to him that she might be concerned about his thoughts on her staying longer, or even the whole night. As if he would object to more time spent in her presence.

“Yes, and I doubt anything I own would be comfortable for you,” he said, glancing down at her dress. The thought had jumped about five steps ahead in semantics but he was thinking about how tired she was, and how no one wanted to sleep in something with dirt on it if they didn’t have to. “I’ll leave it up to you. I wouldn’t want to strand you here without something to sleep in.” Then he managed to hear his blunder and tried to correct it. “Or- er, to change into.”

ANNIE

It wasn't like Annie would really have minded. Her original plan, after all, had been to go back to Gaston's, and he much preferred her when she didn't have any clothes on at all. Most nights she spent there, she just pulled on her dress from the night before when she left the next morning, carrying her shoes. Occasionally, she stole something out of his closet, but never because it was particularly comfortable— just because she thought he might get something out of it. She always ended up giving it back before she left, anyway.

So the thought of Toby lending her pajamas— well, it was just very sweet. And very him.

"What, you don't think I can pull this style off?" Annie teased, poking at his t-shirt. She did wonder what Toby's things would look like on her. What they would feel like. Would they smell like him?

Well- maybe that was a thought for another time.

"I'm just teasing," she added. "I'll get out of your hair. We can talk more tomorrow, okay?"

Annie made no move to get up, though. She just remained there, leaning against the chair, one hand on Toby's shoulder, the other on his heart.

TOBY

He looked down at his shirt, as if unaware and needing a reminder of what he was wearing, before smiling at what he assumed was a joke since, in his opinion, she could no doubt embody any type of clothing. She had worn leaves and dirt and the brutal night very beautifully.

What she said next made his smile falter slightly.

“Don’t say it like that,” he said, voice quiet again, like she had wounded him with the implication that she was some sort of burden. “You’ll always be welcome wherever I am.”

He had the impulse again to punctuate this somehow and then realized that it seemed like he could act on that now. So he did. Toby picked up their still woven hands, that had been pressed together so long he had forgotten they were two separate things at all, to briefly press her knuckles to his lips.

ANNIE

Annie smiled, the gesture, the light touch of Toby's lips on her hand sending little electrical currents through her. She'd long understood that there was really nobody else like Toby Determined. But this was a new side of him. Annie felt a little bit like she'd been dropped into the new Bridgerton season she'd spent yesterday binge-watching while she did work around the house. But she hadn't thought that could be real.

"Aw, Toby," Annie said softly, before learning in to kiss him again briefly. "I should go. The Uber prices probably calmed down by now…"

TOBY

He blinked after she pulled away, dazed at how easy that had seemingly been. Toby didn’t know if he was ever going to get used to it. That was, if there would be time to. But she had said they would speak tomorrow and he didn’t want to keep her from getting any needed sleep.

“Right,” he said and cleared his throat, reluctant to let her go. From his hold, from the flat. But, hopefully, there would be more of this to come. Toby moved to stand, waiting for her to follow so he could walk her to the door at least.

ANNIE

Annie could have stayed there all night, continuing to prattle on about Uber prices, but she knew this was probably for the best. Right now, it really did feel like a dream, like Toby had said. Once she had a shower and a good night's sleep, it would be real— or it would all be a dream, either one.

She slid back to her feet and picked up the shoes, taking her phone out of her purse to call the Uber. Still much more expensive than it should have been, but oh well. Worth it.

"Barry will be here in six minutes," Annie said, looking up from her phone as she walked with Toby to the door. "Thank you for everything, Toby. Really. This went from the worst prom ever to, well, definitely the best in a long time."

TOBY

He nodded, wondering if maybe he should offer to go with her to the ground floor but knew that was just an excuse. It was best he stay and let her go now, otherwise he would be tempted to ask for more and push too far. He already wandered so far over the line, there was no need to plead farther.

Toby smiled and shook his head, waving away her gratitude. It hardly seemed earned. He had done nothing more than what he felt he had always done. If anything, he should be thanking her for all that she had said, all she had given. The latter statement did make his chest fill, heart oozing something sweet and warm with the knowledge that a moment spent alone in his flat had not only compared to such an event as prom, but had beaten it, too.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Sleep well.”

ANNIE

"You too," Annie replied reluctantly. She lingered in the doorway a moment longer, impulsively kissed him on the cheek, and then it was down the hall, into the elevator, into Barry's car, and back to her quiet, dark house.

As she locked the door behind her, as she shed her dusty dress and showered and changed into pajamas, Annie couldn't help wondering if she could have stayed. If she could have insisted on one of Toby's old t-shirts, if he would have held her in his arms into the night. If he would have minded her snoring. If he would have made her breakfast or if he'd want her to do it. The thoughts carried her into bed and under the covers.

She didn't do what Toby asked, though. She didn't sleep a wink.

[newmiriamsmysteries]

[Blurb - "My Name Is..."]

The Officer looked at me intently from across the table.  His cheeks were puffed and red from carrying around his hefty frame.  His belly hung over his belt, his shoulders nearly broke the seams on the suit jacket he wore.  He was definitely a desk cop.  A manila file folder sat open before him, I could see my own mugshot and criminal record looking back at me.

Nathaniel stood by the door looking defiant at my being there.  His arms crossed over his chest and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  His tie was loose and hung around his neck.  His hair was a mess from too many nights of sleeping on the couch in his office.

  “Let’s try this again,”  The Nameless Cop began.  I sat back in my seat, my teeth clenched and eyes narrowed.  This was not how I wanted to spend my Friday night -

“What’s your name?”  The Cop asked me, I kept silent and glanced at James.  The Detective nodded but offered no words. 

“My name is Miriam Wallace,” I said flatly.  

“Can you tell me, Ms. Wallace, what it is you do?”  The Cop questioned. 

“Miss.  It’s Miss Wallace.”  I replied, the Cop huffed but didn’t comment.  “I’m a Private Investigator.  My License number is 137596.”

“Go on.”  The Cop said.

“You want more?”  I asked, my eyes widened.  I took his silence to mean he did.  “I was born in Louisiana to Detective Robert Wallace and his wife, Monica. I have one older brother and one older sister. I moved to Williamsport when I was eighteen years old.”

“I am told by Detective Walton,”  The Cop said, gesturing his eyes to Nathan who hadn’t moved from his post by the door.  “That you are on Retainer for this very Police Department as a Crime Scene Investigator and Paranormal Consultant?” His eyebrows raised as he read the last part.  

“I can see ghosts.”  I shrugged.  “I also move in Paranormal circles.  I know Williamsport’s resident Vampire Clan and Werewolf Pack.  So if that’s all -  I’d like to get going, I’m late for dinner.” I started to get up.

“Uh-uh.  Sit down.”  The Cop said.  I sighed and did.  

“Captain, I don’t think this questioning is necessary.”  Nathan finally spoke up.  “I can make a full report of the situation for you.  There’s no need to keep her any longer.” 

“You would go to bat for your pet freak, wouldn’t you, Walton?”  The Captain said and looked back at me, “You were found standing over the body of a murdered man outside of an underground club known as ‘Heartbeat’.  Gunpowder residue on your hand.  Care to explain it.”

“Self defense,”  I said with another shrug.  My eyes narrowed as he called me a ‘freak’ and anger flared in my chest.  

“He was a Vampire, he was coming for me, I shot him,”  I added evenly.  

“But if he was a ‘Vampire’, how is he dead in my Morgue?”  The Cop asked.  

“My gun fires specially made silver bullets, forged in Holy Ash from the Local Catholic Diocese.  One perfectly aimed shot - one dead Vampire.” 

“You don’t get it, do you?  You’re under some serious charges, Detective.  You’ve got a murder wrap hanging over your head and all I have to do is say the word.  You’ll be on trial by next week and dead a week later.”  The Captain threatened.  

I stood up, put my hands on the table, and leaned forward.  “No, Captain, you don’t get it.”  My voice was cold and even. My anger had turned to rage as it grew within me and I didn’t like the feeling.

“I can read you like an open book.  I can feel everything you’re feeling.  I know everything you’re thinking.  You’re scared.  You don’t want to believe in the monsters.  You want to close your eyes and forget they exist.  Well, guess what, pal, I am one of those monsters.  The only reason why this city is still standing is because of me.  If anything happens to me, not only would you have the Alpha of the Wailing Moon Pack on your ass; but you’d also have Vampires making meals out of the very citizens you swore to protect.  Do you want that... Captain?”  

Nathaniel sighed and put his face in his palm.  The Captain stood up and met me face to face.  I wasn’t expecting that.  “Sit.  Down.”  He growled.  

I pushed back off of the table, grabbed my leather jacket from the back of my chair, and shrugged it on over the little black dress and tall boots I’d been wearing.  

“Catch me if you can,”  I said before pushing past Nathaniel and leaving the interrogation room.

[paleparearchive]

Enchanted by the Magic of Art

Mucha's Halloween 4★ story (1/3) ( 1 - 2 - 3 )

Location: museum reception (morning) | Characters: Mucha, Courbet, Monet, Raffaello, Sisley, Watteau, Aoi/MC

Mucha: Miss deputy director, is this all the candy for the children?

Aoi: The box I just gave you will be all of it! ... Did I buy too much?

Mucha: Probably… I have no idea how many people the Halloween parade will attract, so I do not know… But if we have a surplus, we can make it a novelty and organize a campaign. These are special snacks, and we cannot let them go to waste.

Well then... Is it time to open the museum?

Aoi: Yes! Well then, everyone, I look forward to working with you today!

Mucha: Yes. Distribute them well and try to attract customers for the Halloween parade.

Watteau: You're kinda stiff. Let's just have fun! That's fine, ain't it?

Mucha: Fufu, you are right. Let us have fun.

—

Children in costume: Trick or treat! Give me candy or I'll play a trick!

Sisley: Don't play tricks. Now, I'll give you this candy–

Monet: That's right! I'll eat the kids who misbehave!

Children in costume: Uwaah!!! Scarred face, scary…!

Monet: Uh, you mean my makeup…!? I'm not scary!

Children in costume: Stop following us! Noo!

Monet: Ah! Don't you want some candy!? If ya leave it here, I'll eat it myself, y'know!?

Sisley: M-Monet… You can't do that, you know…?

—

Children in costume: Uwaah! Scarred face is scary!!

Raffaello: Hello there, where are you going in such a hurry? Everyone's costumes are cute.

Children in costume: A-A demon…!?

Raffaello: Oh, what is the matter? I do not want you playing tricks on me so, here, would you like some sweets?

Children in costume: NOOOO!! Demon, scary!! We don't like those horns!

Raffaello: Fufu. It is quite a new experience to be able to see someone escape like this.

Aoi: R-Raffaello-san… Looks like you're having a lot of fun…

—

Children in costume: KYAAAA!!

Mucha: What is wrong? Do not run in the museum.

Child in a princess costume: Ah… It's the wizard lady! Help us, the monsters are after us!

Mucha: … Lady?

No, that is okay. The monsters here are harmless, so you will be fine.

Child in a princess costume: Really…?

Mucha: Yes. It is true. Nobody will do anything dangerous to you.

Children in costume: If you say so, miss, then we believe you! Hey hey miss, can you use magic!?

Mucha: I believe I cannot do that… But in my hands, any naughty child will quickly turn into a good child in no time.

Monet: Oh, there ya are. Here, don't forget your sweets!

Children in costume: Aaaah, it's the scary scarred face guy!!

Mucha: Monet-san. Could you please stop there for a moment?

Monet: Huh? … Like this?

Children in costume: Woah, amazing!! The scary guy has spoken! I bet he's one of your minions, miss!

Monet: I'm not a minion!

Children in costume: Kyaa!

Mucha: Monet-san. Don't scare our little guests too much.

Monet: A-Alright…! Sorry.

I mean, ain’t your smile somewhat scarier!?

Mucha: Fufu, it must be your imagination. After all, if you do not do anything wrong, I will not do anything to you.

Children in costume: Miss, you're amazing! Hey hey, do that werewolf and that devil work for you too!?

Mucha: About those two… Well, what do you say?

Courbet: I'm not a minion and neither a werewolf.

Raffaello: Fufu. Mucha-kun, you are being treated like a big sister by the children.

Sisley: But it suits him very well. I mean, he doesn't find it uncomfortable being considered as a real witch…

Watteau: Well, in Sisley's case, it's not strange to be mistaken for a priest.

Mucha: Alright. There will be a Halloween parade in the afternoon, so please look forward to it, everyone. Before that, let me take you on a tour of the museum's exhibits. Please take your time to look around.

And here is some Halloween candy for you. However, you cannot play tricks after eating these, fufufu.