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vulcanhugsclub · 3 years ago

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A Blizzard That Almost Caused Vulcan Pneumonia

Ship: AOS Spirk

Rating: G

A/N: This is a fluffy little short I wrote a long time ago and decided to publish on here so here ya go and enjoy!

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"I had warned you previous to the storm about the upcoming weather-"

"Spock, shut up shut up shut up!"

"Dammit, Jim! There's no need to shout!" Another voice said from across the room.

"Then why are you yelling!?"

"YOU BOTH ARE ACTING LIKE DOOFUSES THAT'S WHY!"

Uhura was rolling her eyes from where she sat at the counter, Chekov sipping hot cocoa with both hands next to her, and Sulu was just hyping them up. Then there was Scotty, sneaking more whiskey into his coffee and Ms. Chapel, who was trying(and failing) to make them stop fighting.

The truth was they all came over to celebrate Jim's new apartment but instead got snowed in.

This blizzard was worse than ever, and already there was a thick layer of snow on the ground.

"Human logic is so irrational. You knew about the weather, you preceded to hold this assembly and now you're angry about it?" Spock gave Jim one of his famous 'why u so stupid' looks.

"I'm soooooRRRY that I am not a logical piece of metal and didn't plan ahead!"

"That's what normal people do."

Jim swore Spock rolled his eyes, but maybe it was a trick of the light.

"Ok, yeah," Mccoy waved his hand in between the bickering pair. "Still here, guys!"

They both looked at him, one of them glaring(the other glaring less obviously).

"Thank you." He paused, wishing he were anywhere but with these dorks. "What's the plan?"

"Oh boys, will you knock it off?" Ms. Chapel nearly shouted. Even in anger, her voice was smooth and motherly, unlike the trio.

All three men turned to her, more in surprise but were interrupted by a large banging that echoed through the whole apartment. The electricity shuttered out, as it had been for the past hour, but this time it permanently flickered off.

"What was that?" Christine looked around wearily, as everyone was searching across the room for the problem.

Scotty was the first to move, walking to the thermostat. he pressed a few buttons, and with each second he became visibly more agitated. "It's not working. We've lost our heat."

Everyone murmured quietly, and thank god the lights were out because Spock grew very pale.

-----1 hour later------------------

"Scotty, how's the heat coming?" Kirk asked from one of the couches, holding a shivering figure curled into his side.

"It's doin' somethin'" Scotty sighed as he was pulling apart the wiring of the thermostat.

Other than the engineer, the gang had migrated to the living room, sitting close together near the fireplace. They were all fine, for the most part, just wearing their coats and seemed pretty comfortable chatting. It was still cold enough to see their breath as they talked and exhaled.

Ms. Chapel and the doctor were snuggling together on the other couch, whispering about something and giggling. The trio(Uhura, Chekov, Sulu) were all close like penguins. The crackling fire was the only source of light in the whole apartment, and thankfully Jim was retro because it wasn't electric.

The bundle pressed against Jim Kirk shifted under the thick white blanket until a head surfaced. Spock's nose was bright green, the tips of his ears flushed. He was trembling violently, not used to Earth's freezing temper.

"Alright, love?" Jim chuckled, massaging his thumb against Spock's back.

He could only nod as the blonde leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Spock, you're freezing!" He gently pulled the Vulcan onto his lap, placing his hands on his hips to draw him closer. Jim had no problem with body heat.

He wasn't even wearing a coat.

Spock rested his head on the captain's shoulder, nuzzling his neck with his nose.

Jim almost hissed feeling his boyfriend's cold nose on his steaming neck, but instead placed his head on top of the little rabbit in his lap. He took a moment to admire how Spock could seem so tiny with this gigantic furry blanket.

Kirk didn't even mind that it felt like he was hugging an ice block.

They hadn't had a chance to address their dating rumors or disclose their relationship. Spock didn't want the crew to get any ideas about his 'emotional availability' as he put it.

"Vait, are you two a zing?" Chekov's voice brought him back to the dark living room.

The captain looked up to see everyone staring at them, some with wide eyes, some with 'I knew it' faces.

"That's where Spock went. I thought he was in the bathroom," Sulu said, and Uhura rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, he's been in the bathroom for 50 minutes."

"How long have you known?" Hikaru looked at her with narrowed eyes, even though he was grinning.

"3 months."

"Right," Kirk chuckled sheepishly, "We're relatively new." For two years. Better not tell them.

"Zat's vonderful!" Chekov smiled, his whole face lighting up. "I am so happy for you, keptin!"

"I canae believe it!" Scotty's head poked around the corner to the living room, vanishing again.

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones' voice came from the back of the room, even though he was smiling. "You're supposed to tell your best friend these kinds of things!"

Jim just enjoyed the way his friends reacted, smiling.

He couldn't ask for a better crew, let alone companions.

"Better?" Kirk redirected his attention back to Spock, looking down and seeing the first officer's eyes fluttering closed until he was sinking into a sound sleep. He could hear the tiniest and most adorable of snores coming from the Vulcan.

It took all of Jim's energy not to boop him.

The urge was too strong, and he pressed his nose gently against his boyfriend's. Spock 's eyes shot open and he inhaled deeply, addressing the room.

"Is there something wrong, captain?" He whispered, and everyone giggled in response.

Kirk leaned down, pressing his lips against one of the Vulcan's ears and whispered back, "I think it has to do with the fact that you are sleeping on my lap."

"Oh..." Jim took pleasure in seeing a slight blush reach Spock's cheeks. Then abruptly, the first officer grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his head, soon falling asleep against Kirk's chest once again. Now it just looked like there was a fluffy white mass in his arms, with no sign of the Vulcan other than slow breathing.

The gang ended up spending the whole night, and luckily for them, Jim had sleeping bags(because of course he did).

They all slept in the living room, after some argument about who would take the bed. Kirk and Spock cuddled up on one of the couches, Ms. Chapel and Mccoy on the other, Sulu, Chekov, Scotty, and Uhura in sleeping bags near the still-going fireplace. They were all asleep, leaving just the captain and the first officer.

"Do you think they mind...us...?" Spock asked after a while.

"It doesn't matter what they think," The blonde whispered back, tickled by Spock's hair against his nose. But that didn't seem to settle the Vulcan. "Why do you care what they think?"

"They are my friends, I value their opinion as much as I value yours."

"They are happy with us being happy."

Spock sighed and nuzzled against Jim, intertwining their fingers.

His voice was the last thing Kirk heard. "Goodnight, T'hy'la."

And the captain was washed away in a sleep so warm and cozy, it could have been summer.

#spirk #startrek #james t kirk #spock #bones mccoy #christine chapel #chekov #sulu #scotty #uhura #james t kirk/spock

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bangtae-sohotddaeng · 4 years ago

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we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 1

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 2.1 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

SIX MONTHS AGO

“Wait a second, really?” You blinked up at the Chief Editor, your boss, in wonder. “Heading this?”

The chocolate skinned, tall woman smiled at you. “Yes, heading this. I’d been looking to hand you something from a really long time, to be honest. This is just the right fit."

You grinned at her, hugging the contract file to your chest. In your thirteen months of employment at the publishing company, through the departmental transfer from HR to Editorial and then the promotion to the Associate Editor position, this was the best thing to happen to you, so far. You finally had a project you were gonna head. You would finally, finally get to handle things on your own—curate your own team, work on an individual project where you made all the decisions.

You breathed out, happily. “I’ll read this thoroughly and report back within an hour, boss. With my sign on it, in all likelihood.”

“I’m counting on it.” Your boss smiled at you.

You looked down at the file. You were going to work with a K-pop group on their auto-biography. You were gonna fly to fucking Korea, for six full months. This was huge. This was awesome. This was what you fucking needed, right now. Your best friend that you had been rooming with for a year was starting to get too comfortable. You were so not up for that kinda shit again.

You looked at the bottom of the front page. Athena had drawn up this contract. Your eyebrows arched. It was no secret that she was your boss’s favourite Acquisition Editor. Some even suspected they were having an affair, despite the gleaming diamond you could see—even right now—on the woman’s finger.

This project had to mean a lot to your boss. And she’d picked you to head it.

“This sounds big, boss,” you mumbled, leafing through the hefty files. You were gonna need a couple hours, maybe, to go through this properly. “And looks big, too.”

“It is big, Y/N. In all the ways. This idea had been brewing in my head for a really long time. I had Athena make the proposal to this K-pop group’s management company, a few months back, and they said yes. She and I had been brainstorming how to approach this. Those guys are pretty tight about their privacy and, um, well. Fraternising policies. It’s all in there, you’ll see.” She pointed a finger at the file in your hands. “We were finally able to draw up the contract with the company’s CEO and Manager. And you were the only one I had in mind when we thought up of building a team and having someone head it so that we don’t have to leave.”

You gave a small, delighted giggle. “Thank you so much, boss. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t.”

You got back to your desk and flipped to the first page of the file.

BTS

Your eyes bulged. You had been a busy—and irritable because of all the stupid shit that just constantly kept on happening in your personal life—woman during the past couple of years and really uninvested in anything and everything that had to do with entertainment. This past year had been especially rough ever since your move to the States. You freaking smoked pot when you needed to unwind, what could be worse than that.

But. But—before, when you were a normal, happy woman with a soul, BTS had been kind of a really humongous deal. Did that somehow change in the past couple of years? You strongly doubted it, recalling how huge they’d been growing worldwide, the last time you kept a check. Which you did like crazy.

You momentarily wondered if your boss would still have you as the first consideration if she knew about your crazy ARMY days…

You blinked, coming back from the mental journey, and turned the page. BigHit’s owner was still the same, obviously, but the group members now apparently had individual managers. You blinked, uncomfortable at the knowledge. Reading further, you found something that disturbed you even more.

All the BTS members were done with their Military Service, with Jungkook, Jimin and Namjoon having returned from it just this year.

You swallowed, thickly. A lot had changed in the world outside of the one you’d been living in, too, apparently.

You read through the terms and conditions and your duties, thoroughly. Few points were pretty obvious and things you’d been expecting, but some of them made you frown.

You brought one such issue to your boss’s acknowledgement when you were done reading the entire booklet of a contract, nearly two hours later. You were ready to sign the thing, otherwise.

“And? What about it?” Your boss blinked at you, unfazed.

You sighed, and lifted your left hand up, pointing at your empty ring finger. “No ring, no fiance, boss. They want the team members to be at least engaged. I’m as single as it gets.”

She chuckled at that. “Tell me honestly, are you unprofessional enough to fraternise on your job? Such a high profile one, at that?”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t think they’d care about what I think, boss, or that they’d even ask.”

Your boss gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, let me put it in a different way.” You tilted your head to show your interest. “What’s your opinion on relationships, in general?”

You grimaced, unable to help your knee-jerk response. But then you shrugged, trying not to scowl while you said the words you’d started to believe in since the past couple of years. “Well, as I’d informed you through my quite less-than-professional letter at the time of my joining, boss, I think relationships are pointless. Humans keeping relationships beyond professionalism with each other is pointless, actually, because with a personal attachment comes a buckload of expectations, and then it’s just a rabbit hole down the middle of the earth. At the end of which, we burn.”

Your boss seemed to be suppressing laughter. Did the moral of your life amuse her? “You actually quoted the letter word by word, there, Y/N.”

You sighed. “That wasn’t something I’d thought through when I mailed it, boss. The voice input tool turned my rants into a letter. And my frustration over your concerns about fraternising in the office made me mail it.”

Your boss nodded. “Well, I talked to BigHit’s manager over the phone. The company’s not the group’s,” she added when you frowned in confusion at the singular term. “I explained to him about where you stood—taking references from this letter—and explained to him why I needed my most valuable Associate on the team.”

Your cheeks heated up, both due to the huge praise and embarrassment over the exposure of your letter. “Oh, um. Thank you. I guess?”

“Ugh, sign the damn piece of paper and start collecting the damn team, Y/N!”

You’d resorted to staying back at the office till late hours just to avoid your roommate.

When you’d moved to the country, thirteen months back, and decided to share your decade old friend’s flat—feeling lucky as shit that he worked in the same city as you—you and him had been on the same page. You’d both been fed up with the concepts of relationships and entanglements, even the strictly-physical ones, and wanted to just burn away your youth on the grind and pot-smoking weekends.

But then, gradually, you noticed the shift in him. He was trying to get into your pants. It could not end well.

It wasn’t to say you weren’t attracted to him. You’d jump the gorgeous guy’s bones in a heartbeat, in an alternate universe. But in this one, you’d had a first hand experience of ruining multiple friendships, and you so did not wanna risk another.

That idiot didn’t get it, though.

Hence why you were brainstorming your project’s team at ten oclock of the night in your nearly empty office building.

“Any luck?” Your okay-ish colleague—the least clingy out of the lot—peered at your spreadsheet over your shoulder.

“Why the heck are you so against it, Sana?” you groaned into your palm, frustrated.

“Because I’m ARMY!” she said in an aghast tone.

“So? Dude, that’s nearly 70% of the earth’s population, at this point, I’m guessing.”

“Um, maybe, but. I don’t trust myself to be professional, Y/N,” she morosely mumbled, dropping into an empty chair on the table next to you.

You looked at her from above your glasses. “Why the heck not?”

She ducked her head, her honey blonde hair covering almost all of her face. But you still spotted the red that bloomed across her face. “Because I have a crush on Yoongi, the size of freaking America, Y/N!”

“What? What? That’s your reason?" You covered your mouth with a hand to hold back your laughter. "Lame fucking reason, Sana!” You glared at her when she nervously looked back at you. “Get your shit together, and pack your bags. And give me your husband’s number, I wanna tell him something.”

You hadn’t imagined that picking out five people from a group of thirty would be this hard. You had spent an entire week literally running after these people to convince them. They were all married or engaged save for one, who had plans of proposing to his boyfriend a few months later, during Valentine’s before you convinced him to do it now so that he’d be able to join the team.

You’d come up with a total of four women and two men, including Sana, that were all fluent in Korean. That was kinda one of the biggest prerequisites, other than being in a committed relationship. You’d briefed the lot of them about what was to be done on this trip, who you were dealing with, and how long you’d be off for. They were all on board, now, and the only thing required was your boss’ approval.

And now you were all standing in the Chief Editor’s cabin, waiting for her to finish reviewing the team members’ profiles you’d collected and presented to her.

Your brain was nearly short circuited, at this point. If she said she wasn’t happy with any of your selections you were prepared to tell her to make the new selection herself, because there were only three more married people in this office, and none of them spoke Korean. There were only two more Korean speakers, but they were both female interns who’d be the worst nightmares to put on this project.

You looked at the six people standing next to you, all looking a varied degree of nervous.

But your boss looked impressed as she perused the file. She beamed at all of you, and then nodded. “Prepare for a six months’ stay, people, and prepare to do your best there. The only two real rules to remember are to keep it all a secret until the BigHit people are ready to disclose the news, and not fall in love.”

You all grunted in barely concealed annoyance at the last part, excluding Sana who bit her lip. You rolled your eyes. “It’d be a bigger concern for their partners than it would be to you, if that happens, boss. Don’t worry. We’re all a bunch of professionals, here.” You reassured your boss, shooting a glare at a fidgety Sana.

“I have complete faith in y’all. Now, off you go. Brush up your Korean, spend time with your partners.” She looked at you. “Or just, you know, catch up on lost sleep. You fly to Seoul this Friday.”

Three days from now, oh God.

You all trickled out of your boss’ cabin with furrowed foreheads. You had the most workload out of them all, though, because in addition to preparing to spend six months in a foreign land, you also were to prepare a formal itinerary for said six months. You, of course, were clear on the details because they were mentioned in the contract, but writing them out for your team would definitely take a lot of time.

You briefly wondered if you should employ Sana’s help, before quickly deciding against it. It wouldn’t do you any good to do anything to sway your professional relationship by asking for personal favours.

“Hey, Y/N, all okay?” Simon, the guy that was proposing to his boyfriend early because of you, asked you when you dropped into your office chair with a huge thump.

You turned to scowl at him. “You guys have got to stop asking me that all the time! When have you ever gotten a good answer?”

Simon’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “My bad.”

You kept squinting at his retreating figure. Another member of your team met your eye, before quickly scrambling away.

You hummed in thought. Did they all think you were a bitch? Maybe you were.

Good. It’d do you some good in Korea.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles

#taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts au #reposting bc it wasn't showing up in the tags #*mine #f: wbcs

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thelionbyname · 4 years ago

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Together We Are One (prequel part 5)

(This has kind of evolved from a fanfiction into its own story, but eh, enjoy!)

“Hey Impulse! What’s going on? Little Tango called and said you wanted me to come.” A friendly voice drifted through the house, preceding its owner: another old man, but one who still had streaks of blond hair visible between the grey strands. This man walked in slightly bent over, not because of age, but because a very small girl was clinging onto his index finger. Together, they walked over to the center of the room, where a gathering of sorts seemed to be taking place. Four toddlers were sitting on the ground, facing the old man with the dirty shirt: Impulse.

Impulse looked up at the newcomers and replied, “Zed! Yeah, well... I think it’s time to tell them, and I thought it would be easier for both of us if we did it together.”

Whatever Zed had been expecting, this wasn’t it. It seemed Impulse had uncovered some memories he had tried to suppress. His eyes were suddenly filled with pain, pain that had not been there the first time, that now crashed back like a boomerang; only temporarily disposed of. He dove head first into the rabbit hole of memories that, despite having been in a hidden corner of his mind for thirty years, were clear as day, made fresh through the pain that stained them.

“Gwampa, what’s wong?” The innocent voice of the small child pulled him out of his whirlwind of thoughts, and Zed was suddenly aware of the girl gently tugging his finger.

“I’m okay, Tekkie. Go sit down.” And to Impulse, he said, “Yeah… I guess it is.”

The little girl, Tekkie, her grandpa’s troubles already forgotten, ran over to sit next to Tango and held his hand. Her soft fingers, which had not yet lost their baby fat, easily wove through his, and were clearly very comfortable doing so. He grinned at her, and she flashed a dimpled smile back. Then they turned their heads to face their grandpas.

Zed had taken a seat in the chair normally occupied by Impulse’s wife. He automatically reached for his friend’s hand in comfort, but he didn’t know if he was comforting Impulse or himself.

And in this position, hand in hand, they started.

Though there was still pain, it was a relief to talk about it, together. It was mostly Impulse talking, because he had spent his entire life dwelling on this, analysing every mistake, remembering every thought. Every time he paused for breath, however, Zedaph continued, contributing his own perspective.

The five toddlers listened intently to the most epic tale they had ever heard. They were very good listeners, gasping at the right time, whimpering when a character died, never interrupting. Only the oldest, Tango, was aware that this was all real, not just some story.

When their grandpas got to the part where little Tango’s namesake disappeared, they could not continue. Zedaph let out a sob.

Little Tango didn’t make them continue; for a five-year-old, he was very emotion-sensitive and seemed to know exactly when it was too much. Instead, he asked them, “Did they ever come back?” though he already knew the answer.

Impulse fought to hold back tears, and choked out, “No… they never came back.”

At the same time, in another world...

“Screwdriver.”

“This one? Here you go.”

“Wrench.”

“You could ask politely.”

With the sound of metal rolling over concrete, a man emerged from beneath a complicated-looking machine. He lay on a skateboard he was using as a car creeper, and his face was smeared with oil and what looked like rust. The man blew his moustache away from his mouth with a sigh of exasperation. “For efficiency reasons I find it easier to name what I need, rather than go ‘Tango, could you hand me that drill over there?’ every time.”

“At least say please?” Tango replied.

Mumbo rolled his eyes and disappeared under the machine again. For a moment there was no sound except the steady tap, tap, tap, of a hammer, but then Mumbo spoke again. “Bolt, please.”

Grinning, Tango handed one to him and replied “That’s more like it.” He heard a sigh come out from under the machine, but he could tell Mumbo was smiling. Tango turned when he heard footsteps approaching them. Suddenly, he stood face to face with Xisuma. “Gah! You startled me, X!”

X chuckled and looked down to where Mumbo’s hair was visible. “Nearly done, Mumbo? I have something to tell you guys”

“Almost.” Mumbo sounded like he had his tongue between his teeth in concentration. There was the low buzzing of a drill, and then Mumbo rolled out from beneath the machine again. “There! It’s finished! Phew… I’ve been working on that for weeks!”

“Amazing! So now all Tango has to do is program it.”

“Yes. That’ll be done within a few minutes. But you said you had to tell us something, X?” Tango reminded him.

“Yeah. Could you follow me to the meeting room? Falsie, Grian, and Keralis are waiting for us.”

The three of them walked into the next room, where indeed there were three other people sitting around a table, playing cards. False, Grian and Keralis looked up as they entered. They looked expectantly at Mumbo, who answered the question in their minds. “It’s done,” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. They cheered, and Grian gave Mumbo a high-five. Sort of, because since he was sitting and Mumbo was super tall, Mumbo had to give a low five to Grian’s high five.

Xisuma walks carefully past a wall covered in weapons and over to a mobile whiteboard. He turned to face the rest, who had all sat down and were patiently waiting.

“I have some rather depressing news. Every day, I walk out of my apartment and meet my neighbor, who leaves at the same time. When I first moved in three years ago and met her for the first time, she was cradling a baby of perhaps four months old. Last week, when I saw her, she was holding that same baby. Then I realised, over the course of three years, that baby had not aged at all. I see them every single morning, yet I had not registered this until last week.

“So naturally, I decided to get to the bottom of it. I found pictures of us from when we had just arrived in this dimension, and saw that none of us have changed at all either. Of course, that doesn’t say much, because adults simply don’t change much over a mere three years, which is probably why we didn’t notice before.” He paused for breath, and Grian spoke.

“So, we don’t age. Is that really such a bad thing?” He grinned.

Xisuma didn’t smile. He looked at Grian sadly, and Grian’s smile vanished. “I wasn’t done. While I was trying to find out exactly what was going on, I found some other information. I asked Tango to hack into NASA for me-”

“So that’s what that was for!” Tango interrupted. Then, catching Xisuma’s eye, “Sorry.”

“NASA managed to do quite a bit of research on the time machine before we stole it. It is a miracle that Mumbo was able to fix it, when some of the best scientists in this world couldn’t. But the point is, I found some things. We previously thought that the black hole sent us to another dimension. We were wrong. We are on the same earth, but in a different timeline.”

This revelation was followed by shocked and comprehending gasps from those listening.

Xisuma nodded absent mindedly, and continued. “Black holes warp time. This explains why we don’t age. Time flows differently here. We didn’t go through the black hole, we are inside it. It doesn’t just freeze all organic matter into one state, it slows time as we experience it. For us it feels like we have been here for three years, but back home in the other timeline, it has been ten times as long. So for the other hermits, we have been gone for three decades. They probably think we’re all dead.”

This time there were pained gasps. Remorse transformed each of their features as they realised how their friends must feel.

“But it’s not all bad. Our original plan to get back was to use the time machine to travel across dimensions, but now that we know that doesn’t apply, I made some adjustments. We need to travel through time. We know the risks of messing with the past, but it is the only way to get back. You see,” He paused and started drawing on the whiteboard. He drew a straight line from left to right, and then split the line at the end so it resulted in a rotated Y of sorts. “This is what the timeline would look like, were it possible to visualise it. This,” he gestured to the bottom of the Y, “ is when we were all still back home. And here,” he pointed at the intersection, where all the lines came together, “is where we went into the black hole. We went to one timeline, while the other Hermits continued on the other. So the only way to go back to them is to take the time machine back to before we went into the black hole, because any time after that, we would still be in this timeline.” Xisuma looked around to see if they understood. It looked like some were still processing all the information, but there was only as much confusion as what was to be expected.

False spoke up. “That means that when we go back and change the past, we erase all the suffering we caused them, and their entire timeline,” she stood up and walked to the board, “will vanish.” she wiped away one of the split-off lines.

“Exactly,” Xisuma nodded. “We need to stay hidden until our past selves have gone into the black hole, because otherwise we could seriously mess up the past. This means that we have to stay far away, because past Tango or past Cleo could sense our presence.”

At this, Tango’s eyes widened. “That’s right! I used to have telepathy! I had entirely forgotten about that…” His eyes glazed over for a second, clearly seeing things the rest could not. Xisuma’s smooth British voice brought him back to the present.

“Right, yeah. I found information about that during my deep dive into NASA’s archive, too. NASA has two theories; the first being that the black hole runs on a different frequency, one that is not compatible with magic. The magic is still in the air somewhere, but humans can’t access it. The second theory is that magic is entirely dead here, because the vortex is too powerful, and magic simply can’t survive.”

They all sat and stared blankly, remembering a better time, when they were above the regular laws of humanity. They never knew why their powers had ceased to exist when they regained consciousness after being thrown around the void, until now. At least, a theory as to why. As they thought back to when they were more than human, the homesickness was suddenly overwhelming. From one moment to the next, they were all desperate to go home. It had always remained their home, all three years they had spent elsewhere. It had never felt truly theirs here.

Tango cleared his throat, which suddenly had a lump in it, and said, “I say we leave as soon as possible. I’m going to go program the time machine so it’s ready to go.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, some wiping the silent tears from their cheeks. Tango speed walked into the room with the time machine; he couldn’t get there fast enough.

Once he disappeared past the door frame, Keralis spoke for the first time that evening. “I agree with Tango. Let’s go home. Today. Anyone have things in their apartments they want to bring to the past?” He looked around, studying each face individually. He realised he hadn’t really seen them since coming here, to this new world. He knew he would only see the ghost of his past life.

“Nah, but I do want to keep these cool suits,” Mumbo said, gesturing to the six spy outfits on display in glass cases along the wall behind him.

“I second that. I just want to go home,” Grian concurs.

Within a few minutes, as Tango had promised, the time machine was ready for departure. Somehow they all managed to squeeze into the machine designed to transport one person.

With effort, Xisuma got enough oxygen to say, “Tango, you did program this properly, right? You were in quite a rush.”

“Yes, X. Have some faith in my abilities, please.” Tango rolled his eyes. “Ready? Here we go!” he pulled a large lever- with difficulty- and they vanished in a bright flash.

* * *

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfiction #Tangotek #tango tek #Xisuma #Xisumavoid #Falsesymmetry #False symmetry #MumboJumbo #Mumbo jumbo #Grian #Zombiecleo #Keralis #Keralis1 #Impulsesv #Zedaph #Zedaph plays #Zedaphplays

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emphoenixcat · 4 years ago

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An Unconventional Fam (Pt. 10)

Part 9

Ao3

Buy me a kofi<3

A/N: This chapter takes place after chapter 7 for V and Dax, and chapter 9 for Roman and Remy. Enjoy!

Summary: V and Dax make their way to the only place where they truly feel safe, a secret hideout in the forest. They have a surprising encounter with a particular werewolf.

Warnings: implied past child abuse (not detailed), slight blood mention, traps, demons, possession, food mention, lightning/thunder, wolves.

The demon and his human, or perhaps the human and his demon, were finally calming down after they were almost caught stealing from a cookie jar earlier that morning.

It was now mid-afternoon and they had managed to get a free bus ride at Dax’s insistence.

V grumbled, “We shouldn’t be out in public like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t possibly walk all the way to the forest and make it there by nightfall. You said you wanted to get to your secret stash and listen to some music to calm down a bit, that is precisely what we’re doing.”

“We should’ve just headed back to our current hideout. This is too much traveling,” V anxiously peered around the bus at the strangers surrounding them.

The demon sighed, “You drew a picture of the demon witch on the walls. It seemed like bad luck to stay. Besides, we would be like sitting ducks if we remained there.”

He decided not to argue with the demon’s judgement, even if it had been primarily motivated by a craving for chocolate, it had solid rationale behind it.

They passed many busy stores and restaurants, now open and very much alive with customers. The leaf strewn sidewalks were teeming with people in a hurry to be somewhere. Dax and V stared longingly out the bus window, watching fragments of another life pass them by. Families walked together outside, children splashing in puddles and jumping in piles of fiery-hued leaves. V wanted to turn away from them and, instead, think like a brave and well-put-together adult, but he couldn’t. He was nothing more than a now twelve-year-old boy, not even close to fully grown. Dax, on the otherhand, was bewildered by such dreadfully heartwarming scenes; they simply didn’t understand such things. They were curious about what constituted as normal in human families, neither of them ever having much experience with such a concept.

It must have been hours before they were outside of town, but they were too busy daydreaming to be worried about the passing of time. The bus’s final stop was at an old gas station that was about an hour’s walk away from their special hiding place. V made sure to sit next to a large group of people despite his nagging uneasiness. They needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible after all.

As soon as the bus came to a stop at its final destination, they made their way to the doors, following closely behind the few people that were left.

“Hey, V. I’m feeling snackish. Do you feel like going for them chocolate chip cookies?”

Dax could feel V rolling his eyes at him, “Considering you ate one before I was awake and that I didn’t get to fully enjoy it the first time….yes.”

The demon sheepishly smiled, “I had to taste test them first to make sure they were suitable for the birthday boy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, chewing on the delectable chocolate chip cookies and enjoying the crisp autumn air. They were breathing easier now that they were far away from prying eyes and now that the threat of the demon witch was temporarily pushed out of their minds. Something about the flavorful treats made V optimistic in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, he vaguely wondered if they were getting a sugar high from said sweets. His heart sank slightly at the thought of never being able to go back to the diner for more cookies, not after being seen.

Pushing the image of the concerned man from earlier out of their minds, they continued forward through the undergrowth of the forest. It had been a month or two since they had come back to their little wooded hideaway; they tried not to go back and forth too often because it was easier to remain in town where they could go to various stores for the everyday essentials.

Getting to the hideout from here was not a problem, they had made sure of it by creating a magical path that only they could see.

When Dax had agreed to help V run away from the demon witch, Stella, they had managed to snag a few potions and elixirs on their way out. Even though V struggled with the writing on the bottles, most of them were accompanied by symbols that he had been around all his life so he had some idea what they were used for. Mendacius, on the other hand, was more certain of the properties of each bottle since he was rather fluent in reading Latin and old runes. Together, they used a bright blue potion labelled Ignis Fatuus, which Dax knew would light a path leading to their desired destination. Only those who had unbottled the potion under a full moon and watched each drop of liquid seep into the earth were able to see Ignis Fatuus (which the demon had informed V was better known as Will-o’-the-wisp, a type of faerie magic that could only be used in this way when captured).

The shade of the trees provided enough low light to better see the magic bright blue flames that lined the forest floor. It wasn’t long before they came upon a tree with a hidden hollowed out inside. They pressed down on a large tree knot as if it were a button, a stairway within the trunk revealing itself step by step.

Cautiously looking over his shoulder, V ascended the stairway until they were safely inside their secret treehouse.

The house was, of course, only the size of a small room, but inside it contained all of V and Dax’s most treasured belongings. Among art and photographs, a string of purple and yellow star-shaped fairy lights were strung along the wall, lighting up now that they were fully inside the room. Strewn about the walls were many of V’s paintings and sketches; he had tried to hang only those that reminded him of something good and comforting. Most of them were a likeness of the forest, some were depictions of Dax, and there were a few that V had let Dax help him draw….those ones were usually pictures of chocolate bars and cookies. V shook his head at the thought and smirked, what a weirdo.

“Hey,” Dax protested, “I heard that.”

V just grinned and carried on admiring the contents of their hideaway treehouse. Of course the demon had other interests besides chocolate, such interests were depicted in photographs they had taken of shops and nature and unaware passersby. Mendacius had taken a strong liking to photography because of the way he could capture special moments on earth. He often hoped that the photos would withstand the tests of time so that he could always remember the best of everything long after this life and the next.

Among little dark wooden shelves, were stacks upon stacks of CDs, batteries, and music boxes of all kinds. Right beside the dark oakwood shelving, there rested a sturdy wooden trunk with silver runic symbols etched all along the sides; this was where all the potions were safely kept under lock and key. Not in any need of magical concoctions at this point in time, they glanced at the neatly-made and soft-looking bed that sat in the lefthand corner of the room, its soft purple blankets and an ebony plush bunny by the name of Mrs. Fluffybottom were a welcome sight for sore eyes.

Without a second thought, they jumped on the mattress, wrapping the soft blanket around themselves and letting out a sigh of relief. Nothing felt safer than their treehouse retreat. For about the millionth time, V and Dax thanked whatever forces were in their favor for the Arbor Domus potion or, put more simply, the Grow a Home potion. All they had needed was a drop of the green liquid and an oak tree seed. After that, everything else was provided by Mendacius and his cunning thievery, something that V wasn’t exactly proud of.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, V chanced a glance out of a small circular window near the bed, noticing the rays of sunlight fading through the trees. His birthday would be over soon enough, all they had to do was lay low here and let the rest of the day pass.

“Sleep now, V. You didn’t get enough rest earlier,” Dax urged him to lay back down and get comfortable.

V chewed at his nails, “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“Nobody can find us here. And I’m not moving us anywhere, I promise,” Dax reassured him. “We’re safe.”

Nodding slightly, V relented and let their head softly hit the pillow as he tucked themselves snuggly within the blanket covers. After grabbing the plush bunny for extra security, it only took a moment for the normally anxious boy to feel safe enough to snooze.

Dax meant to stay awake to watch over V, but the demon felt his own spirit getting drowsy. In what seemed like no time at all, both souls were comfortably curled up and sleeping soundly, the soft glow of fairy lights providing them with dreams unburdened by darkness or evil witches of any kind.

They were abruptly awoken by the sound of a wild animal deeply howling. V bolted up so quick that they nearly got whiplash.

Crankily, Dax rubbed at their eyes, “Calm down, V. It’s probably just the wind.”

“That is most definitely not the wind. That was a wolf.”

The demon sighed, “So what? The creature can’t get us from here, this place is cloaked by magic.”

“Oh,” V clutched their rabbit plushie a little closer to himself, comforted by its presence. “I suppose you’re right. It just startled me is all; it sounds awfully close.”

They were silent for a moment, straining their ears to listen. There was the unmistakable pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the roof. Minutes passed before they heard the howl again, this time it was much closer.

Trying not to feel nervous, they peered out the window and into the forest down below. The eerie glow of the full moon was shadowed by a great deal of cloud cover, yet it cast just enough light for them to see the russet-hued wolf that stood at the base of their tree. It was simply staring into the sky, seemingly entranced. It let loose another hauntingly drawn-out howl.

Not wanting to alert the wolf to their presence, even if they were hidden by magic, V opted for speaking to Dax telepathically rather than out loud. “What kind of wolf is that? It’s kinda orange, almost tri-colored like a timber wolf.”

“That’s not a normal wolf. It’s much too big and definitely not native to these parts.”

“A werewolf?” V’s eyes widened, “Is it--? No, it can’t be.”

Dax only nodded, he could see the glow of a human-like aura intertwined with that of a wolf-like one. The demon sent the image over to V’s mind as they watched the wolf below them dash away into the darkness and out of sight.

“Well, he’s gone now. Not much to worry abo--”

A piercing cry echoed across the expanse of trees followed by a series of yelps and whimpers.

V and Dax stood stock still in stunned silence, they were both wondering what in the world had just happened to elicit such a spine-chilling sound from their wolfy acquaintance. The shrill whimpering continued and V finally found the will to speak, “M--maybe we should go see what’s wrong. I mean, it sounds like he’s hurt.”

“Oh really now, the big bad wolf should be able to take care of himself,” Dax rolled their eyes, “Besides, I thought that you wanted to stay in tonight and avoid any and all trouble.”

A long and heart-wrenching whine could be heard throughout their area of the woods.

“C’mon. You know we can’t just stay here and do nothing while he’s hurting out there.”

Dax threw their arms up in the air in exasperation, “Fine, we’ll go out and help! But only because I can’t stand his incessant whining. Don’t blame me when your fear of dogs is worsened because wolfy over there decides that we’d make a good chew toy.”

Well aware that they were planning on helping an unpredictable wild animal, which was stronger and bigger due to its magical qualities, they decided they should equip themselves with a little magic of their own.

V took off the collar that his bunny, Mrs Fluffybottom, wore around its neck. Hooked onto the neckband, like a bell, was a silver and black key.

Determined, V took the key over to the chest and fit it into the heavy padlock. Something clicked and they carefully lifted the heavy lid until it rested against the wall. Dax and V stared at the various vials of liquid enchantments set before them. The demon retrieved a tiny bottle of what looked almost blood-like in color. As he touched the glass, ancient runes briefly revealed themselves and Dax nodded with certainty.

“This is the one we need,” their eyes skimmed the rest of the pile, “Unfortunately, there are not any cloaking potions in here. Looks like we’re on our own.”

V shrugged their shoulders, “We usually are.”

Before they could lose that sliver of bravery pulsing inside of them, they pocketed the healing potion and shut the chest, locking it up once more and returning the key back to its rightful place. Smiling softly, V patted the dark bunny’s head and thanked it for guarding the key. Mrs. Fluffybottom could only stare back at them with mismatched purple button eyes of course, but that didn’t matter much to V.

V pulled their hood up over their ears, mindful of the wind and drizzle that was going on outside. Then they hurried down the staircase and out the entrance of the hollowed out tree, the steps vanishing from sight behind them.

Once outside, they made sure to creep silently, moving deftly through twigs, crunchy leaves, and undergrowth. The rainfall made it a lot simpler to walk undetected towards the high-pitched yowling, which seemed to be getting even louder. Dax and V rounded a tree and abruptly stopped, tiptoeing backwards in order to remain out of sight.

Lying on the forest floor in a small pool of blood was the wolf, his hind leg caught in the heavy metallic jaws of a beartrap.

“Great, what’s the plan now? We can’t heal him without freeing him first.”

V eyed the wolf warily, “I dunno, I was hoping it was a simple injury. Why does it always have to be beartraps?”

“I guess werewolves don’t have many other weaknesses.”

“Well,” V bit his lip in thought, “if we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna need your help as much as possible.”

“We could wait until he turns human again, couldn’t we?” Dax suggested.

“No, he’s bleeding out. It’s too long of a wait until sunrise….”

Without a second thought, they stepped out from behind the tree.

The wolf’s head turned and the whimpering turned into low guttural growls as the creature finally realized he was no longer alone.

V hesitated, slowly edging closer to the wolf. He extended a hand toward the creature in what he hoped was a placating gesture.

“H--hey, buddy. Remember us? I know we got off to a bad start, but we returned the book and even left a note. We’re cool, right? You wouldn't dream of tackling us a second time, right?” V lightly chuckled, his voice shaky and whispery.

The tawny wolf tilted his head in confusion and the growls softened for a moment, however, his ears remained as alert as ever. He fixed his eyes on the other and V stilled in their tracks, mesmerized as the wolf’s irises flashed from gold to brown for a fleeting moment; it had happened so fast that they weren’t even sure they had seen it correctly.

Because it was what seemed like the logical response at the time, they let their eyes flash a deep ebony before letting the color settle back into V’s usual hazel.

The wolf cautiously bowed his head to them, his tail lowered.

They took this as a sign that it was okay to approach. Dax and V attentively knelt down next to the silver trap, the light of the moon glinting off of it ever so slightly. V let the demon take control as they worked to pull the metallic jaws apart, careful not to touch the sharp teeth of the contraption. Sweat was beginning to form on their brow as they pried at the trap for several long minutes, the metal was slick from the rain and their hands kept slipping. Grunting from the extended exertion, the demon used as much strength as he could muster and V helped as much as he possibly could. The beartrap finally began to budge ever so slightly. With what sounded a lot like a battle cry, the hinges were creaked back just enough for the werewolf to free his paw. As soon as they noticed he was free, they let go of the trap and it snapped shut, just narrowly missing their fingers as they fell backward onto the damp forest floor.

Sighing with relief, they tiredly retrieved the healing elixir from their pocket and managed a faint smile at the wolf next to them. They uncorked the bottle and let the tiniest drop of red liquid fall upon the creature’s injured paw. Within seconds, the potion started to work its magic repairing the wound until the paw looked as good as new. No scars remained.

The wolf stared at his paw and twirled around in circles as if disbelieving, then he peered up at them, his irises as golden as ever.

V felt a shiver run up his spine and he turned to look over his right shoulder. Mendacius was taking form beside him. It appeared to be the devil’s hour once again.

There was a sudden flash in the sky and a resounding clap of thunder. The werewolf snarled.

They were still on the ground and out of breath. Both of them knew that if they were to run, the creature would catch up.

The wolf crept forward, sniffing the air.

“M--maybe if we don’t make any sudden movements, he won’t attack?” Dax said hopefully, he was suddenly very aware that his physical form was now solidified enough to be maimed.

V managed to nod once, his wide eyes still glued to the threat before them.

Nose still twitching, the werewolf backed away from them a few steps. Then the creature lunged, knocking them both backward with his huge paws.

V’s eyes were shut tightly, his breathing erratic and strained. He was absolutely certain that this was the end, but then he felt something wet and slobbery tickle his nose and his eyelids fluttered open only to be greeted by the view of the dog's tongue darting out to lick his cheek. The wolf turned to Dax to do the same.

“Ugh, gross! This is the last time I help a werewolf!” the demon complained.

They were licked excitedly by the wolf about three or four more times before he happily bounded away further into the woods, his tail wagging behind him. The duo remained on the now muddy ground, they were absolutely rain-soaked, but the utter exhaustion from all that they had gone through kept them rooted to the spot for a little while longer. It was quite a lot to process.

UF Taglist: @virgilanxiety @monikastec @nyxwordsmith @prplzorua @thestoryofme13 @llamaly @dark-strange-mess @socialfailure @justanotherpurplebutterfly @internallyexplodingrainbows @devoted-to-boyking-samshine @groverpal @potatogirl309 @sockopath @ocotopushugs @callboxkat @violetmcl @ravenclawunicorn1 @isaysolanumlycopersicum @the-straight-as-a-circle-girl @that-one-invisible-chick @nye275 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @jojosenpai @audricusthebold @noodlesforlife13 @spazzz32 @axyzel @6tick6tock6 @ijustreallylovesanderssides @virgilisaneternalmood @jade-dragon226-fan @britbrodcast @crankthatyee @awesomelissawho @couch-potato-1890 @temmiecupcake @lucifer-in-my-head @tahiti-island-dream @crownswriter123 @harry-niclach @kikiofthevast @amazinglissawho @vibe-with-vinnie @notspookymonth @a-pastel-pan @captain-otis-dante @enby-in-fandom @magridalthewitch @monixmoony

General Taglist: @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms @anxious-but-whatever @tellmehowtoexist @maizieandbirds @theresneverenoughfandoms @grumpymoonbird @lizaelsparrow

A/N: How cool would it have been if I had actually gotten this werewolf chapter out on not only a full moon, but the blue moon that we had on Halloween night? That would’ve been spectacular. *sighs*

#sanders sides fanfic #fantasy au #mythical au #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #werewolf au #demon au #vampire au #remy sanders #TS sleep #emphoenixcat writes #unconventional famILY

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verai-marcel · 5 years ago

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A Bear of a Man (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Arthur has been a shapeshifter for years, after he got attacked by a werebear during a hunting trip with Hosea. Hosea has kept his secret, but what happens when you find out?

Author’s Notes: Just expanding on that drabble I wrote on tumblr. Some background for this fic: Shapeshifting can be transferred through vicious attacks while in animal form. Also there are feral shapeshifters around, those who have lost their humanity and basically remain as animals. This happens if a shapeshifter stays as an animal for too long and chooses to lose themselves to their instincts.

Tags: medium honor Arthur, smut, biting, doggy style, very rough sex, breeding kink

AO3 Link is here, rawr.

------------------------

You normally didn’t worry about Arthur when he left on trips to find work. Sometimes he was gone for a day or two. Other times, a full week would go by before he’d come back, a pile of cash in his satchel and sometimes a large deer to share with the gang. Arthur always provided for his family, and that made your heart warm up to him quickly after you first met him.

A year ago, Hosea had found you underneath the porch of a ranch house, hiding from the owner in the hopes of burglarizing his home late at night. In exchange for the info you had, Hosea offered you a place in the gang if you could contribute. You readily agreed; you were tired of being all alone.

Now you were one of the gang, stealing from the rich and giving to your found family. But you wanted to be more than just one of the gang to Arthur. You wanted him to notice you, to care for you as much as you cared for him. You vaguely knew of a prior lover, but accordingly to Tilly, that was long ago and she wasn’t good for him anyway.

So you did your best to be kind, to show your support for the gruff outlaw. You helped him clean his clothes, made sure he had some food when he came back late from a job, and you always brought your job tips to him first before anyone else. Lately, it seemed like he’d finally started to notice; you caught him glancing over at you on more than one occasion these past few weeks. His tone was kinder, gentler with you when he spoke. This past month, he had accompanied you on almost every job you went on, when before he hardly went with you at all. He even gave you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder the last time you saw him, his fingers lingering as he thanked you for bringing him a cup of coffee.

He had looked a bit haggard then, too tired to be up so early. Soon after, he had left, and by now, three days had passed with no sign of Arthur. You had not slept well the night before; you had asked the others where he might have traveled, and no one had a clue. The biggest red flag was raised when you asked Dutch and Hosea where he might have gone.

“Oh, he's probably off hunting or taking on a bounty. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

You looked from Dutch to Hosea. Normally, Hosea would just nod or give you some pithy comment along the same lines. But this time, he spoke a bit more than normal.

“He’s just fine. I’m sure you’d cause him more worry if you were to leave camp, so stay here and wait for him to come back. Greet him with that big smile like you always do.”

You nodded before turning away from them both, trying to hide your reaction to Hosea’s words. You’d worked with him enough to identify when he was bullshitting. And your bullshit alarm just went off in your head. Something was up. You had to find Arthur.

***

The next day, after you had finished your chores, you told Tilly you were going to go look for homes to rob, and took off, keeping your eyes out on the trail for signs of Arthur’s horse. You had traveled for over half a day before you realized, as the sun was setting, that you had lost his trail.

Or so you thought. As you traveled through the forest that only got thicker and darker, you noticed a small cabin that looked abandoned, with ivy growing around it, the shingles on the roof rotted with age.

Tied to a tree nearby was a familiar palomino horse.

“Hey there, boy,” you cooed as you rode up and tied your horse next to him. The two horses nuzzled each other as you looked around. The cabin looked empty; no lamps, no fire. You walked up the steps and entered anyway.

“Hello? Arthur?”

The door creaked as it opened, and you looked around the room in the dim light. There was an old bed with its wooden legs broken, the mattress basically on the ground, a blanket thrown upon it. There were a couple of cabinets that were empty, the paint faded. Finally, to your surprise, there was a backdoor that was hanging off its hinges, the door jamb broken as if someone had tried to break in with a sledge hammer.

As you got closer, you looked at the wood and noticed something off about the damage. It wasn’t by tools; it looked like claw marks. You gently nudged the backdoor open and looked around on the ground. There was the faint smell of dead animal; you could see blood on the ground and bits of what might have been a rabbit strewn about. Taking a few more steps outside, you looked around at the trees. More claw marks. You had no doubts now.

A bear had been around. Recently too, from the looks of the tracks that you saw on the ground, even in the dim light of dusk.

What if Arthur was injured out there? What if…?

You didn’t want to think about it. Charging into the forest, you foolishly followed the tracks of the bear for five minutes before you stopped, your mind catching up with your emotions. You hadn’t seen any foot trails. No sign of Arthur’s boots in the dirt. Why weren’t there any footprints? You turned around and started to walk back to the cabin to start your search from there, taking a deep breath to clear your head. You needed to be more logical about this. Also you wanted to go get your lantern; it was impossible to see clearly now.

A rustling in the bushes behind you made you jump. You turned, and in the brush beyond, you saw a pair of glowing eyes, followed by the faint outline of a large creature. And it was getting closer.

Fueled by fear, you made a newbie mistake. You ran.

Hearing the creature crash through the underbrush after you, your heart pounded harder, pumping all the adrenaline through your veins as you raced back to the cabin. You could see it, the door was right there—

Suddenly you were flying, then falling, face first into the dirt, after tripping over a broken tree branch. You tried to get up, but you felt a large paw hold you down. Too scared to turn your head, you shut your eyes, bracing for a bite that would end you.

Instead, the bite did not draw any blood; it felt more like a gentle grasp on your neck, and you shuddered as its tongue licked your exposed skin. You heard it rumble, almost like a cat’s purr, before it pulled away from you. Terrified, you slowly turned around to look.

It was a large grizzly bear. You tentatively got up to your feet, keeping eye contact. To your surprise, it merely huffed as it watched you.

You took a step back. It took a step forward. You took a few more steps back, and it followed you, and didn’t stop. Your back hit the wall of the cabin. The bear, big enough to come up to your shoulder while standing on all fours, pushed its head against your belly and rolled it against you, almost playfully. Looking up at you, it softly woofed at you. Then he put his nose into your hand.

“You want me to pet you?” you asked, incredulous. It woofed again, and headbutted you gently.

Reaching out with both your hands, you ran your fingers through its soft fur. You heard it rumble softly, and you kept petting its head as it leaned into your touch. You reveled in the warmth against your skin.

The purr turned into a low growl, and then suddenly the bear got up on its hind legs and slammed it paws against the wall, pinning you in place. You shrieked, afraid that it had changed its mind and was finally going to eat you. Squeezing your eyes shut again, you waited for that final blow, whimpering.

“Now you’ve done it, darlin’.”

You blinked and looked up. Arthur was standing before you, his hands on either side of your head, trapping you between his massive arms. You put one and one together, but you still couldn’t believe it.

“I know yer smart. You know what I am now.”

You nodded. A shapeshifter. There were stories, legends, like the vampire in St Denis, or the witch in the mountains of Ambarino. But never any proof. Until now, that is.

A quick glance told you that he was naked. A second glance told you that he was very, very happy to see you.

“Um.”

“You shouldn’t’ve come here,” he uttered in a low tone.

“Ar-Arthur?”

He leaned in and nuzzled your neck, nipping gently at your pulse. “You smell so sweet, darlin’.” Taking a step forward, he pressed you against the wall with his whole abody. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin like a furnace; his muscles were hard against your soft curves as he rubbed against you, spreading his scent on you.

“Yer too temptin',” he mumbled as he grasped your chin, making you look up at him. “Tell me now if you don’t want me. Otherwise, I won’t stop.”

You stared at him, into his eyes, a vulnerability showing through that you had seen glimpses of before. He had given you a choice. His heart was in your hands.

“I-I want you, Arthur.”

He smiled hungrily in triumph. Then his lips met yours, and you could no longer think. You were lost to the arms that wrapped around you, the mouth that stole your breath, the body that crushed you. He picked you up and took you into the cabin, laying you down onto the broken bed.

“Clothes. Off. Now.”

You hesitated. This was happening so quickly. Too quickly. You were still grappling with the fact that Arthur was a bear. An actual bear.

He reached up and grabbed the collar of your blouse, tearing the fabric easily, as if it were tissue paper.

Shocked, you could only gasp as he did the same to the rest of your clothes, tearing everything to shreds until only scraps of cloth remained. You raised your arms, covering your private bits in a panic.

He grabbed your wrists roughly and pulled your arms aside, his eyes raking over your body. His intense gaze was full of lust as he stared at you. The only sound he made was a low rumble as he crawled over you and kissed you again, rubbing up against you, skin on blazing hot skin.

“Gotta mark you, make sure everyone knows yer mine,” he mumbled before he started to suck on your neck, leaving love bites up and down the column of your neck. His hands were all over you, touching you in a frenzy, as if he needed to feel every inch of you or he’d die. He slid his body up and down, his cock rubbing against your inner thighs.

“Spread your legs fer me.”

You shyly did so, your breath catching at the heat in his eyes as he worked his lips down your chest, your stomach, to your center. He kept eye contact with you as he licked a long line up your folds, lapping up your slick. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned, as if he had tasted the most delectable ambrosia.

“Yer just perfect, my darlin’ mate. Perfect for havin’ my cubs.”

You didn't have time to digest his comment before you felt an incredible pleasure. Arthur had shoved his face between your legs, lapping at your nether lips and your core, his tongue giving you the perfect amount of pressure on your sensitive areas. He devoured you with an insatiable hunger, moaning against you.

"So delicious, sweetheart," he mumbled when he finally came up for air. "Wanna taste you when ya let go."

You lifted your hips to meet his mouth as he went all in, chasing after your pleasure, growling against your body. The vibration of his low tone threw you over the edge as you came, bucking against his face, your thighs crushing his head as you reached down and dug your hands into his hair. He didn't stop sucking on your center until you were whimpering, so sensitive that you were trying to get away from his wicked tongue.

"Stay still, princess," he commanded, and you froze, staring at him as he crawled up your body, settling himself between your legs. "Yer mine now."

Taking his huge cock in one hand, he eased the tip slowly inside of your slick entrance. You cried out softly, feeling his thick member penetrating you.

"Shhh, there ya go, you can take it, sweetheart."

He held you close as he eased himself in the rest of the way, petting your hair and making soft, cooing sounds to calm you, as if you were a frightened pet. It worked, because your heart slowed its frantic pace, your muscles relaxing, letting him delve deeper inside of you. When he was fully within you, he let out a low groan.

"So good," he uttered as he started to pump his hips, building up a steady rhythm that your heart started to match, growing into a frenzied staccato as Arthur lost himself in you.

"Need to breed you," he gritted out, his voice halfway to sounding like a bear growl. He pulled out of you and flipped you over. You felt his arms wrap around you as he re-entered you, his weight bearing down on you as you felt his lips graze the back of your neck before he bit down gently. Hearing your small cry of pleasure, he tenderly kissed the spot he had bitten.

"You want this?" he asked, his lips moving against your skin.

You heard his underlying question, so you answered that instead.

"I want you, Arthur."

He rumbled happily as he started to pound into your wet heat.

"Darlin', my sweet darlin'," he slurred, drunk on his desire for you. His pace quickened as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply of your scent. He let out a shuddering breath as he pumped hard into you.

“Mine,” he moaned as he spilled himself inside of you, filling you with his spend. He lay on top of you for a few moments, catching his breath, before he rolled over, taking you with him. He was still hard as he lay on his side, spooning you. His hips jerked forward every few minutes.

“Gonna be inside you fer a while,” he grunted. “Got to make sure it takes.”

You whimpered as you felt him twitch inside of you. He lifted your leg up by your knee and thrust slowly, languidly, taking long strokes, enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him. He moaned into your neck as he filled you up again and again.

Time passed, becoming just phrases between when he was thrusting into you and when he just held you still. But he was inside you the whole time, his cock a constant pulse between your legs. He stroked you gently, knowing that you were sensitive now, every caress making you whimper in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Yer alright, girl. I got you."

You sighed and snuggled into his arms.

"Be mine, forever."

You nodded.

Arthur kissed the top of your head. "Love you, darlin'."

***

“Arthur?”

“Hm?”

You ran your hands through his soft hair. In the morning light, it looked as if there was a golden glow to the tips of his sandy brown locks. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

He held you close and buried his face into your neck. You felt more than heard his affirmative hum.

“Does that… does that mean you’re mine too?”

He pulled back and looked at you, a look of sweet devotion on his face. “Of course, darlin’. I was yours from the beginnin’.” Arthur smiled shyly at you. “Just took me a while to figure it out.”

Clinging to him tightly, you smiled happily. You were his, and he was yours. While you admitted to yourself that it wasn’t the most romantic first night, it was certainly the most passionate, and if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

He was your Arthur-Bear, and you’d love him forever.

--------------------

End Notes: So my search history now contains the phrase “bear courtship”, but I learned that the male bear will basically just follow a female bear until she seems ready to mate, and then will just get it on for an hour or so, making sure his sperm takes, before moving on to the next female. Didn’t seem too romantic, so I made it so that Arthur-bear just likes to follow you, and then keep you close forever and ever. Happy ending.

I have notes for this story, if anyone is interested in reading them. Let me know, and I’ll post them if enough people ask for it.

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #werebear arthur #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #nsft #lemon fanfic #writing #fanfic

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overlyimmersedarcana · 4 years ago

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A Series of Nightmares pt 1

"I'm Sure it's Nothing"

(Trigger warnings; horror, cursing)

(My first go at horror, ever. So sorry if it's too predictable or not scary. Very excited for the spoopy season :) I started this as a one shot, but since I'll probably write more on this nature as we go into October I decided to make a series out of it.)

Act 1

"Son of Bitch!" The exclamation is punctuated by the sound of shattering ceramic.

Muriel's head snaps up from the piece he was whittling, the shout had startled him, but beyond that she had cursed. Maranell almost never curses. Though dropping a plate might bring a 'damn it' from her under normal circumstances. But these are clearly not normal. Her tone hadn't been frustration or irritation, it had been fear. The curse had come out as more of a shriek, and now as he looks at her she's staring wide eyed, and frozen as a startled rabbit, at their front door. He follows her gaze, and sees nothing out of place.

"What is it?" he asks, setting his project aside. Though something in the back of his mind tells him to hold on to the knife. He stands and moves over to her, brushing his hand against her upper arm to tell her he's there.

This brings her attention to him with a jump, and she blinks a couple of times. There's fear in her eyes, but also confusion. "I...I don't know." Her tone is hushed, "Something in the window..."

The window. When Maranell had replaced the door she'd installed a stained glass window Marayana had made for them. It's pretty, but he thinks it's impractical. And this is exactly why.

There are two doors to this house now. The front with the window, and a backdoor in the bathroom that leads to their clothes line. Both have locks, and are currently locked. They could just ignore this. He could make some excuse, tell her it was an owl flying by or a reflection. But...she's awfully scared. She's not just spooked, there's a terror to her demeanor that's settled a chunk of ice squarely in his heart.

"I'll go see." he resigns.

Her hands comes up as if to stop him, "wait!...It didn't look...normal..." she warns, that terrified edge still in her voice.

He considers that information. That could mean anything. "...Stay here." He insists anyway. And of course the first thing she does is move... Though only over to where Faolan is, sitting in his playpen while Xavier entertains him through the bars.

She moves to sit down, but as she looks nervously over her shoulder she notices the bedroom door is open, a yawning shadow as there's no light in the unoccupied room. She straightens back up and pulls the door securely shut before returning to the baby and settling down.

Once he's sure she's not going anywhere, Muriel moves toward the door. Inanna gets to her paws with a whine, meaning to follow.

"No. Keep them safe." he tells the wolf, as he reaches to undo the lock on the front door.

"No wait!" Maranell jumps a little, but stays mostly sitting. "Take her with you, I'll feel better if you're not alone..." she tucks into herself a little, her bangs falling to obscure her right eye.

He pauses, considering it. He'd feel better if no one else was walking into danger, and if there really is something out there, he wants Maranell and Faolan as safe as possible. He sighs, and resigns again "Fine."

Inanna trots forward and sniffs around the edge of the door, her ears lay back.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Muriel tells the wolf, as he pulls the door open and they both step into the night.

Act 2

Muriel pulls the door shut behind him, a little extra hard, hoping to jam it since he didn't want to risk locking it from the outside. In case they need to get out. But still wanting to discourage anything but him from going in.

Inanna looks up at him and whines, something doesn't feel right.

"I'm sure it's nothing." He insists, despite feeling it too. He looks around the clearing in front of the house, it's dark. It had been overcast all day, the clouds must still be there blocking out the moon and star light. The only light he has to work with is the lamp hanging next to the door, another of Maranell's additions. A 'porch light'. They don't have a porch. Still, at the moment, he's thankful for it. It lights up the dark woods directly in front of the house, which keeps most nighttime creatures away, and it's currently letting him easily survey the area, despite the moonless night.

Though there isn't much to see. Just the woods. At night. The leaves have changed color with the onset of autumn, some are on the ground being blown about by a chilly midnight breeze. But nothing dangerous. He looks down at the ground, searching for prints, nothing there either. The ground looks undisturbed. Maybe Maranell really was seeing things. He looks at Inanna, who's taken to sniffing the ground.

"Should check around back." he says, as much to himself as her, and lumbers that way, placing his steps as even as he can to try and be quiet. It's much darker, no porch light behind the house, but it's not pitch black. He can see well enough in the dark, and Inanna can probably see just fine.

As he stares into the dark, he doesn't see anything. But then a sound strikes him, Inanna's snarling at something. Before be can ask her what she sees, she's off like an arrow from a bow. He's stunned for just a second before taking off after her, following the sound of her paws through the dark. The sound leads him back around to the front of the house, where it vanishes. There's no sound of chasing paws, and nothing to see in the porch light. She must have chased it into the woods, but how had she gotten so far ahead of him so quickly? He draws a breath to call out for her, but it dies in his chest as a crash resounds from inside.

Muriel turns and shoulders the door open, nearly knocking it off it's hinges. He stands in shock, looking into the main room. He sees nothing. Nothing broken, and no one there. Maranell, Faolan and Xavier are all gone, with no signs of any struggle. It's like they vanished. He rushes through the room to the bedroom door, throwing it open. Still nothing. He stares, horrified, his heart pounding so loud it seems to echo in the darkened, silent bedroom. His eyes scan the room again and again, as if he'd just missed them somehow. Until something catches his attention and his blood turns to ice. In the window at the far end of room, something stares back.

It's...wrong. Maranell's words come back to his mind 'not normal'. This thing certainly didn't look normal. It looked...like something trying to look human, but not very hard. It's skin is yellowy and...unsettlingly smooth, it has stringy, sickly looking black hair hanging to either side of it's face. It's grinning at him, an unnerving, open mouthed grin, it's teeth are...jagged? But not in a sharp way, in a...displaced way. Some are crooked or missing. The worse part are it's eyes, they're...wide. Unnaturally wide open and sunken into it's skull so they're rimmed in deep shadows.

He's frozen to the spot. Unable to break the creature's gaze. For a long time they stare at each other through the window, until at last the creature moves away, vanishing from sight. Muriel's muscle control returns with a jolt and he turns from the dark bedroom, rushing back to the open front door. He halts just outside, staring into the woods. It's watching him, now only it's eyes and teeth visible as it stands just outside the porch light's reach. There's a sound that might have been a giggle, if it came from something else, and the creature disappears into the darkness. He stares after it, the world around him still and quiet and dark, until finally he steps forward. Trailing after the creature into the black.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fanfic #the arcana muriel #muriel of the kokhuri #muriel the arcana #the arcana oc #The Determined Young Woman || Maranell #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #horror #tw horror #tw cussing #halloween

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carat82 · 5 years ago

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To my readers I ask a question- “What is the most important aspect you look for in a historical era heroine?”

Her wit? “Why should I be embarrassed I was fully clothed?”

Tenacious spirit? “My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

Intelligence? “It is not what we think or feel that makes us who we are. It is what we do...or fail to do.”

Her ability to stand up for herself? “I have as much soul as you-and full as much heart!”

Hair?

Clothes?

“Wait what?!”

“I though we were discussing aspects of the heroines endearing qualities? Her hair? Isn’t that kinda superficial?” Yes,yes it is. Yet even in our day and age despite the need for us to see strong independent women portrayed on screen, some tend to nit pick the appearance of our heroine more then anything else. People have become experts about an era they never lived in or rely solely on what they have seen in portraits of that time period or perhaps read. Let’s face it we all have done this to a certain extent. But when such things as hair styles or perhaps even some costume choices in film or TV adaptations are different from what have been taught are indictative of that era, is this a valid enough reason to insist the story is no longer worthy to watch or to discourage or disparage others from entertaining themselves with that series or movie? To some the answer to that question is an unequivocal yes. To others the answer is a resounding no. The purpose of this latest blog is to broaden our horizons as to why certain choices are made in regards to the outward appearance of our heroines - at perhaps the expense of “historical accuracy”. For those who stand by their views of 💯 accurate, this is in no way meant to offend or upset you. Just a different perspective.

So without further adui let’s begin shall we?

(*note- when I use the term “many” this does not imply that there there are not those who completely diagree with my assessment. I know the examples I’m using have some or perhaps many who do not regard such as good adaptions and even have issues with the acting. Again just using these examples as a whole)

Many adaptations of the Regency era have been done on film and TV over the past 80 years. One of the first was Pride and Prejudice with Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier

This is regarded by many as a fine and worthy adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. But let’s face it anything with Sir Olivier is perfect in my book🥰. Both these actors do a fine job portraying these classic characters. But look closer....what is she wearing?? Wait is that dress from the 1830-1840’s. Yes it is. Isn’t this is supposed to be 1813? Yes, yes it is. So what happened? Well movie studios, back in the golden age, were known to reuse costumes in an attempt to save on the bottom line. Since MGM had produced several movies set in the middle to late 1800’s up to that point and had plenty of costumes to therefore reuse, we have Elizabeth Bennet wearing a full style dress that would come into fashion years from when the book was set. However, this in no way takes away from the performance of the actors and the movie as a whole. Even the most strict historical accurate fans still watch and enjoy this film for what it is. Yet, when other adaptations of novels come along and choices in costuming and hair are made that are more “modern” and deviate somewhat from that time period, those films and shows are chided for not following the rules. Why? How is what the studios did back in the in 40’s to Pride and Prejudice different from what is done now? Why the double standard? Let’s skip forward to the 80’s and 90’s. We saw costume dramas stick very closely to the correct rules of dress and grooming. Several adaptations were delivered to our TV and movie screens that are now considered the gold standard- Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensability, Emma,etc. Majority of us still enjoy and praise these adaptations 20-30 years later. But I must admit that when I rewatch these now, there is a dated feel about them. Now don’t get me wrong, they are still wonderful but it is quite obvious that they were produced 20-30 years ago. The musical score, if it had one, was fairly basic. Nothing that really stayed with you. The costumes were fine and the hair was... OK. Again most of these things stayed the same from one adaptation to the next . What stood out in these movies and series was the acting! Regardless of what they wore or how their hair was styled, we loved these adaptations because of how the actor embraced these roles and delivered to us the audience a memorable version of a beloved character.

So as we entered the 2000’s, filmmakers, who love these stories as much as we do, decided that it was time to “update” the look and feel of a period piece. They wanted to reach a younger more modern audience that perhaps had never watched a classic period piece before. And there was nothing wrong with that! These directors wanted others to enjoy the classics as much as they did. But they were wise and realized that a fresh take was needed to entice and draw a new audience in. This could not be a costume drama that their mothers and grandmothers watched. No, they needed to appeal to a younger audience. Which is what ALL filmmakers do, regardless of the genre. It’s how the big and small screen survive. So out went the hair and wigs with the historically accurate styles. The costumes had a few more modern cuts to them but all in all stayed relatively the same. Some of the dialog had a few updates so that an audience with not much experience in 1800’s literature ( which let’s face it is majority of us) could understand. Musical scores were updated so as to play on our emotions and draw us deeper in the story. And the result- some very fine and worthy adaptations- Joe Wright’s 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Andrew Davies 2008 Sense and Sensabilty. Jim Hanlon’s 2009 Emma. Let’s just focus on one of these adaptations- 2005’s Pride and Prejudice.

Kiera Knighly delivers to us the audience a fine portrayal of Elizabeth Bennett. But notice her hair. It’s down in some scenes.

We had not seen this before in other adaptations yet here we have Lizzy approaching Netherfield with long flowing hair. Why? We as the audience need to connect with Elizabeth. Again remember- new audience, younger demographic. This tells us that she really doesn’t care what the opinions are of a certain Mr. Darcy and the Bingleys. She is being herself-walking to the house alone and not caring about the state of her tresses. Does this detract from the story and Kiera’s acting? No. It gave me the audience a new fresh way to appreciate her character. Joe Wright wasn’t trying to mimic adaptations of years past. Why should he? His Pride and Prejudice was a much needed change from that we had seen before. And guess what? It paid off. A younger audience who had never seen Pride and Prejudice came to love this movie and 15 years later this is still their go to PP. After all isn’t that what we all want? For more people to experience Jane Austen’s stories? Who says that they have to be portrayed the same way each and every time. Isn’t that kinda... boring? Predictable?

Now let’s skip ahead to 2019. If you have read my other two blogs you know where this is going. So if you don’t want to hear about my defense of Sanditon I suggest you turn back now.

Andrew Davies introduces to us a character of Jane Austen that has never been portrayed on the screen before-Charlotte Heywood.

And as such we do not know who or what her character is like. We find out that at 22 she had never left home, having grown up on a farm with 12 siblings. That alone tells us that her appearance is going to be what some call “modern” and out of place but what I call practical and normal. Her father,while respectable and gentleman, is a farmer. She more and likely had chores like anyone else. Do you really think she had the time to care if her hair is pinned up. Uhh...nope. The first scene we see her in she is shooting rabbits! This tells us she is not Elizabeth Bennet or Marianne Dashwood or Anne Elliot. And Miss Austen wasn’t trying to write her as such. She is her own person. And as such will have things that set her apart from other Austen characters. As the series progresses we come to to learn she is practical, intelligent, sweet, but naive and inexperienced. Davies also decided to make a choice that would serve as her hallmark- her shoulder length hair that she wears down most of the time. Again, filmmakers have to appeal to their current audience. And again, like Joe Wright, he was hoping to get a younger more modern audience to tune in and enjoy a period piece or perhaps a Jane Austen adaptation for the first time. Frankly, this was a clever move on his part. He needed to show throughout the series that this adventure to Sanditon is truly unlike anything she has ever experienced. Charlotte is full of youthful exuberance with those doe-like eyes that are longing to experience life outside sleepy Willingdon. But remember, that while we love her, she has a lot to learn and is truly out of her depth at first around some of the situations and people she encounters. However, despite that she is true to herself- which is also a hallmark of all Jane Austen heroines. So as such there is no reason Charlotte needs to change her hairstyle when she comes to Sanditon. She is accepted as who she is by those around her. She is our Charlotte Heywood- using her ingenuity to help with the growth of Sanditon, trying to be a good friend, and exploring her new surroundings. Her hair is the least of anyone’s worries. And as an audience we find that Charlotte’s unpinned tresses make her approachable.Unpretentious. Human. More like us. Is there anything wrong with that? No. Being historically accurate is all and well, but when that is placed above all else in a series or movie it runs the risk of being just another adaptation. And that does not draw in a new, younger, more modern audience. Regardless of whether you agree with that statement or not, that is how the entertainment business is run today. So please if any readers are on the fence to watch this series because of some more modern uses in hair and grooming I ask that you to accept why the production crew made these choices and give it a try. As us fans wait on baited breath to see if another network will pick up our beloved Sanditon and continue with a second season-just remember you may get your heroine wearing her hair up. After all, Jane Austen characters usually go through a metamorphosis of some kind due to the need to adapt, grow, and perhaps even survive. Our Charlotte may find herself more grown up and guarded after a summer spent in Sanditon and this could well show in her appearance next time we see her... or not. I guess we will have to wait and see.

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stellar-alley · 4 years ago

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Everfalls

•Chapter 14•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie hibernates under the covers in his bed while Richie finds himself in a pretty hairy situation.)

His face was pale, as if he had just seen a ghost. “Richie?” His voice shook, on the verge of tears. As if Eddie wasn’t emotional before, now he felt like he could cry at the fall of a pin.

Yes, Eddie was fine with Richie being close with the others, but he couldn’t watch Richie be close like that, like how close they were. Deep down Eddie knew that they were more than just close friends, maybe he was finally realizing that.

Richie reached out, “It’s not what it looks like, Eds-“.

“No, do not fucking call me that.” Eddie shook his head as the tears began to well in his eyes. Before anyone could get another word in, Eddie bolted. He ran down the stairs and made a sharp turn towards the back door. He didn’t want to leave, he just needed to be in his element, in nature, he needed air, to breath.

The fresh May evening air engulfed him as he burst out the back door. Eddie didn’t stop there, he kept going until he sat on the edge of the back patio. The commotion from inside the house drowned out by the Ancestor’s heavy breathing.

“E-Eddie?” A voice stuttered from behind him, “Ar-Are you okay?”

Eddie turned his head to see Bill had stepped out onto the porch. His hair glowed a little in the sun’s golden hour as he stepped towards the Ancestor.

Eddie turned back towards the yard, “I’m fine” he huffed.

The Denbrough’s had a nice backyard, the back was fenced in while the sides were left open, but there was still enough privacy to be able to enjoy your own yard. The grass was well kept and their garden seemed to have already been planted, even with how early in season it was.

“You sure? Cause y-you don’t look it.” Bill pointed out as he took another step towards him.

Eddie didn’t say anything, not when Bill stood beside him, or when he slowly crouched down to sit beside him.

“I know you a-and Richie are close. I-I can see it when you two are to-together, y-you two have something special.” Bill said as Eddie kept his gaze on the garden in front of them.

Yes we’re close, of course we’re close, we’re both fucking hybrids and I’m in… I-I, have a crush on him.

Something melted inside of Eddie, as if the realization opened something up deep inside of him.

“Yeah, we are… special” Eddie’s voice drifted off with the wind that blew by.

Special…. gay.

“N-now it just leaves me wo-wo- fuck. Now I wonder how s-special you really are.” Bill’s tone changed, suddenly it became something much more sinister as he jumped up from where he sat with Eddie.

Everything happened within an instant. Eddie barely even had time to process what Bill had said before a sudden gust of wind swept through his hair, his ears.

Edddie leaped off of the porch, eyes wide as he raked his hands through his hair and felt that he definitely wasn’t wearing his hat. His eyes darted to where his dad’s black beanie was held tightly in Bill’s grasp.

Now Eddie’s heart was racing but for a completely different reason. “Bill, I swear t-this isn’t what it looks like.” He held his hands up in defense as he took a step backwards.

“Y-Yeah? The-Then what is it like, E-Eds?”, the name sounded so wrong coming from his mouth, cause it wasn’t Richie. “What are y-you. A-And what the fuck do you have to do with my father’s de-“

The back door swung open and slammed against the outside wall, “BILL!” Richie’s voice shot out like a bullet. The werewolf had to try so hard to hold his eye colour, so far he was doing okay. But his claws had already grown out and were currently drawing blood from the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists.

“Eddie-“ Richie turned towards the other Ancestor but the rabbit was already gone. He used the sudden entrance as a distraction to flee, damn rabbit. He then noticed Eddie’s beanie. In Bill’s hand, he knew it well enough to identify it, he had studied it tens of times as he admired Eddie but now the sight of the hand me down filled the wolf with rage.

“What are you doing with that? Huh? Bill what the fuck did you do?” Richie growled, he took a step towards Bill when someone grabbed his arm. Richie jerked backwards to stare at Stan who stood behind him.

He’d followed behind Richie when the wolf sensed something was off, he made sure to tell the others some elaborate lie about Eddie having an asthma attack. So that way there wouldn’t be even more people on their case than there already was.

Stan had a specific stare he used when he needed to control, tame, Richie. It was similar to his normal stare, but this one was ice cold, stern, almost powerful. He used it in moments like this when he needed to grab ahold of the human side of Richie and make sure he wouldn't wolf out on him.

“You go get Eddie, and I will deal with Bill, alright?” Richie slowly nodded. “Do not fuck things up” Stan growled back as he let go of his arm.

Richie stomped down off of the patio. He took a step towards Bill and snatched Eddie’s hat out of his hands. Richie stormed off of the property. He caught Eddie’s scent quickly after he began searching for it. He knew it well enough considering the amount of time the two spent together. The wolf followed the trail for a block or so until it led him into the forest behind the residential area.

After the houses were fully behind him he unclenched his fists. Pain leaked from his palms as blood dripped from new wounds. He’s never felt this way with someone before. Whenever Richie looks up at Eddie to find that the bunny is already staring back at him, or whenever their hands accidentally brush up against each other, those are the times when he knew that there was something there, something more. Richie just didn’t want to admit it to himself because he knew Eddie didn’t feel the same way.

Richie stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a breathless Eddie who stood leaning against one of the various trees in the forest. “Eddie” Richie’s lips curved ever so slightly into a small smile. Even with everything that’d happened prior, he was still happy to see Eddie was safe.

The bunny’s ears perked up at the sound of his own name. Eddie slowly turned to look at Richie with his big tear filled doe eyes. Richie didn’t need heightened senses to hear Eddie’s breath hitch at the sight of the wolf. It just broke his heart even more when he did use his hearing to hear the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Richie.

“What are you doing here Rich?” Eddie sounded exhausted and weak.

“Bill thinks you have something to do with his dad’s death,” Richie said slowly. He slid his phone out from his back pocket and clicked a few things before holding up a photo of Zack Denbrough he’d taken from Bill’s conspiracy board. “T-That’s him,” Richie stated.

The world stopped spinning when Eddie saw him. Because now he was no longer just outside of Bill’s house with Richie. No… Now he stood on the outskirts of The All Lands. Before Eddie is an unconscious man who was currently bleeding out. The Ancestor didn’t know who he was, but what he did know was that this man had just been shot.

Eddie was wandering around the forests that surrounded The All Lands as Sonia requested he find the purple berries that were currently in blume, they made a very nice jam. Eddie had already filled his basket when he saw the man walking around the woods. Almost no one has ever gotten that close to The All Lands, almost.

The Ancestor crouched behind a cluster of rocks and observed the man as he pointed his large gun at one of the nearby deer. Yes Eddie didn’t want to get caught but he was a boy of the woods, and he wasn't about to let that doe die. He took a step forward and let a twig snap under the pressure of his foot.

Even the smallest of sound allerted the man of Eddie’s whereabouts. He pointed the gun at the rocks and shot before Eddie was able to make another move. The bullet ricocheted off of the rocks with a pang and embedded itself in the shoulder of the shooter.

The rest is patchy. There was a lot of blood, so much blood. If he kept bleeding at that rate he wouldn’t last more than 10 minutes out here. Eddie knew he had to do something, anything, because if there was one thing that Frank Kaspbrak taught his son was that you should always help those who really need it.

It didn’t matter whether Eddie saved his life then or if he let him bleed out in the magically kept grass of The All Lands, because The Council found out. They heard the gunshot. When Eddie was forced to explain what had happened, how close the human got, how much magic he used on him, they knew they couldn’t let either of them keep going. So they executed the hunter right then and there, in front of Eddie.

Those cold dead eyes haunted Eddie every day after. Just the fact that he was at fault for that man’s death made Eddie wish he had never left and just went through with The Council’s plans for him.

Back in the present, Eddie stared at those same eyes, but now they were filled with life and joy as they looked back at him from the screen of Richie’s phone. Eddie took a shaky step backwards almost as if the bullet had hit him in the shoulder, his knees wobble under him, they threatened to give out from beneath him.

Eddie looked up at Richie, who was currently just a blurry image as his tears had clouded over his vision, “When were you gonna tell me?”.

“I-I wanted to know for sure. I didn’t want to stress you out or-”

“No, Richie that was not your fucking call to make” Eddie spat, “I-I killed Bill’s dad, and you were gonna keep that from me?” His voice rose as everything that happened finally settled.

“Eddie it’s not your fault,” Richie reached out towards Eddie but the other stepped back.

He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, they rolled down his cheeks like hot lava. “You don’t know shit Tozier. You don’t know what happened that day, you don’t know how to fucking control your powers, you barely even know me.” Eddie shook his head as he took another step backwards.

“Eddie please-” Richie pleaded, his own eyes threatening to tear up.

“I-I can’t do this right now Richie…” Before Richie could even respond, Eddie had turned on his heels and disappeared into the forest, leaving the wolf all alone in the woods.

By some miracle Eddie found his way home that night. From there he stumbeled up the main stairs and into his house. He fell into bed, fully clothed, without any seoncd thoughts. Though he was exhasted, it took him hours to fall sleep. The memory of Bill’s dad dying replayed in Eddie’s mind as if he was watching netflix and had the movie on an infinite loop. When he did finally fall sleep it was well into the early hours of the morning. Eddie slept well into sunday afternoon and even when he had fully woken up he didn’t get out of bed, worried that if he got out from under the comforting covers of his bed that everything that’d happened would be real. He didn’t want to face reality, he didn’t want to have to face Bill and his acusations, or see Richie and all of his worries. The wolf was probably disguted that he ever got close to someone with a past like his.

Eddie groaned as he rolled over from one pillow to another pillow on his queen sized bed. The new pillow felt comfy and soft under his head, it was dry after all since his other one was pretty tear soaked at this point.

He yanked the sheets from where they had been laid over his head and pulled them down. He inhaled deeply, the fresh air did wonders for his lungs. Eddie let out a heavy sigh, “Fuck my life”.

A knock echoed out through his room, which only made his heart beat faster and his nerves worse.

“Honey, sweety is everything alright?” Maggie called out to her son from behind his locked bedroom door.

Derry’s resident werewolf, stared at himself in the mirror and exmaned the new look he was currantly rocking. He was at home so his ears and tail were out, which wasen’t helping his case at all.

Right after Eddie left, Richie stormed back to the Denbrough residence and went off on Bill for doing this to Eddie. He stopped when Stan pulled (read dragged) him into the hallway where he pratically slapped Richie as he tried to bring him back to reality.

“Richie your eyes” Stan hissed, pulling his phone out from his sweater pocket and showing Richie his yellow eyes in the selfie cam.

“Fuck, shit” Richie cursed as he pulled at his eye lids to get a better look.

Long story short after that Richie hid out in the bathroom for half an hour and when his eyes didn’t change back he bailed and called his parents to come pick him up.

Stan covered for him and dug himself into a deeper hole of lies, saying random shit like he was gonna go after Eddie and make sure he was alright. Honestly Stan wasen’t sure if the other bought it, but if they didn’t then they didn’t say anything about it.

The werewolf was bombareded by questions by his parents about him wolfing out and what the fuck happened to Eddie. Richie answered some of them, but locked himself in his room as soon as he got home, too emotionally tierd after everything and slept like a log.

Sunday morning when he woke up his eyes were still as yellow as ever, his mouth was full of fangs and his hands were all claws out. That’s not even the worst part, not only did he have the normal eyes and fangs, but now his hair was signicantly wilder than normal, his sideburns had grown significantly making him look like some 80’s porn star. Oh, also, the rest of his body hair (Legs & Arms) was darker and so much thicker. He was like in a half shift mode.

“What the fuck” richie gasped, anxiously raked his hands through his hair as his eyes grew as wide as the full moon he feared so much more now.

I’m so fucked. I’m not gonna be able to change back. I’m gonna be stuck in this. Half dog stage forever and ever-

Another knock echoed through the teen’s room, “Richie what’s going on in there I hear you spiraling?” A new voice called out, male, Wentworth’s, “Son you know we’re just here to help”.

“Please honey just open up” Maggie begged.

Richie sighed from the place he stood infront of his mirror. Of course he was spiraling, he looked like the fucking werewolf from that cheesy 80’s movie about the wolf that played basket ball.

“Richie come on-“ Wentworth started then was eventually cut off when the bedroom door to his sons room swung open, revealing his son… his very hair son. “Oh… Kid” Went huffed.

“D-Don’t fucking kid, me. Guys what the fuck is going on?” Richie questioned.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do Went” Maggie sighed as she ran a hand through her long brown hair, tugging at the ends.

Went reached out and placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder, he gave it a little squeeze. “I’ve never experienced anything like that, but I’m pretty sure he’s in some weird half wolf faze. It’s gotta be because of the upcoming full moon. That and whatever happened with Eddie last night” Went glanced away for a moment as he recalled the half an hour session he just had with his son. During that time he tried everything he knew about wolf shifting and controling his inner wolf. None of it worked. “But I have no clue what to do Mags” Went admitted.

The wife turned to her husband, she moved her hand up to cup his cheek, she tilted his face so that he was turned towards her. Maggie shared a look with Wentworth. “Let’s just wait it out? Maybe he’s just stressedd over something? It can’t last forever can it?” She suggested.

No, it didn’t last forever, but it did last the rest of Sunday. Then when Richie woke up the next morning he was sad to see nothing had changed. Nothing had changed when it was time for Richie to go to school, which he obviously couldn’t do because he was half fucking werewolf. So he spent the day at home, alone. As much as Wentworth and Maggie wanted to stay home with their wolf of a son, he wasen’t in any pain, or danger. Plus they knew he could handle himself if something happened so they left for work, leaving Richie alone, for the rest of the day.

He tried texting Eddie, multiple times. Sadly though he was met with a text that wasen’t sent by Eddie.

Eddie Spaghetti <3:

Richie: Eddie how many times do you have to say I’m sorry before you answer me?

Eddie: Richie, it’s me, Stan. Eddie forgot his phone last night at Bill’s, I found it before Bill had a chance to find it and hack it. So please, for the love of god, stop blowing up this phone.

Richie didn’t even bother responding, he just dropped his phone onto the carpeted floor of his room and sighed for about the thousandth time today.

“Fuck me, gently with a chainsaw“ Richie sang out before flopping onto his bed.

He tried to do various things to keep him busy, like finish his homework, but he got frustrated and snapped his pencil. Yeah, his emotions were also kinda all haywire, which affected his powers. Then he tried to read some comics, but ended up shredding them with his claws. Hell he even tried to clean his damn room but he made his jeans into ripped jeans, then gave up. Plus he can’t go outside unless he covered up like a vampire in the daylight, so he was stuck laying in an uncomfortable position in bed, alone.

Maggie had pulled into the driveway just as Wentworth stepped out of his car. She quickly parked in her normal spot on the driveway and went to meet her husband where he waited for her, leaning against his car door.

“How you doin’?” He wiggled his eyebrows which got an eye roll from Maggie.

She hated to break whatever moment they were having but she got straight to the point, “Hon I think we should take him to Eddie”.

Went sighed, “Really? You think so?” his shoulder sagged.

“Yes, Went, aside from you he’s the only one who might have any idea how to change him back. It’s not like we can just keep him here until the full moon, I think we both know that wouldn’t work” She sighed at the thought of her half wolf son going through cabin fever.

“I know, Mags, but things are tense between the boys right now, I don’t want to make it worse” He put his hands on her shoulders.

She shook his hands off and turned to make her way towards the front door, “Well they’re just gonna have to get over it!” she called over her shoulder.

“No- No fucking way am I seeing Eddie after what happened at Bill’s. He’d probably curse me out or some shit” Were the words Richie had shouted at his parents when they suggested bringing him to Eddie’s. Then Wentworth proceeded to lift his son off the ground and tossed him over his shoulder like a potato sack and carried him out to the car.

“Son just cause we’re both werewolves doesn't mean I’m not stronger than you” Went mused as he put a sulking Richie into his car.

Richie gave up on struggling as he knew that once his dad had his mind set on something, nothing would be able to stop him. So he just sat and sulked in the back of his dad’s car as they drove down the familiar road to Eddie’s. He recalled the days when he drove those same roads in his little blue jeep, with Eddie by his side, hand in hand. When things quieted down, the music stopped and their conversation came to a halt, they would simply sit in silence. It wasn’t awkward or tense, but it was good, it felt right. As if in those moments, it felt as if everything was okay.

When Wentworth pulled into the roundabout, Richie pulled the hood of his sweater over his head, yanked on the drawstrings to tighten it’s grasp and shoved his hands into his pockets, and slid a pair of terminator sunglasses over his normal glasses. He silently led the way into the forest, shoulders slouched, eyes on the forest floor beneath him. Walking that path, had become muscle memory to him. He let his feet take him where he needed to go, and he walked and walked until he finally reached the clearing before the field. The evening sun shone down into his eyes, he raised a hand to block the rays.

“S’up here” Richie pointed to the field and kept going.

Richie stopped a couple feet before the forcefield, gestured towards it to his parents. “It’s protected, invisible, we won’t be able to go in until he lets us” He said before he took another step back.

Maggie gave her son a nod as she got the feeling he didn’t want to do anymore talking than he needed to. She glanced over at Went who returned her nod, “Eddie? Honey it’s us” Maggie called out, her gaze flickering between the various areas in the field, unsure of where she should be looking.

Then they waited a couple minutes until a voice finally broke the silence. “What do you want?” Eddie’s voice called out from overhead, causing their heads to turn in the direction of the voice, which was up. It was as if his voice was being projected from somewhere above, from the forcefield. His voice didn’t sound mad, if anything it was more curious, worried.

Wentworth stepped up, “We need your help”.

“With what?” Eddie asked.

Went sighed, obviously tired and fed up of waiting. He walked towards his son and yanked his hood off as well as his sunglasses.

Richie let out something between a yelp and a gasp at the sudden forcefulness. His yellow eyes burned at the sudden exposure to the sunlight. The wolf ears on top of his head perked up and swayed with the passing wind. Richie starred up towards the spot he knew the house sat.

Went was done waiting. His son could possibly be in danger if he didn’t change back. He had tried everything and he hated the fact that he couldn’t help his own kid. He felt helpless. Went always felt guilty about passing on that wolf gene to Richie, he may have not been ashamed of being a werewolf but he sure as hell knew it wasn't easy. So if Eddie was his last chance at getting his son back, then he was sure as hell gonna take it.

“Son open up!” Went demanded with a stern tone. He hadn't realized that he still had a grip on Richie’s hood. His son shoved his dad away, shaking off his touch.

“Alright you can come in” Eddie called out to them from overhead.

Richie sighed and pushed passed his dad, he walked side by side with his mother through the Forcefield. The wolf watched with a pleased look on his face as he watched his mother’s face when she finally saw the house materialize in front of her.

Eddie stepped outside onto the porch when they arrived. He nodded to them and got straight to the point, “What happened?”. The rabbit tried to keep a neutral yet serious face but he couldn’t help the worry that creased his eyebrows.

When Richie didn’t answer, Maggie cut in, “He hasn't shifted back since Bill’s” she informed him.

The rabbit looked over the wolf, gave him a once over before tilting his head towards the door, “Come in” he advised as he led the way into his house.

Eddie led them into his house, he gave a quick tour as they walked towards the kitchen. Just pointing to the rooms as they passed. He sat them down at the main table in the kitchen then proceeded to explain his plan while he searched for ingredients in his cupboards, “I have a natural remedy that should work, I ah-” he paused for a moment to think about where he had placed the final ingredient, “-Need to go grab something upstairs” he said before he proceeded to go into his room to grab the last ingredient off the list which he had memorized from an old potion he had studied back in The All Lands.

But once he entered his room he released a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding. Eddie ran a shaky hand through his hair and let out an equally as shaky sigh.

Suddenly his bunny ears perked up before a voice broke the silence, “You okay Eds?” Richie asked quietly.

Eddie didn’t bother turning around, “No… No Rich I’m not okay” he responded.

“I am sorry, you know that right?” Richie asked, sincerity laced his voice. He let out a little huff of air through his nose, “If you had your phone with you- then you would’ve seen the zillion texts I sent you. I was worried sick” his voice didn’t sound worried, he was worried before, now he just wanted to make sure Eddie was okay. “I’m sorry I hid it from you. I just wanted to protect you, I know you’ve been through so much shit already and I don’t wanna see you go through anything else” When Eddie didn’t respond Richie continued, “Eddie please talk to me” he begged weakly.

Eddie finally turned to look at Richie, if he wasn't worried before then he was for sure worried now. The poor guy was fully (half) wolfing out. Eddie looked into his eyes and could see how tired he was.

“Richie I just…” Eddie contemplated the idea for a split second, just a split second, “I think there might be something else, because back in the uh” he waved his hand around as he tried to explain his point, “The All Lands” he blurted, “The half change could also be caused by extreme stress and anxiety, which I know could be something that you’re going through because of ya know… everything that happened at Bill’s” Eddie said anxiously.

Richie’s eyes grew as if he was just realizing now how much stress he’s been under. “Yeah” he rubbed the back of his neck and noticed how long his hair had gotten, “that would explain a lot” he laughed nervously. “I just…” Richie started, he paused to think over his words, took a step closer to Eddie and continued. “Eddie I really care about you, that’s why I freaked out so much at Bill’s, because I Love you and I can’t-” RIchie was cut off before he even realized what he had admitted.

Eddie knew he was just going to repeat half the points he already stated so he just decided to cut to the chase. The bunny closed the distance between between them, reached up behind Richie’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him. It was soft, but quick. Eddie realized Richie wasen’t responding which caused him to go stiff. He pulled away with a quiet gasp.

“I-I’m sorry Richie I shouldn’t have done-“ Eddie stopped when Richie’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him in to kiss him back. Richie’s lips were soft yet raw, probably from how often he’s been anxiously biting his lips with his new fangs.

When their lips first touched it sent fireworks exploding in both of their chests, it was tender yet passionate. They moved together as if it was something they’d done tens of times before. When they broke apart they were both breathless.

“So you care too?” Richie glanced away, in hopes that Eddie wouldn’t see how red his cheeks had become.

“Yes Rich...” Eddie said quietly as he pulled Richie down and pressed his foreheads against the others’. “I love you too Chee” he whispered into Richie’s ear.

Richie let out something of a moan, which surpsied even himself before he responded, “Fuck I love when you call me that”. Their noses knocked together and Richie leaned down and kissed Eddie again.

Eddie pulled away again, Richie watched the bunny’s big doe eyes wander up and give him a once over, “See I told you it’d work” he lightly giggled.

Richie smirked nervously down at Eddie, “W-What?”.

“Look” Eddie gestured to Richie.

The wolf looked down at himself and saw his hands, his normal hands, no claws, no extra hair. His hand shot up to his teeth where he felt that they were no sharper than any other human’s teeth. “Oh thank god” he sighed in relief.

Richie smiled at Eddie, “Are we good?” His smile faltered a bit at Eddie’s blank expression.

Eddie happily shook his head, got up on his tippy toes and planted a quick kiss on Richie’s lips, “We’re more than good” he confirmed.

The two made their way down the stairs hand in hand, a gesture they both enjoyed a lot more than they had realized before.

Maggie noticed, but didn’t say anything. So did Went, but he wasn't as subtle.

He clapped his son on the back “Son! Good to see you’re back to normal” He beamed.

“So everything is… Okay here?” Maggie tiptoed around the situation. She didn’t want to ask them directly but she had to ask.

Richie waved his free hand around as if he was brushing the question away, “yeah, yep, better than ever”.

Eddie rolled his eyes at the comment, but his hand never left Richie’s.

“Do you guys mind if Richie stays over… For a bit?” Eddie glanced up at Richie who stared down at him with curiosity as if he was thinking what are you and your cute ass doing? Actually that’s exactly what he was thinking. “We have some stuff to sort out,” Eddie finished.

Went and Maggie shared a look, “Well, I guess that’s alright” Maggie responded first.

“Yeah just know, no glove no love” Went said and pointed at both of them, amusement filled his voice.

“Oh dear god!” Richie groaned and rolled his neck.

“OKay okay okay” Wentworth raised his hands in defense. “We’ll be on our way I guess” he said and wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he led her towards the main door.

Richie and Eddie walked them out and waited until they left the property to close the door and head back into the house.

Eddie watched Richie as he took a seat on the sofa and got all comfy,the way his hair (now back to its normal length), fell in his face, the way his big brown eyes scanned his face and how they light up when he smiles. For a second he questioned it, why do I think like this, especially when he’s around. It’s just like Bill said, we’re special… it’s something more, it’s a crush.

That’s probably what prompted him to ask, “So… What about, us?”. Eddie took a seat beside Richie.

“Us?” Richie questioned with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah, us” Eddie confirmed, “What we did upstairs wouldn’t really be deemed a normal things friends do” He nervously laughed.

“Oh yeah that'' Richie realized. Shit I kinda thought that was some horny dream caused by the whole werewolf thing… I wasn't sure if he liked me back, but I guess literally kissing someone has gotta prove something.

Richie finally met Eddie’s gaze, his big doe eyes made his heart do a fucking gymnastic routine, “I guess we could try to be, more” Richie's lips curved into the smallest smile.

“Would you want to?” Eddie asked, eyes filled with anticipation.

“Yeah… I'd like that a lot Eds- I-I’d love that” Richie said sheepishly, looking at Eddie with heart eyes. “Do we wanna be official or-?” Richie asked anxiously as he didn’t want to lose the spark.

Eddie’s eyes grew for only a moment before they crinkled as he smiled, “I’m good with that if you are”.

“Wait seriously?” Richie asked with excitement, he sat up a little straighter as he leaned closer to Eddie.

“Yeah, w-why do you not want to?” Eddie’s stomach dropped for a moment. Richie must’ve noticed cause he immediately took Eddie’s hands in his and gave them a supportive squeeze.

“No- baby, I just thought you would want to go on a first date first or something” Richie supplied

Eddie’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Well, yeah. I’d like to at some point but for now, let’s just do this” Eddie declared as he leaned in and kissed his boyfriend.

Word Count: 5621

DAMN THIS WAS A LONG CHAPTER! If you're wondering why, it's because chapter 14 on its own was only 1800 words and that really short so i merged chapters 14 and 15 to make a MEGA CHAPTER! So yeah I hope y'all liked it! And as I did merge two chapters the final chapter count of Everfalls will go from 22 to 21.

But yes back to this chapter, THE ANGST, THE FLUFF! WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? You'll just have to stick around and find out!

As you're reading this I'm currently at my Zia's (Aunts) Cottage! And I'm probably finishing up my new Spiderman Eddie Au, which you should defiently go check out! The first chapter is up on my Tumblr (stellar-alley) and Ao3 (Stellar_Alley).

And don’t forget to check me out on Instagram @Stellar.Cosplays if you want to see more of my real life and some behind the scenes content!

Welp that's all from me guys, don't forget to like comment and share!

Until next time,

So Long and Goodnight!

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catsafarithewriter · 5 years ago

Note

“You’re my first choice. Always. Okay?” for either Louise/Sephie or Lune/Yuki?

A/N: Louise & Sephie it is! (I’m eternally weak for those two.) This went down a human AU rabbit hole, with Louise and Baron being not siblings, but engaged. This turned out rather bitty, and has some sad moments, but it ends happily, I promise!

They had been betrothed for as long as Louise could remember. Longer, even; the records stated that her parents had barely waited until her first birthday before agreeing to the union with the von Gikkingens.

A fine family, everyone was quick to assure her any time she expressed her doubts. True, normally a baron wouldn’t even be considered a suitable match for the daughter of a duke - as titles went, baroncy was about as far down you could go without falling off the nobility ladder entirely - but his line was a long-standing favourite of the royal family. If it wasn’t her, it would be some other high-ranking young lady to snatch him up.

Or so everyone kept reminding her.

And she tried.

She really did try to love him the way a fiancee should.

And, fair enough, he wasn’t a bad match. She could have had worse. He wasn’t unkind or cruel; he respected the fact that they’d both been thrown into this commitment with little - or no - say so, and was actually funny and considerate and intelligent.

But there was still no spark.

Louise was a realist. She knew that marrying for love was impractical; that betrothees often learnt to care for one another; that she was lucky in that at least he was only a few years her senior... but still...

He was a good companion. A childhood friend. A brother to her. She could imagine spending her life alongside him, but as his wife? As the woman of the household, mother of his children?

Her future stretched out before her, known and secure and dull; a path paved before she even took her first steps. Where was the excitement? The mystery? The chemistry? Where was the romance?

“We could always adopt,” Humbert says during a quiet moment of yet another royal ball, this one celebrating an engagement, one similarly built out of politics and logic. She doesn’t mind balls - they’re one of the few chances they’re able to escape the usually ever-present chaperones and really talk.

“Pardon?” Her mind is on other things, in particular the sad eyes of their future queen-to-be.

“Adoption,” he repeats. “Once we’re married, there’ll be expectations of an heir. If we time it right, no one has to be any the wiser. We retire to a country house for a year, return with a child, hope it takes after one of us.”

“We’ll have to time it well,” she says, but her mind is still on other things; the words come out almost automatic. “Bribe the right people to keep them from tattling...”

“I have people at my estate we can trust.”

She is silent for a moment. She watches the royal fiancee turn down another invitation to dance. “Is this what you really want?” she asks softly. “To spend the rest of our lives living a lie?”

“If you have any other ideas, I’m listening.”

She chews her bottom lip. “We could always refuse.”

There is a whole heartbeat before they both give a bark of laughter. It passes as quickly as it comes, but the humour persists in the corner of their lips.

“Have you ever considered eloping?” she asks.

He gives a most ungentlemanly snort. She wonders who he’s been spending time around to pick up such a habit. Certainly not either of their parents. “I think that would somewhat defeat the objective.”

“Not together. With someone else.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, but there’s something sad in his silence. “I confess I have never felt such a way about someone.” He gazes across the ballroom, as if in search of that long sought-after connection, and then to her. “Have you?”

“Never enough to elope,” she answers. She doesn’t speak of how it’s a choice. That every lingering look and stray spark is haunted by the knowledge of the inevitable hardships that would follow up if she allowed herself to feel any such way.

She doesn’t say any of this, but she suspects she doesn’t need to. Sometimes having a best friend for a fiance is a double-edged sword.

He catches the way her gaze slides once more to the lonely royal fiancee, and gives a low chuckle. “Do you want an introduction?”

“She looks so sad.”

“She looks like she needs a friend.” He holds out his arm in the very model of a doting fiance. “Shall we?”

She takes the arm and allows herself to be led to the King’s table. The King, as usual, beams at the von Gikkingen presence and shoots what he probably thinks as a charming grin Louise’s way. She ignores the way her skin crawls.

“Baron,” he croons, as if there’s only one baron worth knowing, “How wonderful to see you join us. And your lady.” He winks. Louise smiles thinly. “How’s it going, babe?”

The improper endearment - if endearment is indeed the right word - has long lost its sting after the many times she’s heard the King lavish it upon the ladies of court. She still dislikes it.

The King continues, as if he’d never asked a question, and gestures broadly to the woman by his side. “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my bride-to-be, have you?”

Humbert bows. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

She tips her head graciously back, loose black curls falling about her face and Louise has to remind herself to breath. “The pleasure’s all mine, Baron von Gikkingen. I’ve heard tales of your family’s involvement in this kingdom. I can only hope you are also made of such stock.” Her eyes brush past Louise. “And this must be your wife, I presume.”

“Fiancee,” they correct simultaneously.

“Ah,” the foreign princess says. There’s something knowing in that look that leaves Louise glad the King isn’t half as perceptive.

“In fact,” Humbert proceeds - Louise is sure he saw the look also, but has always had a talent for seeming unruffled - “that’s exactly what we’re here for. Since myself and my fiancee shall be in the palace frequently after our wedding, it seems sensible for the two ladies to get acquainted.”

Louise shoots Humbert a look. He ignores it.

The King claps his hands. “An excellent idea.”

Neither ladies move, and Humbert leans in to Louise. “Now is when you ask Her Highness for a dance.”

Louise reddens, embarrassed more that Humbert had to prompt her, of all people, and holds out a hand to the foreign princess. “Your Highness,” she manages, “would you care to dance?”

“I’m sorry about my fiance,” Louise apologises as she draws the Princess out onto the dance floor. “He tends to think he’s helping by meddling.”

“Men are exceptionally good at that,” the Princess replies, and Louise wonders if there’s anyone she’s specifically thinking of. “And I know your... fiance’s name,” and the way she refers to Humbert makes Louise worry their platonic status is obvious, “but I believe he omitted yours, Lady...”

Belatedly, Louise realises both men forwent naming their brides. “Louise,” she says. “Louise DuBois. Princess...?”

“Persephone. Soon to be Queen.” And there’s the curl of her lip - almost imperceptible - as she says it. A trophy queen, and they both know it.

“How soon?”

“The end of summer,” the Princess answers, and her eyes drift to the winter trees outside. “Planning a royal wedding takes time. And you?”

It takes Louise a moment to register she’s being questioned about her own wedding to Humbert. For a moment, a simpler moment, she had forgotten. “Midsummer. The wedding has been on the table for twenty years; our parents are content to wait a few more seasons.” Even if it had taken some persuasion to give them that much grace.

“Betrothed?”

“Since we were children.”

A new song starts, and the Princess moves into place, stepping opposite Louise. She may have led the life of royalty, but she’s taller than Louise, her shoulders broad and her arms strong, and Louise’s heart stutters as the Princess gently takes her hand. The Princess’s eyes catch on the table where both their fiances watch. “From the stories I’ve heard, he sounds to be a good man.” Her gaze turns to Louise, questioning.

“Indeed,” Louise says automatically. “Any lady would be lucky to have him? And the King? What have you heard of him?”

The Princess’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Any princess would be lucky to have him,” she echoes.

She sees the Princess frequently in the coming months - enough so that any gentleman-caller would have raised questions, but Louise goes unnoticed - and before the winter is out, the Princess is Persephone and no longer Your Highness.

They become fast friends, bound by the shared fate of a chosen husband they hold no romantic interest in.

“He’s like a brother to me,” she tells Persephone once. “I love him... but not in that way. Not in the way I’m meant to.”

They sit at opposite ends of the library window seat, a unread book open in each of their laps and the tresses of their dresses overlapping. Louise’s mind skitters each time their toes brush.

Persephone runs a thumb absent-mindedly along the pages of her book. In the otherwise silent room, Louise can hear the rustle it makes. “And he feels the same way about you?”

“Yes.” She hesitates, unsure of how much to shed. “I don’t think he often feels that way about people anyway. At least we both know where we stand. If it comes to it, we can manage.” There are worse fates than an unwanted engagement to one’s best friend.

The rustle of pages continue, faster. Louise isn’t sure Persephone even knows she’s doing it. “And yourself?” the Princess asks. She’s not meeting Louise’s gaze, staring out into the royal gardens instead, and Louise can’t read the emotion. “Do you feel that way about people?”

“Yes.”

“Men?”

“Both. Either. Any.”

Persephone’s eyes flicker to Louise then, and the trepidation in them is not from the confession, Louise knows, but from the realities it brings; the truth they’ve both been hiding from is suddenly real and present and possible.

“You?” Louise asks.

Persephone is back to watching the gardens. Her next words are so quiet, Louise almost misses them. “Just the ladies.”

“Run away with me?”

The royal gardens are quiet, still cold even as spring takes hold, and Louise’s laugh bounces off the decorative hedges with abandon. They’re alone, the evening air drawing in, and they sit comfortably beneath a canopied archway. An ironworked seat is settled beneath its boughs, and Louise savours the warmth of her companion. In the privacy of the garden she allows herself to murmure, “I would love to.”

There’s no relieved sigh or excited gasp from Persephone, only the long breath of resignation. “But?” she prompts.

“Humbert.”

“He wants the marriage no more than you.”

Louise doesn’t answer immediately. She carefully puts her thoughts into order. “If I don’t marry him, his family will force him to wed some other lady.” She thinks of the lonely way he watches the world. “Someone who doesn’t know him the way I do, who will expect... more than he can give.”

Persephone is silent. Then, quietly, “I know how he feels.”

The truth of that hits Louise like a cannonball, and her mind switches off before it can remind her of the future laid out for Persephone.

She takes Persephone’s hand and she doesn’t let go. “We have until the end of summer. We’ll find a way,” she promises.

Louise stands before the mirror in her wedding gown and tries to hide the tears. Her mother mistakes them for tears of joy and congratulates her daughter, once again, on a match Louise had no say in.

“The prestige we’ll get - the family will finally gain the respect it deserves with this union,” Lady Elizabeth fusses, checking once more over the lacing. “Finally the DuBoises will join the von Gikkingens at the King’s side. You’ve done fantastically, my dear.” She pecks her daughter on the cheek; an action that immediately makes Louise want to rub the skin clear of the sensation. “We’re all so proud of you.”

Louise wonders if Humbert is receiving the same empty platitudes she is - the declarations of conditional love and pride from parents - and if he’s able to accept them with the same polite manner he wields like armour.

As her mother leaves, Louise does scrub at her cheek. The provisional love lingers like a smear on her skin. Crawling.

With a choking sound like a wounded animal, she reaches for the buttons along the dress’s spine and attempts to undo them. Two come off in her hand before familiar hands gently take over.

“Rejoice,” Sephie says softly. Plainly. “You’re to be married tomorrow. The best day of your life.”

The gown falls from her and Louise is left shaking in the simple dress layered beneath. She falls back, sobbing as she leans into Sephie’s embrace.

“I thought I could do this,” she manages in a hoarse whisper. “Give us another month to find the solution before your wedding. But to hear them all talk...”

Sephie makes soothing noises and slowly, with the comfort of her hold, the panic subsides. Louise’s breathing returns under control, and she makes the decision without thinking. “Let’s do it,” she says. “Let’s run away together.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“You’re not going to wish there were another choice-”

Louise’s hand snaps around Sephie’s wrist. “You’re my first choice,” she promises fervently, all fear gone with the knowledge of that simple, unshakable truth. “Always. Okay?”

The shock at Louise’s abrupt grip fades within heartbeats, and Sephie leans in, their foreheads touch in an achingly intimate gesture. “And you’re mine,” she whispers back. “Forever.”

There are multiple details to plan with elopement and Louise has considered none of them. Instead she stands in the starlit stables with a bag in one hand and her lover’s hand in the other and feels like she holds the world.

Almost.

“We should have told Humbert,” she says as she shifts the horses from their boxes. “He deserves to know.”

Sephie pulls a couple of saddles down from the wall. “And leave him an accessory to our elopement? The less he knows, the safer he’ll be.”

“He agrees.”

Both women jolt. Leaning against the stable door is a tall, thin figure. “Evening, ladies. Going for an nighttime ride, are we?”

He steps into the lamplight, and Louise recognises the royal physician, Toto; a friend, but one under the payroll of the King.

Sephie steps forward, suddenly no longer a giddy elopee, but the queen she was due to become. “Doctor, what are you doing here?”

“Both your fiances wanted me to keep an eye on the two of you.” There’s an amused glint in his eyes as he addresses the Princess. “With all the time you’ve spent on the von Gikkingen estate, the King was beginning to worry you were going to elope with the baron.”

“And Humbert?” Louise prompts.

“Like I said,” Toto repeats, “he wants me to keep an eye on you.” He brings another horse forward. “With all the adventure you’re due to have, he thinks you might be needing the best physician loyalty can buy.” He smiles then. “He figured you might be thinking about pulling a stunt like this, and he apologises that he can’t see you off in person, but ignorance is the best form of deniability.”

“Anything else?”

“He did ask me to pass along a message. I think the general gist of it was: Don’t worry about me, come back soon, and about time you did this.”

“The general gist?”

“He used longer words, but the meaning’s the same.”

“What about my fiance?” Sephie asks. “Your King. What about his orders?”

“My orders were to prevent you from eloping with the baron.” Toto inclines his head. “Since you are, indeed, not eloping with the baron, his orders are fulfilled.”

“He’ll want your head.”

“He’ll have to catch me first.” Toto meets their gazes, and if there’s any deceit in them, Louise cannot see it.

“Humbert will simply be wedded off to another lady,” Louise says. “He knows that, right?”

“He thinks the shame of being abandoned the night before his wedding will detour too many proposals in the immediate future and, beyond that, he’s thinking that a curse might work.” At Louise’s expression, Toto laughs. “Nothing major, just a transformation curse or something so he can enjoy some peace and quiet. Of course, if we come across any such spells in our travels...”

“We’ll know to keep an eye out.” Louise feels Sephie stand beside her, and she leans against her love’s warmth. “He knows I’m sorry, right?” she says quietly. “For leaving him like this. I love him, but...”

Toto holds up a hand. “He knows. And he understands.”

Sephie gently takes Louise’s hand in hers and places a kiss on her cheek. “We should go,” she says. “Before someone less understanding finds us.”

Louise exhales, and something unfurls within her. It feels like hope.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Let’s go.”

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slothgiirl · 6 years ago

Text

blinding part 6 (a theo raeken story)

mariella gallagher, lydia’s younger cousin, has always had a soft spot for theo raeken, and now that they’ve brought him back to help, she can’t seem to help herself when it comes to him. it also doesn’t help that she’s slowly losing her grip on whatever powers she has as an empath.

ao3 // part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5

Liam looks over at me, “Mari, get behind me. If anything happens,” his eyes full of worry, none of the bitterness from earlier because at the end of the day the bond between us all, between pack, meant more then anything.

We’d spend hours after school with the whole pack together, feeling stupid as we traced Scott’s pack symbol into the dirt, laughing at how serious and solemn Scott had been then. It had worked to his credit.

We’d talked and laughed and things had felt good, had felt back to normal again, stronger than that because we’d been tested once more and survived, all the stronger for it.

Bone heals stronger after it breaks, and so had we.

“Don’t say that,” I says, lips drawn, “nothings going to happen.”

“But if it does,” he says grimly, no longer the dumb teenager who jumped off his roof and into the pool because if he missed he’d heal, “run.”

“Okay.”

He nods and walks to the door, placing himself between me and the ghost riders, Theo’s face impassive as he watches the corridor. My mind instinctively reach for him, the hard and sharp sting of jealousy and longing bleeding through despite his best efforts.

On anyone else it would be imperceptible, but he’s such a blank slate anything that manages to slip by stands out.

He still wants a pack, the wolf in him lonely, the human in him just wanting to belong after so long.

“So what’s the plan,” Theo says, without ceremony.

“We rush them and run for it,” Liam says, more of a question then statement.

“I really hate your plans.”

“Shut up Theo.”

They wordlessly move the metal table into position and I can’t help the sharp bitter feeling that coils in my chest at my lack of ability to help, to do anything in a fight. Always reliant on others to do the fighting for me.

It wasn’t too bad when it was Lydia or Mason, both more brain and cunning that more then evened the odds, but even Stiles went around kicking up a fuss when overpowered.

I had none of their ability to figure things out, to take all the pieces and help in a real tangible way. I hated it.

The slight metallic clang of spurs sounds across the linoleum floor and Theo and Liam tense up, both their bodies ready to spring into action.

They’re all too empty and cold to sense how many there might be outside, blending into each other, none of the million little quirks that distinguished one persons happiness from another’s joy.

A ghost rider comes to a still outside the doors and the boys burst through, ramming the ghost rider into the wall and knocking it out cold. Its unconsciousness feels no different from its awakened state, sending a chill running down my spine.

One goes down and another four take its place.

“Time to run,” I mutter, walking backwards, not wiling to let them out of my eyesight as they filled my bones with ice, “again.”

“Hide with the dead,” Theo says, already taking a step back.

Liam turns, breaking into a run and pulling me with him, “it was worth a try,” his hand iron around my wrist as he shoves me around the corner and into safety, Theo on our heels.

Gunshots ring out behind us, the whooshing sound filling the hall as they explode on contact.

Liam waits until they reach us, just as they’re turning to launch himself claws first at them, tackling the first one he can to the ground and bolting up, a shot narrowly missing his head as he turns to face the next ghost rider, the one on the floor already getting up.

Theo cocks his head over at me before following suit, ghost of a smile on his lips and for a second I believe he can take them all before he throws the ghost rider taking aim at Liam against a wall.

I push my hands into my temples as the throbbing pain that rises whenever they appear surges once more, threatening to split my head open, the numbing pain emanating from my head.

Goosebumps appear on my arms as I try to imagine a wall, building it slowly, laying a layer of brick, pressing in the motor between each piece.

My name is Mariella Gallagher.

I am seventeen years old.

My name is Mariella Gallagher.

My cousin is Lydia Martin.

I live in Beacon Hills.

My name is-

I look up into the barrel of a gun, the ghost rider clicking off the safety and I let go, the hands clutching my skull relaxing their hold on my hair. Ice in my veins, numb, and peer right up at it.

Feeling as raw and empty as the ghost rider appeared, a black mirror.

It turned, face sliding from mine as Theo grabs a hold of it, dragging it away-away from. . .me? I shake my head, caching my breathe as I watch, everything playing out in front of me, feeling disconnected.

No sounds, no smells, nothing.

My head tilting as I see but can’t comprehend, threads of thought evaporating as soon as I try and tie them together. Nothing.

Nothing.

I feel scrubbed raw and bloody, head lightheaded the way I always do after a long cry.

Liam and Theo lock the ghost riders into a room but even the colors seem leeched from the world. Everything that happens. . .I feel disconnected, pulled away from the . . .my body isn’t real?

Movements slow, air thick like. . .honey. . .I could blow away like smoke in the air. Blow far far away.

East of sun and west of moon.

“El,” someone calls distantly. “El?”

I peer at a girl, eyes vacant as she stands still. A boy’s hand on her cheek as he turns her chin towards him.

I think that was-is. . .

“huh,” I ask, looking wildly around.

“Stay with me El,” Theo whispers.

“They’re everywhere,” Liam notes, looking curiously at us while he listened as best as he was able to, tracking the ghost riders movements on different floors.

“Good,” I note. One less thing for Lydia and Scott to worry about. They’d remember Stiles and Malia and Kira could take any wayward ghost riders that hadn’t come here.

“Really,” Theo snarls, looking at us both disbelieving, mossy eyes flat, sneering, “you really need me to remind you that getting captured by the ghost riders isn’t going to help save your friends?”

Before Liam can snap back, eyes flashing at Theo, the silhouettes of more oncoming ghost riders fills the hall like macabre shadow puppets.

Instead, he sighs, “we’re all getting caught. You can do it while you’re running. I’m going down fighting.”

I laugh in spite of myself, “like big damn heroes,” smiling over at Liam. It feels wrong. My lips smiling even as the terror of being taken, the look in Hayden’s eyes as she resigned herself to her fate, make me want to scream and never stop. To scream until my throat goes hoarse.

I turn to face the oncoming riders, Liam growling besides me, claws sharp.

“Don’t be stupid El,” Theo utters, “go.”

“El,” he snarls.

I ignore him.

Liam roars.

They charge.

Theo barely dodges a whip, falling to the ground.

The cold heart stone in the pit of my stomach grows heavy, tongue pressing hard to the roof of my mouth as I stand over him, staring down the ghost rider. My will is iron as it palms it’s whip drawing closer.

All the rabbit brained fear, the panic that has sent so many running as the whip cracks and takes them, backs turned, the crushing hopeless I’ve been privy to ever since we’d found that boy, ever since Corey had pulled one of them into our world swells up inside of me.

Theo had once said that my mind acted like a two way street, pulling everything and sending anything, but it didn’t have to be. It was my mind, and I could control it and I wanted them to feel that same panic and fear.

My face twists in concentration, angry and tired and so done with this supernatural bullshit.

It raises it’s hand, ready to send it’s whip flying and I focus, sending all that paralyzing fear like a knife and jamming it right into the empty space where it’s mind should be, the empty pit that was it’s mind. Erased and gone and the perfect mirror.

The whip slips out of it’s hand, body hitting the floor with a dull thunk.

I let a breath I hand’t known I’d been holding out, laughter threatening to spill out in relief but this isn’t over.

Theo shoves me out of the way as another ghost rider strikes and I am left helpless once more, drained and fighting the heaviness creeping into my eyes. It’s stronger than Theo, but he’s clever, wrestling the gun from it and shooting the thing.

Then whipping around to shoot the one that has Liam pinned down, before looking over at me, “you couldn’t have done that to all of them?”

My eyes are wide, still shocked that I’d even managed to control, really control and use what ever abilities I had, “I-I don’t. . .I’m not even sure what I did.”

Liam grins at us both, “and you thought my plan sucked.”

“It still sucks,” I retort as more ghost riders appear.

“Cut off one head,” Liam mutters under his breath, fangs elongating once more, “and two more grow back.” He roars, his fear never lasting long before it transforms into red hot pipping anger, rushing through his veins and blocking all else out.

Theo rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around the beta as he yells, “let’s go,” and dragging Liam into the elevator. “El that means you too,” he snaps, but my feet stay rooted to the ground.

The elevators doors shut and the ghost riders charge once more, Theo growling behind me, “El,” he urges, “run.” He charges them and it’s an eerie sensation to have nothing rise out from them. No anger, no determination, just robotically following command. No that wasn’t right. There was no queen or king giving handing down orders here.

Just a hive mind, following their nature, following their purpose in the natural order. Nothing but vessels for a force older and more powerful than any of us.

With a deep sigh, I steel myself, pushing all other thoughts and sounds out of mind, for what I am about to do. Supplanting the sheriff’s emotions had been difficult because he already had some to start with, and I’d had to change them. Changing will’s-this should be easy.

I close my eyes, hands shaking so hard I have to clench them into fists, nails digging into my skin.

Force them.

My will, my feelings, all mine.

I feel for those cold hard empty spaces, the lack of something sending a nauseating feeling through me, the way a black hole seems to go against everything in nature. Anti-matter.

I can’t remember anything Lydia told me about it. Her words often going above my head as she talked at me, going through her thoughts out loud.

Focus.

I grab ahold of those cold empty spaces, and think of all the love I have for my cousin, my aunt, my friends who’d do anything, even for a boy they didn’t know, for Allison that had carried Ethan out of the club, so dedicated to her new motto. Scott’s warm smile as we’d traced his dorky circles into the ground, Liam and Stiles breaking out into lightsaber fights not ten minutes later as Stiles complained about disney scarping his extended canon.

Corey had stayed on the eyes watching us all, until Mason and I had grabbed his hands and dragged

Lydia painting my nails in my room, carefully splaying the brush until every spot was evenly coated, neither of us feeling the need to talk after a long week at school. They way Kira and Malia would sleepover, Malia claiming all the pillows early on in the night as we all laid in Lydia’s bed, Kira’s foot nudging mine while Malia and Lydia bickered.

Kira’s smile as she forced me along to a school dance, turning her boyfriend down who pouted and complained all week, before laughing as we all danced together, forming our own little spot on the dance floor.

Her fingers braiding my hair as she smiled knowingly after watching me and Theo talk, his lips full of such sweet lies and-

and the way he’d believed me about everything. The only person who’d believed I wasn’t crazy or hearing things. Who wouldn’t give me those pitying or worse, indulgent smiles as I tried to explain what was happening.

Theo who had chosen to stay and fight and saved Liam’s neck twice in the last hour.

Focus.

I imagine all that warm love pouring out of me, amplified as it travels from one ghost rider to another, mirroring and focusing my deep rooted tenderness I had for my friends, who were more of a family, a pack, and send it smashing into the ghost riders.

Theo’s shirt is ripped to shreds under my cheek, his arms propping me up against his chest as I regain consciousness, fog clouding everything. His hand rubs the back of mine as he clasps it against his chest, rising over his heart, beating solidly under my hand, ungloved.

For once, I don’t sense a brick wall of deceptive calm, fake like artificial sweetener. There’s just a wave of relief before he speaks, “Don’t do that to me again,” a mere whisper befitting the empty hall.

I jolt, glancing around wildly, remembering the mass of ghost riders. He pulls me closer against him, “Don’t you dare do that to me again.”

Confused, I ask, “do what,” racking my brain together to piece together what happened and how I had ended up here. Not that I minded being held by Theo. Sometimes you need a monster of your own to keep all the others at bay.

His eyes widen, the deep green of his eyes staring into mine, for once, he’s at a loss for words.

Theo looks away, swallowing thickly, his hold on me tight even as I sit up, bones aching. “You took them all out El,” his hand stilling over mine, “the whole hospital.”

I panic, “like-killed them?”

He shrugs, “they just dissolved into the green dust like their victims do.” Theo meets my searching gaze once more, his lips so close to mine I can feel his warm breath tickling my skin. “I knew you could.”

“Well,” I admit, “I just listened to your advice.”

He laughs humorlessly, smiling crookedly, “didn’t anyone ever tell you not to listen to a word I say.”

“You never hurt me.”

“That’s not true,” he says quietly, as we both think of Lydia and how angry I’d been when my aunt had placed her in that place. How scared I was that she would do the same to me.

“You know what I mean,” I say softly, hoping I’m not reading this all wrong, “you didn’t use me.”

“I didn’t need to,” he says, bringing a hand up to my cheek, caressing my skin soft tenderly it sends warm tingles throughout my body. “You were a non factor.”

My eyes narrow, “you could have lied and said Mariella if I’d used you all my plans would have fallen apart because you’re too powerful.”

He laughs quietly, shoulders shaking as he looks down at my, hand stilling on my chin, tilting my head closer to his so that out foreheads are resting against each other.

A longing runs from the base of my throat, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but I can’t summon the courage to do it. The last thing I want is to scare Theo away.

“Is that what you want from me,” he wonders softly, “lies? Because I can tell you any lie you want to hear if that’s what you want.”

“No,” I respond, studying the dirt on his jaw, the mole on his cheek that I’d thought of kissing before everything had gone to hell like it inevitably does in this town. “I just want you to be you.”

“Even if I’m a horrible person that’s done awful things,” he says, barely audible.

“I don’t think you’re a horrible person,” I confess, “and maybe thats a mistake, but I don’t think anyone is ever bad or good, except maybe for Scott. I think people do bad things, just like hey do good things, but that doesn’t make them good or bad.” My words are clumsy and I blush feeling stupid.

Theo smiles, his hand dragging me forward catching my lips with his, kissing so hard, like I’ll disappear if he lets go for even a second. My first kiss and my heart can’t stop racing, leaning into him, kissing him back eagerly.

My hands grip his ripped shirt, unafraid of anything I might sense, lost in Theo, in the feeling of his lips against mine, lighting my skin on fire with desire.

He pulls away first, leaving me breathless, and yearning for more.

“We need to find Liam and the others,” he states, reluctantly, his hands grasping mine.

“You’re probably right,” I utter, standing up and dusting my jeans from the grime of the floor. “Gloves,” I say, hand outstretched towards Theo.

He chuckles, lips pulling up into his signature smirk, “you really think you still need them after that?”

“Theo, I still can’t control it. That was a one off.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t really believe that do you,” but hands over the gloves anyway much to my relief.

I pull the soft leather over my hands and follow behind Theo, walking back out into the hallway. But instead of the linoleum floors, we’re treated with railroad tracks coating the ground, railroad tracks crisscrossing beacon hills leading await some other unknown place, the focal point.

“I bet it’s the high school,” I mutter, “it’s always the high school.”

“Let’s go,” he says grimacing even as he leads the way however reluctantly, not really believing he was really walking towards the very ghost riders we’d barely escaped from.

@josie605

#teen wolf #theo raeken #theo raekan imagine #theo raekan x reader #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken x reader #mine #cody christian

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classywastelandbread-blog · 7 years ago

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Werewolves: Easter

For @ohayokuroneko who keeps giving me wonderful ideas for these idiots XD

I was supposed to do this for Easter but...clearly that didn’t happen. Sorry it’s so late!

“You are spoiling them, Sojiro,” Elder Akihiro said, not even bothering to keep his voice down.

Sojiro hummed noncommittally, watching the mass of too-large paws and tails and young snouts breath and move and writhe. Genji dreamt, his paws wobbling as he tried to chase something and Hanzo snorted and tossed his head in retaliation.

“They are pups,” he said softly, kneeling to place a pair of small boxes beside their shared futon. He pulled out two chocolate rabbit figures and gently tucked them between his sons’ paws. Their noses twitched and he smiled indulgently as they both nuzzled toward their treat eagerly, their tongues lolling out. The melted chocolate would drive the laundry maids mad, but it was worth it.

Behind him, Elder Akihiro snorted. “They will be weak pups with all of this coddling.”

“I do not remember asking for your opinion,” Sojiro said, closing the shoji screen quietly despite the rage boiling beneath his human skin.

“I am only looking out for the betterment of the Clan,” Elder Akihiro pointed out, sounding righteous and whiny like a spoiled child. “I am only looking to uphold the traditions of hundreds of generations and thousands of years! Why celebrate some gaijin holiday and spoil them with treats and candies?”

Sojiro thought of Yuki and her gentle smile as she played with the boys as pups and as children. He thought of hundreds of pictures taken by her as the sickness wasted her away, of hundreds of holidays that none of them would normally partake in but celebrated with her because she wanted to.

“Because they are my sons,” Sojiro said with quiet finality, staring down Elder Akihiro until he submitted, looking away and tilting his head to bare his throat. “And I love them.”

McCree watched Hanzo out of the corner of his eyes, worried.

The town and park had been decorated for Easter with bright cardboard cutouts of rabbits and dyed eggs with handwritten signs advertising a community Easter egg hunt in the park and the surrounding areas. Granny and Gumma and Gran had knitted Hanners a yarn cap with large, floppy white rabbit ears that tied beneath his chin and told them both that they were welcome to join them at the potluck lunch even though they knew that they had never seen Hanners twice in one week – and why doesn’t Jesse invite that lovely boyfriend of his as well, what was his name, Hanzo?

(They all ignored that no one in town has ever seen Hanzo and Hanners together and that it was rare even to see Hanners more than once a month. Like clockwork Joel Morricone visited town and the park once a week with Hanzo or Hanners; never both.)

“What’s wrong?” McCree asked quietly, or as quietly as he could in an open-top Jeep. He reached over during a straightaway and brushed at the thick russet ruff around Hanzo’s neck.

Huffing, Hanzo gently turned and pressed his cold, wet nose against McCree’s hand so that it rested over his short snout. It was as close to holding hands as they really got when Hanzo was in his wolf skin.

As they approached a fork in the road, McCree brought the Jeep to a bumpy stop. “Do you still want to go on a picnic?” he asked gently, turning to look at Hanzo now that they had stopped.

Hanzo whined and McCree frowned, unsure that he had ever heard Hanzo make such a noise in his wolf skin. He snorted, tossed his head and pointed with his paw to the road to their right. “WOOuuNOOuu,” he mumbled.

Smiling softly, Jesse scratched behind the ear closest to him and Hanzo grumbled. “No pressure, you know,” he said. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we don’t have to.” Twisting, Hanzo bared a fang at him. “I know,” Jesse assured him with a laugh, moving his hand up to rub between Hanzo’s ears. “And I trust you, I just wanted to be sure.”

Hanzo huffed and pressed his cold nose to McCree’s elbow. Laughing again, he shifted the Jeep into drive and drove down the road to their right. He continued to mutter to himself and stare pensively at the trees they passed.

At their favorite picnic spot Hanzo jumped out, tail unusually still as he ran a circuit around the clearing. Shifting the ancient vehicle into park, McCree climbed out and began unpacking the things they needed for their picnic. “You wanna change back, darlin’?” McCree asked as he laid out the blanket. “I got a change of clothes for you.”

“It’s not so cold to need it,” Hanzo said as he came into McCree’s view, naked save for the thick leather collar and short leash he wore into town as Hanners. It hung loosely around his neck now and he carefully pulled it over his head and set it aside.

McCree smiled and leaned in for a kiss which Hanzo allowed. “Then for my sake,” he teased, hoping to draw a smile but failing. “Or I may get the wrong idea.”

His boyfriend hummed distractedly, seemingly staring out at the view of the nearby mountains.

Sighing, Jesse reached down for one of Hanzo’s hands and tangled their fingers together; for now, their picnic could wait. “Darlin’?” he asked. “Sweetling? Honeysuckle?” Hanzo glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not you,” Hanzo said after a long pause. “I am…merely caught up in my thoughts.”

McCree smiled. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hanzo glanced at him and looked away. “It’s just…I hadn’t realized that it was Easter,” he said with the hesitancy he only showed when talking about his family. He let go of McCree’s hand and folded himself into seiza, adjusting himself with a grimace.

“Was it special?” McCree asked cautiously, digging into their bags for their food. He could never tell with Hanzo but then he couldn’t exactly blame him; the subject of his family was littered with emotional minefields.

For a long moment Hanzo seemed to be gathering himself so McCree made a burger, piling it with avocado, lettuce, tomato, and bacon then slathering it with garlic-chili sauce and balsamic syrup. Since Hanzo still hadn’t moved, he began making another burger for him.

“When Genji was…before he was born, the doctors realized that our mother was sick,” Hanzo said at last, speaking to the blanket in front of his knees. “Very sick. If she took the medicine to make her better, she would have killed Genji so she didn’t and it got worse.”

Jesse paused and put down the fork in his prosthetic hand to gently touch Hanzo’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“She lived longer than the doctors thought she would,” Hanzo said, turning his hand and wrist so that he could tangle his fingers with Jesse’s. Half a year ago he wouldn’t have done so and it made something in McCree’s throat flutter. “But we still didn’t have very long with her. She died when Genji was five.” He paused again. “To make up for it…she wanted us to have a lifetime of happy memories so we celebrated everything.”

“Even Easter,” McCree murmured when Hanzo paused yet again.

“Even Easter,” Hanzo agreed. “It was her favorite. She always used to find us chocolates and dress us up.” McCree bit back his knee-jerk joke that chocolate was unhealthy for dogs and instead squeezed Hanzo’s hand soothingly. “When she died…our father continued the tradition as a kind of anonymous gift. Like the Easter bunny had brought us chocolates from our mother.”

McCree flinched. “Oh.”

“When father grew ill, I missed that first Easter and…Genji was upset.” Hanzo hung his head. “I realized my mistake and…every year after that I tried to be there for Genji, to get chocolate to him but…”

Suddenly struck with realization, Jesse squeezed Hanzo’s hand. “The magic had died.” Hanzo nodded miserably, still not looking up. Sighing, McCree pulled Hanzo into his lap and was only a little surprised when the other man resisted only long enough to slip into his wolf skin. He moved their plates out of the way and lay down on his side with his werewolf boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his neck.

They stayed like that for some time and Hanzo didn’t shed his wolf skin until the next morning.

The rapid approach of the next full moon always made the wolves antsy and irritable though with his new understanding, Jesse knew why the brothers fought and nipped at each other a lot more.

Two days after their picnic, McCree found Hanzo sparring with the training bots in one of the practice range. He was taller than McCree now, even with the odd sloped hunch his shoulders took as the pull of the moon took hold of his body. It had taken some time to get used to the grotesque way his body contorted as the magic in his blood took over but now it didn’t bother him as much as it used to.

A round ear twitched toward him and Hanzo turned his head, his face lighting up in a way that it didn’t in his human skin. “Hey there,” Jesse said, unable to help the wide smile that split his face. He buried his fingers into the thick ruff growing in around Hanzo’s jaw. “Y’ got a sec, darlin’?”

Hanzo snorted indulgently. “Yush,” he said, his snout just too long to speak clearly with.

Half a year ago, or even a full year ago when Hanzo had first been assigned to the team with Jesse, it had been rare to catch Hanzo as he was now, large and hirsute and half-shifted between wolf and man. Even then, no one had known of Hanzo’s lycanthropy and McCree had only assumed it was a quirk of Genji’s and hadn’t instead been hereditary, a trait bred into the Shimada line as much as their connections to their spirit dragons.

Hanzo tilted his head obligingly, his brown eyes – lighter now during his shift – slitting in pleasure as Jesse scratched behind one of his round ears. “Let’s go in to town,” Jesse said in a rush and Hanzo tugged his head back, blinking down at him. “Just…let’s go in to town. Are you up to a full shift?”

“WHHyyyyyy?” Hanzo asked, the sound almost a whine in his throat as he tried to contort his half-shifted lips to speak.

Jesse shook his head and Hanzo huffed, wrinkling his muzzle in a grimace. “It’s a surprise. Please?”

Sighing, Hanzo looked away. “Ok,” he said and a moment later he was fully in his wolf skin.

“I didn’t mean now!” Jesse said with a laugh but still helped Hanzo to scramble out of the clothes that still tried to cling to his body. “Well, I did mean now,” he amended when Hanzo looked up at him with a bright golden eye. “But I just thought you’d at least undress before shifting!”

Hanzo barked a laugh and wagged his tail once it was free. As a wolf it was as if his human cares faded away and Jesse smiled. Unable to help himself, Jesse dropped Hanzo’s clothes and wrapped his arms around the wolf’s neck. With a gleeful howl, Hanzo wrestled with him for a bit, careful of fang and claw and prosthetic limb. When he prevailed simply by virtue of pouncing on Jesse and lying there, he took his reward by covering McCree’s face with canine kisses.

“Gross!” Jesse protested even as he laughed, trying to wiggle his hands free so he could shift Hanzo’s face away. “Tuna breath!”

With an indignant yowl, Hanzo pulled his head back, pressing both of his large forepaws in the middle of Jesse’s chest as if to say, take that back!

Jesse wiggled his hands free with a triumphant yell and held Hanzo’s jaw like a lion tamer. “Ha!” he teased back. “I got you!”

Twisting his head slightly, Hanzo eyed him…and then let a glob of spit drop from his open jaws right on Jesse’s neck. Yelping, McCree flailed and let go of Hanzo’s jaw, trying to wipe away the thick saliva dripping down the sides of his neck.

“Gross!” Jesse complained and stared up at his boyfriend who, even in his wolf skin, looked unbearably smug. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up wiseass,” he said thought it was fond. Hanzo wiggled off of him and let him get up; rolling quickly, McCree smashed Hanzo’s face between his hands and kissed his wet nose, making him sneeze. “Gotcha!”

Grumbling, Hanzo shook his head and picked up his discarded clothes in his mouth. Jesse was sure that if anyone else save him or Zenyatta were to look at him, they would assume he was angry and frustrated but he could see the gleeful cant to his ears and the happy hold of his tail.

“Ugh,” Jesse complained as he pushed himself to his feet. “I gotta change first. Then should I meet you in the garage?”

Hanzo huffed and wagged his tail, nudging his head into McCree’s leg. He fell into step beside the gunslinger. They saw Genji in the hallway, likewise half-shifted and the two engaged in a tense showdown until McCree gently nudged Hanzo’s shoulder and guided him forward and away.

Genji growled something after them that his half-formed muzzle obstructed; Hanzo flinched and McCree kept himself firmly between them.

It still took a toll on Hanzo’s mood and by the time they made it back to their room, his tail was tucked between his legs and his head was drooping.

“Come on,” McCree said, trying to get him excited again. Hanzo sighed and climbed on their bed, flopping down and flipping his tail to cover his face. He changed quickly, dipping into the bathroom to wash the leftover spit from his face from Hanzo’s enthusiastic award. “Come on,” he tried again, cautiously putting his metal hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

Despite a human intelligence lurking behind Hanzo’s eyes, he could still react as a wild animal. And Hanzo was jumpy enough as a human – now he just had bone-crushing jaws lined with fangs to back it up.

When no reaction was forthcoming, Hanzo holding very deliberately still, McCree sighed and sat down on the bed next to him, burying his face and the fingers of both hands into Hanzo’s thick coat. “I know,” he murmured. “But Han…trust me. Come with me into town.”

“WOOoooh,” Hanzo mumbled back. He snorted.

Jesse dug his fingers into Hanzo’s thick fur, scratching behind his ears. When that didn’t work, he moved his hands down Hanzo’s spine to that spot he liked just in front of his hips. Like magic his hips wiggled and his bag paws thumped and he slowly uncurled from the miserable curl he had twisted himself into. Before he could curl up again, McCree wiggled to straddle him, pressing a sweet kiss to Hanzo’s nose.

“Come on,” he wheedled. “Trust me? It’ll be worth it.”

Turning his head away, Hanzo sighed and gently used a big paw – the size of most plates – to ease Jesse off of him. He sighed again and rolled to his feet, his ears held flat and miserable. With another sigh he walked over to the door and sat, his head and tail still drooping.

Jesse pushed himself to his feet and walked over, tipping Hanzo’s head comfortingly into his stomach (even drooping and slumped, Hanzo’s shoulders came up to Jesse’s waist) as he opened the door. “Trust me?” he murmured and Hanzo nodded his big head.

They made their way unmolested to the vehicle bays and Hanzo scrambled into Jesse’s Jeep while he opened the doors. “Chilly,” McCree commented, his breath misting the air in front of him. “You okay Han, or do you want the booties?”

The booties had been a contribution by Dr. Zhou Mei-Ling, who had worked with dogs a few times during her stay in Antarctica. It took some doing to make booties large enough for Genji and Hanzo’s enormous paws, and despite their discomfort in wearing them, they appreciated the gesture.

Hanzo snorted, shooting Jesse a very unimpressed glare. “Yeah,” Jesse said with a laugh. “I suppose it’s not so terrible out. I’ll bring some just in case but I doubt you’d be doing anything too crazy.”

Shivering, Jesse found one of his outdoor jackets – the one with a vague Wildlife Rescue label that had been stolen from an actual wildlife refuge – and slipped it and a pair of thick gloves on. Hanzo huffed again as he climbed into the Jeep as if to say, you look ridiculous.

Winking, Jesse blew him a kiss and started the car.

Hanzo’s mood perked up a bit and he halfheartedly snapped at the big puffs of snow as they drove, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his breath misting the air before being whisked away by the wind. Smiling, McCree tucked his face further into his serape and drove. They paused outside the town to slip Hanzo’s thick leather collar and leash around his neck, and then continued on.

“Hi Miss Martha,” Jesse said as he got out. The woman waved, her hands held tightly to her sides as she propped open the door with her body. He whistled. “C’mon, Hanners.”

Gripping the end of his short leash in his mouth, Hanzo hopped out of the Jeep and trotted over to Jesse. It was a formality at this point as even the police officers in this tiny little town knew Hanners and knew that he was exceptionally well-behaved. They still kept up pretenses for the most part though, and Jesse patted Hanzo’s head before taking the leash.

“So cold,” Miss Martha complained, propping the door open for the two of them to enter. “Hopefully the snow will clear up before Easter.”

Hanzo stopped at the doorway and looked up in surprise when McCree tugged – gently – at his leash. “C’mon,” Jesse coaxed. “I know you’re used to waiting outside, sweet, but we got a surprise for you.”

“Hello, Hanners,” Miss Martha said warmly, holding out her hands to him and he pressed his chin into them so she could scratch his thick ruff and ears. “Oh, you’re so cold!” Hanzo snorted and she laughed. “Come in, come in!”

She led them through the other entry and into the shop itself where she had a towel for them to wipe the slush from their boots and paws. Miss Martha rubbed her bare arms and zipped over to the little heater behind her desk.

“Don’t worry, Miss Martha,” McCree said cheerfully. “The weather says it’s supposed to be clearing up tomorrow or at the latest, the day after.”

Miss Martha sighed regretfully. “Maybe for you up there,” she said wistfully, looking out the window. “The weatherman says that we’re in for another day or two of snow and the cold will linger on past Easter.”

Kneeling to help Hanzo dry his paws off, McCree shared a secret smile with his lupine boyfriend. Really they got their weather information from Mei, who was more reliable than the run-of-the-mill meteorologists in most areas. “Nah, the whole area,” McCree said as he got to his feet. “It’ll warm up enough to melt the snow, you mark my words.”

Clearly not believing him, Miss Martha stood and moved to a small glass display case on the opposite end of the counter from her heater. The old refrigeration units hummed and rattled (Hanzo and McCree traded glances and each made mental notes to mention it to Mei – the ladies loved Miss Martha’s candies and a broken refrigerated case would be bad for their chocolate and candy cravings) as Miss Martha dug around behind it.

“This dang thing,” she muttered. “I swear it’s on its last legs but can you believe how expensive new ones are?” She huffed as she pulled out a pitcher of some viscous liquid. “Joel, go and turn that sign to ‘closed’, dear.”

Unclipping Hanzo’s leash – which clearly confused him – McCree crossed the small candy store in a few quick strides and obeyed. Still, Hanzo sat where he had been left, very suddenly unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He shifted when McCree began closing the blinds as well.

“That’s a bit much,” Miss Martha murmured as she began pouring the pitcher out. Some went into two glasses and more went into a low saucer. “I know it must seem incredibly undignified to drink like this, but I thought I’d make you some iced hot chocolate as well, Hanners.” She placed the saucer on the ground and smiled. “I gotta say, when Joel here came to me with a new project I was somewhat excited but I have to admit…I’d never done work quite like this before.”

Hanzo eyed the saucer and then looked up at Miss Martha who was looking at him. Right at him; had been talking to him. He glanced at McCree who patted Hanzo’s head as he passed and took one of the glasses that Miss Martha offered him.

“I told her about the Easter candies,” he told Hanzo who stared back incredulously. He took a sip from the cup and groaned. “Okay Miss Martha,” he said seriously. “I need about fifty gallons of this stat.”

Miss Martha laughed. “I don’t know about fifty gallons, but I did make up a large batch for you to take back to the girls.” She looked down at Hanzo. “I don’t get to do much chocolate work here but big holidays like Easter and Christmas always warrant it.”

Turning, Hanzo frowned at McCree who shot him an unrepentant finger gun. “I thought, why should we settle for less when you can make it fancy?” he asked a little bashfully. “And by ‘we’ I mean you,” he added quickly. “It’s your gift, after all…I’m just the translator and driver.”

Jesse yelped and Miss Martha laughed when Hanzo leaped into his arms and licked his face excitedly.

Hanzo guarded the small box jealousy on the way back and only Jesse’s reminder that his body heat would probably melt it kept him from curling up around it. But that didn’t stop the annoyed glances he kept shooting McCree.

“She already knew,” Jesse said when they were well away from the town. The snow was beginning to pick up, drifting in fat flurries across their way and Jesse had had to brush the snow out of the Jeep before they drove off, muttering about how he needed to put the top up next time. “Miss Martha. She wasn’t surprised when I explained just what you were.”

Grumbling, Hanzo huffed, his ears flat.

“I know,” Jesse said as if he had spoken. “It ain’t my place to say, but I wanted this to be special you for and Genji, you know? And it was too soon…I wanted this to be about you, not me. I wanted you to be able to get this yourself with minimal interference from me.”

They fell into comfortable silence until Jesse parked back in the vehicle bay and closed the doors. Hanzo leaned over and licked Jesse’s cheek. “Yeah,” Jesse breathed with a shaky smile. “Love you too.”

As Easter drew near, they recruited the help of the girls (whose silence was bought by Miss Martha’s frozen hot chocolate) to wrap the box of chocolate in colored cellophane with a neat bow. In the end it was Satya who came up with the idea after they had all sat, discussed, and argued about how to wrap it so that it was neat but easy for Genji to open without hands or opposable thumbs.

The full moon approached and Hanzo hid in his room with Jesse, highly unusual for him as he got antsy during the lunar event, but Jesse knew it was from nerves. They sat at the window and watched the lazy clouds drift across the surface of the moon as Genji howled somewhere beneath them.

Moon-drunk, Genji slept later the next morning and Zenyatta let Hanzo into their shared room with a slight bow.

Jesse and Zenyatta waited outside, the former wringing his hands nervously. “It’s good of you to do this,” Zenyatta told him softly. “Perhaps one day you should tell me how you did it.”

“Miss Martha’d love you,” Jesse said wistfully. “They’re doing an Easter egg hunt in town, I think. Han and I are gonna go.” Zenyatta hummed as Hanzo nudged the door open and left. “All done?” he asked and Hanzo huffed quietly. “Let’s get some grub then we can head down to town. The kids are gonna be tickled pink!”

An hour later as Jesse was zipping up his jacket and opening the doors in the vehicle bay, he heard Hanzo yell (because even in his wolf skin he still yelled rather than barked and it was hilarious). Spinning in anticipation of a threat, Jesse instead found Hanzo and Genji wrestling on the cement of the garage. Zenyatta, dressed more as a civilian rather than a Shambali monk, waved as he approached.

“Mind if we join you?” he asked. He carried a pair of brightly-woven Easter baskets. “Genji thought it’d be nice to go looking for Easter eggs.”

Jesse laughed and clapped Zenyatta on the shoulder. “The more the merrier,” he said. “And I’m sure Miss Martha would be thrilled to have more visitors to the shop.” He whistled and both lycanthropes lifted their heads and ears to look at him. “Come on, you two - we’re gonna be late!”

Both wolves, one russet and gray and the other nearly pure white, scrambled excitedly over each other and their own paws to jump into the Jeep.

#ohayokuroneko #werewolf hanzo shimada #werewolf genji shimada #werewolf shimada clan #Hanzo and Jesse go into town a lot #Hanzo is usually in his wolf skin #the kids love him #easter shenanigans #tumblr keeps ruining things for me #long fic #DC writes

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1989dreamer · 7 years ago

Text

Raw? No.

This is for @imyoursourwolf

Happy Birthday! I hope you like it.

Takes place in a what-if after Season 4 canon ends.

Title is taken from Stiles and Scott’s discussion of eating rabbits in Season 1

Everything is bright.

Derek stumbles as he trots out into the light. He’s been sleeping for too long, he thinks. He shakes his head, sniffs the air, and sneezes.

Standing upwind from his den, and probably the reason Derek is no longer snuggled deep in his burrow, Stiles whistles again.

“Here, boy,” he calls, winking at Derek.

Derek growls at him and turns around to head back into his den. Stiles can go away. He won’t get Derek to come home just yet.

It’s more comfortable living as a wolf now. He feels more in touch with his family’s land. It has nothing to do with the fact that things have gone sideways since the battle in Mexico with Kate and her berserkers. Scott is posturing , trying to reaffirm his status as an alpha after very nearly being an undead pawn for eternity. That means shunning all reminders of bad things in his life, one of which is Derek. At least, that’s the excuse Scott gave Derek when he came to turn him out of his loft and run him out of town.

Derek isn’t hiding out here in the preserve, but he certainly isn’t going to make it easier for anyone to find him. In fact, he isn’t sure how Stiles, human Stiles, found him.

“Oh, come on,” Stiles grumbles, crawling up the steep hill on hands and feet, clutching at roots and sending bits of grass and leaves tumbling down. Derek sighs, letting his head droop.

He should have known that Stiles wouldn’t let him go.

Stiles is the only one still looking after him.

Derek sighs again and turns around, padding down to where Stiles is trying to climb the hill. He nudges him with his snout, poking and huffing and sneaking a lick or three in while Stiles fights his way upright.

“Fine!” Stiles shouts suddenly. “I give up!” He sits on his butt and starts sliding down the hill. Derek watches him, head cocked. It looks like fun, honestly.

He whuffs softly, plopping onto his hindquarters and shoving off with his paws.

Stiles stands up at the bottom of the incline, dusting himself off when Derek barrels into him and sends him sprawling.

Derek licks Stiles’ face and jumps away quickly before he can retaliate.

Surprisingly, worryingly, Stiles remains still for a few minutes. Derek nuzzles him, sniffing and inhaling as deep as he can. Stiles smells a little hurt, scrapes and bumps. Nothing major. So why isn’t he moving?

Derek sits down with a thump next to Stiles’ head and lies down so he can stare at him. Stiles opens one eye and sighs at him.

“Are you done?”

Derek shrugs as best he can with canine shoulders.

Stiles sits up, picking at his palm, which, Derek can see, is abraded enough that it looks sore. Derek shuffles closer, leaning his nose against Stiles’ wrist, pulling the pain easily and quickly. Stiles still yelps and jerks away.

“Asshole,” he says fondly, inspecting his palm. “Are you done hiding away and moping like the overgrown puppy you resemble?”

Derek huffs, looks away. Scott doesn’t want him in Beacon Hills. And since Scott is the alpha, Derek will have to leave.

He thought they’d been getting on, but apparently being kidnapped by Kate Argent was somehow Derek’s fault, and now they were back where they started and Scott hated him again.

He tries to convey this to Stiles with his eyes and his ears, but Stiles lacks the capability of understanding his facial expressions and just taps at Derek’s brow with an amused smirk on his face.

“You totally still have your eyebrows,” he says. “Right now, they’re trying to tell me something. But, dude, all I’m hearing is the glaring silence. If you want me to understand, you’ll have to turn back into a human.”

Derek glances around. He doesn’t know where he left his clothes. It’s been a few weeks at least. They won’t smell like him now so he can’t go searching for them. He doesn’t really want to shift back where anyone will be able to see his junk and ogle him. He doesn’t think Stiles would do it since he seemed respectful of Derek’s personal bubble after the Danny-incident.

It’s worth the risk, he decides, if only to talk to Stiles with his vocal chords again.

He doesn’t count on two things. One, Stiles is completely flabbergasted when he shifts back to his human form, stuttering, blinking, and looking everywhere but at Derek. And two, Derek hasn’t spoken in at least three weeks. His vocal chords don’t want to cooperate so his “Hello” ends up being indecipherable.

Stiles seems to find his voice at the same time that Derek does, and they both start to say something over each other.

Stiles pauses. Derek pauses too.

Stiles smiles shyly. “You first,” he offers.

“I need to leave town,” Derek says, and tries not to feel elation at the way Stiles’ face falls.

“Oh,” he says. “I was just going to say that it’s good to see you. Not that I haven’t been seeing you in your wolf-form, but it’s nice to actually see your face and talk to you.”

“How did you find me?” Derek asks. Stiles flushes, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Uh, yeah, about that.” He coughs. “I had my dad keep an eye on the preserve. You know, just in case we ever had an actual mountain lion to worry about. He mentioned that he’d seen a black wolf hanging around this hill, and I put it together that it was you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you come looking for me?”

Stiles stares at the ground, picking at his hand again. Derek reaches out and grips his wrist to draw his pain again. Stiles flinches at his touch, and Derek pulls back.

“I missed you,” Stiles mumbles. “One day you were laughing and hanging out with us, and the next you took off into the woods never to be seen again.”

“You missed me?” Derek is incredulous. No one missed him. He could fall off the face of the earth and no one would be any wiser. Except Stiles, a tiny voice pipes up. Who came back for him in the pool with the kanima? Stiles. Who galvanized the troops to head down to Mexico the first time to rescue Derek? Stiles. Who traipsed into the woods on the word of his father and found where Derek was hiding? Stiles.

Stiles missed him.

“Why do you have to leave town?” Stiles asks.

Derek sighs. Werewolf politics suck. “Posturing,” he says.

“Posturing?” Stiles repeats. “Like, what? Scott thinks you’re going to kill him for his alpha power? Wouldn’t you have already done that if you wanted power again?”

“I wouldn’t kill Scott,” Derek mutters. The only time he actually wanted to kill Scott was…never. He has truly never wanted to kill the kid. Yes, he used to threaten him with death, but how else do you make a teenager see reason? Ignore the alpha threat and die? No thanks. Kiss the daughter of the hunter family and die? Doubly no thanks. Even though Scott never listened, Derek would never have killed him.

“Is Scott going to kill you?”

“No.” At least, Derek doesn’t think so. For an answer to that question, he’d have to visit Scott, and that is not something he is ready to do quite yet.

“Then what’s this posturing bullshit?”

“Scott’s reasserting himself as the alpha. He has let me know that there is no place for me here. So, I have to leave town.”

“Bullshit,” Stiles says.

“What?” Derek demands, irritable. “What’s bullshit about that?”

“Scott doesn’t want you to leave. He’s been talking about asking you to join officially.”

“No,” Derek says. “I want no part in Scott’s pack. He is a good wolf, he’ll be a good man, but I can’t forgive him for what he’s done to me.”

Stiles purses his lips for a long moment before nodding. “That’s fair. So, do you still have to leave town?”

“That’s something I’d have to ask Scott. If he asks me to prostrate to him, then I’m leaving immediately.”

“Again, fair,” Stiles says. “How about we go ask him? And then, maybe you can come to my house for a decent meal. I’m sure you haven’t really been eating anything good out here.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Rabbits and squirrels go down nice,” Derek says. Stiles stares at him, and Derek shrugs. He’s not joking. He was living as a wolf. Wolves eat other animals.

“Whatever,” Stiles finally says. “That just proves you need something normal, like a hamburger.”

Derek sighs. “I’m naked, Stiles. I can’t exactly go into town right now.”

“Oh yes you can,” Stiles says, winking mischievously. “Who else gets to be naked and outside? Dogs. What can you turn into? A dog!”

“A wolf,” Derek corrects. Stiles is right though; if Derek shifts back into his full-wolf form, he could quite literally stroll into town and go to the sheriff’s house with Stiles. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

“Really? I thought that’d take more convincing.”

Derek shrugs. “You said you’d give me a hamburger. Let’s go.”

He drops into a crouch, stretching out his limbs quickly and snapping teeth that sharpen from human blunt. He lets his eyes go blue, shaking his head until it snaps into the elongated jaw and snout of his wolf form. Stiles watches appreciatively as he shifts fully and stands up on four limbs.

“That will never get old,” Stiles says. “My Jeep is just ahead. We’ll ride into town and stop at the diner. Hope you like deep fried Twinkies for dessert.”

Derek lopes alongside Stiles, winding around his legs as they move. He couldn’t care less about the food really. He’s just happy that Stiles found him again.

He tips his head back and lets out a happy howl.

~ Fin ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Wolf!Derek #My Story/My Writing #Birthday Gift

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tigerrobot · 6 years ago

Text

Best days of our lives?

We were born only a day apart. Our mothers were at the same hospital at the same time. She was, apparently, a difficult labour while I was out in just over 6 hours. We first met at a playground when we were 2 and have been nearly inseparable since.

Amelia. My best friend. My sister. My backup, my bodyguard, my therapist, my confidant. Without her, I couldn't do what I do.

When I started down this path I tried to go it alone believing, like so many others, that letting someone in put them at risk. And, like those solitary heroes, I learned the hard way that we all need help.

The funny part was, I didn't need her to protect me from the monsters of the night. Those I could deal with on my own, magic did most of the work for me. Nah, sometimes the real monsters were other people.

"Hey, freak!" The boys laughed and ran down the hall, jostling with each other and acting like they just came up with the greatest insult to ever be heard. As a 17 year old decked out in tattoos, you became hardened quickly.

"Real mature, jerk-offs." Amelia scoffed at them and shook her head before turning back to me. "Seriously, they think they are clever or something? They could at least make fun of your silly hair." She playfully nudged me and smiled. She was the one who shaved my head for my side-cut.

"Right? Oh, you know, I haven't been asked what biker gang I'm part of recently. They could have used that one even." I rolled my eyes and smirked sideways at Amelia and continued to class.

3rd period came right after lunch. Amelia had chemistry and I was off to art. It was one of my favourite subjects because Mrs. Avery was one of the only teachers in the school who made me feel like I was normal. Of course, she thought my tattoos were just a form of self-expression rather than a weapon and a shield for the sake of humanity, but, hey, it was better than most people gave me. And it helped that I was good at art.

As we got to the intersection that would separate us for the next hour and a half, Amelia grabbed my hand and gave a slight squeeze. "Have fun! See you in P.E.!"

"Yep. Hey, don't go blowing anything up without me. I don't think the school could afford -another- chemistry lab." We both laughed and parted ways.

Last year, I caught a vampire squatting in the school. I'm typically non-violent unless I have to be and this vamp didn't give me that option. A story for another time but a scuffle ensued and the school suddenly had to make an insurance claim for a gas leak that led to the old chem. lab exploding. Oops.

I had been seriously drawing since I was 12. Every tattoo I had, I had drawn for the artists to ink. So I was used to making clean lines, transitioning into less functional art had been easy. In grade 9 we had learned the fundamentals and Mrs. Avery was so impressed with how quickly I picked it up, she insisted I keep taking her class. Apparently it had paid off because she had got in touch with a colleague of hers from a university in New York that wanted to meet me. While university was still another 7 months away, I guess it was important to think about this stuff ahead of time. And New York did sound exciting.

Art class was pretty uneventful. Perspective, use of colour, shading. During the ample down time a defender of the night who was also a teenager had, I would draw as my escape from everything else. And I was a notorious researcher, so most of what we learned in class, I had already been playing with on my own. A couple of the other kids, who considered themselves artfully gifted, always gave me sidelong glances, like they were trying to measure themselves against me. That was something I was never interested in. How well someone else did something had no baring on how well I did it, nor would it make what I was doing any less important to me. It wouldn't have been so bad had any of them taken the time to talk to me. I would have been more than happy to chat about technique with someone else who wasn't Mrs. Avery.

Phys. Ed. was another story though. Since I didn't look like the other girls, the change room was frightening place and I spent as little time there as possible. Amelia did her best to casually shield me and, so long as she was there, most of the other girls left me alone. Amelia was popular, traditionally pretty, and a complete bad-ass if you got on her 'bad' side. Hell, she made me look like a bunny rabbit when she got mad. High school would have been a literal Hell if it wasn't for her.

Unfortunately, she couldn't protect me all the time. Today she had to stay late in chem. class to talk to Mr. Forscyth about her paper. He was a good guy, a good teacher, but Amelia was nearly above his ability to teach. She absorbed S.T.E.M. information the way I absorbed the occult. She had been working on recreating a simple paper-based test to find your blood type and was showing him the research papers she had been following so that he could get a better understanding of what she was doing. THAT was thinking about university.

The other girls saw me walk in and waited a few moments to see if Amelia followed behind. When they didn't a sinister gleam came to their eyes and they descended.

"Hey Penelope! We never get a chance to chat without Amelia around. It's really a shame, you seem like you'd be really fun to hang out with." One of them said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Oh, yeah, all those tattoos. It's really cool how you don't care what you look like. Those torn jeans and that old, beat-up leather jacket create such an air of mystique about you." Another remarked, barely containing her sarcasm.

"You should TOTALLY come to my party this weekend!" A third exclaimed, excitedly turning to her friends.

The fourth member of the group snickered, the first of them to break the act, as she said "Sure, but aren't we all a little old to be getting a clown for the party?" And they all started laughing. But, unlike on TV, they didn't disperse. And I knew they wouldn't. Without Amelia around, they could finally get out all of the hatred that they'd had to hold inside.

They had formed a semi-circle around me, my back basically against a wall. I'd have to physically push past them to get away. I shook my head at their attempts to anger me. It wasn't that I was zen or anything like that. People like this group had always been around, always looking to tear me down for whatever reason. And it wasn't that it didn't effect me. I could act like the stoic hero, act like nothing ever phased me and just roll with the punches, but nobody is that dead inside, not even some of the zombies I've squared off against.

"Oh, look, she's trying to be stoic! It's adorable! Come on, freakshow, just admit you don't belong here, run along home, and stop infecting our change room with your presence." Ah, the leader, standing up and being strong with her posse at her back. My hands balled into fists and I could feel the desire to channel a spell into them. How easy it would be to stop this forever, release a blast of energy into her chest and launch her across the room. Or whisper a word and turn them against each other. But magic wasn't to be used against non-magic folks. Even if some of them were worse than half the monsters I had to deal with.

"Good one. I really loved that bit about me not belonging here. I guess to belong at this school I need to have my parents pay off the teachers?" A rumor had been spread about the lead girl falling a class or two last year but her parents really wanted to take her on a trip to Sweden in the summer, and so taking classes just wouldn't do. A donation was made to the school and that little problem went away. By the way she reacted, either it wasn't just a rumor or she had gotten really sick of hearing it. She reached out and shoved me, causing me to fall back, my shoulder striking the wall behind me.

"You know what? We were wrong, you aren't a clown, you aren't even funny. You are just a waste of skin, but looking at it, it wasn't skin anyone else would have wanted anyway. You should feel blessed that I even bother to acknowledge your existence, goblin." And one of her lackey's grabbed my gym bag. I reached out to contest it but was again pushed against the wall.

"We'll do you a favour. You may be filth, but at least your clothes can be clean." The one who grabbed my bag walked into the showers and turned one on, leaving my bag sitting right under it. They all started cackling but stopped abruptly as Amelia walked in.

She saw them, cornering me, and I saw her eyes going through a quick assessment. My bag missing. I watched as her eyes hardened and he stalked forward.

"April, how convenient I got to run into you. Mrs. Ricter says that if you expect to graduate next semester, it's going to cost a lot more than last summer did at this rate. Teresa, I heard from Tommy that you have until tomorrow to return that dress you stole from the mall or they will be calling the cops, the agreement your parents worked out be damned." She looked at the 3rd girl with a look of pure digust but said nothing. Then her eyes fell on the fourth, the one who had just come out of the showers where she could now see my gym bag sitting on the floor.

I swear, she didn't even breath as she walk toward her. The girl started backing away, ending up in the showers herself. Amelia continued to stalk toward her and, while I couldn't see her face now, I imagined smoke billowing from her nostrils like a big momma dragon. The girl backed into a stall and Amelia reached out. The girl made herself smaller, shirking away from Amelia's hand. Amelia simply turned on the water and walked away.

On her way out she grabbed my bag and came back to me. While she was cornering their friend in the showers, the other 3 had left, barely able to maintain their composure and stop themselves from running from her.

"Come on. I'll tell Mrs. Frank that we have some work for yearbook that you are helping me with and we'll get out of here. You okay?" Amelia looked at me, worry in her eyes. I didn't want her to see it but a pair of tears rolled down my cheeks. More out of happiness that I had a friend like her than at anything those harpies had spat at me but I couldn't deny what they said had hurt.

She did as she said and Mrs. Frank didn't even question it. We walked out to her car, she tossed my wet bag into the trunk, not caring that it might get the carpeting back there soaked, and we headed to her place. Her parents wouldn't be home for another hour or so, and we could just veg out, watch some Steven Universe, eat way too much junk food, and completely ruin our appetites for dinner.

I love my best friend.

#original fiction #female protagonist #pen's tales

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