#frazzled watches old CW shows

[frazzledsoul]

I am now up to Episode 13 of the first season of One Tree Hill and I have some thoughts

I know Dan is evil and everything, but it seems to me he does the majority of the actual parenting despite Deb being all "I am the only parent that matters! Shut up Dan! Who cares if I barely speak to my son? I AM THE REAL AUTHORITY!" I'm not saying his approach is the best but Deb really seems to not do shit whatsoever except complain.

Nathan and Haley are cute but where the fuck are her parents, ever?

Peyton is such a weird character to me. Haley describes her as a "queen bee" but where are the rest of her friends except Brooke? Her dad is a fisherman and leaves her alone for weeks or months at a time....who pays the bills? Who feeds her? I am concerned....none of this makes any sense.

So they pretty much just had Brooke be "the horny one" for the longest time and then they decide to develop her mostly through a) Peyton being roofied b) Peyton and Lucas sneaking behind her back and being dirty filthy cheaters. Oddly enough, I think she's my favorite right now. Definitely more fun to watch than most of the others. Of course, her parents are nowhere around, either.

Keith is obviously an alcoholic, yet people keep enabling him and not saying anything.

So I'm a little sketchy on the backstory here. Lucas was born in the spring and Nathan in the fall: Dan abandoned one baby mama for the other, yet everyone is mad at him for...quitting basketball to get married at 19 and raise a child? I mean, that sounds kind of... responsible, actually? Like, you totally failed one kid, at least try with the other one. There seems to be an undercurrent of argument here that if Dan hadn't done that, Deb would have not had the baby and I guess he wouldn't....have a completely respectable job as a car salesman in his mid thirties?! Yet we've already been told that Dan said he would marry his other baby mama but backed out before the birth....when Deb would have been six months pregnant? It's all very confusing. Point being, these adults don't seem like a bunch of former teen parents who are 35 at most. You aren't a failure if you run a cafe or a car lot or a body shop at that age while spending the last two decades raising a child, that's actually an accomplishment! Lower your expectations, everyone.

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter five: so is it your place or mine?

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Your abusive ex-boyfriend's car being blown up in front of your face does wonders for your inhibitions.

cw: explicit, smut, monsterfucking!!, forked tongue action, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, like one singular pussy spank, things get cut a little short :((, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The diner closes early. Turns out that a car exploding outside, followed by every kind of law enforcement and crisis management team imaginable swarming the premises is kind of bad for business– who knew?

Andy, apparently, somehow survived. You watch from the dining room of the building as his battered and torched body is loaded into the back of an ambulance. You hear something about third degree burns, how it’s going to be a miracle if he pulls through– you can only imagine what it would have been like to be standing so close to that explosion of heat. Hellfire.

You spend the few remaining hours of your shift giving statements, which only mildly cover the truth. “Andy was my ex. He was abusive. For about a year and a half. He liked to come here for coffee. I don’t know anyone who would have tampered with his car. No, I don’t know anything about cars. I have been working all day. He tried to cut my arm. No, he didn’t succeed, I pushed him away. Eddie is the name of my high school sweetheart. We were a little bit crazy about each other, we decided to get each other’s names branded onto our skin. He got his on his chest. No, I don’t think that’s strange for an eighteen year old to do, we were fucking idiots. I don’t know where he is now. Eddie–” 

Munson.

“–Munson. Sure, I can make some coffee.”

Before you leave, you hear a few whispers about a free pie special on Friday, but you just hang up your apron and bounce before anyone can ask your opinion.

You come home to find a dog on your doorstep.

You see it there before you turn off the car and step out to get a closer look. It raises its head when it sees you, almost as if it’s been waiting here for you. Expecting you. 

It’s a big dog– not as delicate as Lacey, as it feels like all things point back towards your grief these days– but it’s beautiful, regardless. It looks like a Rottweiler, with the most beautiful brown and black colors you’ve ever seen. 

“What are you doing here, baby?” You ask quietly when the dog bounds toward you, jumping up excitedly to scratch at your legs. It barks happily, looking so pleased that you’re home, like it’s known you for ages. 

Still reeling from the events of the afternoon, your limbs are jerky and stiff with nerves. You crouch down to inspect its neck, reaching for its leather collar, ducking around its attempts to lick your face. It’s fruitless; the dog is gonna kiss you no matter what, even if it has to climb over your shaky legs to do it. 

It’s comforting, even though you’re a little too frazzled to admit it.

Your heart plummets into your gut when your fingers latch onto the copper dog tag that hangs from the strap around its neck. The same triangular copper piece that you’d buried as an offering in the woods, a week ago.

“What the fuck,” you whisper. “No, that can’t be– what the fuck–”

But it can be. You know it, like you know that Eddie had been talking to you today, even though none of it makes sense. Things stopped making sense when he showed up in that clearing and lit a cigarette with his thumb.

You turn the dog tag over, but there’s no contact information. You get the feeling that this dog will never get lost, because it will always instinctively know how to find its way back to you. 

Lacey’s name, your beautiful Dachshund that was taken from you too soon, has been completely erased and the beveled copper smoothed over. Now, the same chicken scratch that adorns your wrist has also been inscribed here. 

Dante. 

You give the Rottweiler a bemused side eye. “Dante, huh? Whoever named you sounds like a fucking nerd.”

“I heard that.”

You raise your head to find Eddie standing in your doorway, looking as beautiful as ever. He glows around the edges, a suggestion of an aura about him that tells you his body isn’t merely made of flesh and blood, but still, he’s a little more… human. His eyes aren’t glowing like before– rather, they’re as dark as your apartment behind him, and they twinkle in the sunlight. He’s shed his usual leather jacket, his arms bare for you to see his tattoos. Bats and spiders and a skeleton puppeteer, inked across his skin. 

You hadn’t seen them before. They hadn’t been featured in that fucking dream , or you would have absolutely done something about it. Something involving a lot more tongue and less thought. He smiles wide and deadly and gorgeous, and you feel as though he’s completely aware of your line of thought.

“Dante, you were supposed to bring her inside,” Eddie chastises the dog as he trots through your door, “not stand out there giving her kisses. That’s my job. Chrissake.”

You step into the apartment after the dog, letting the door creak shut. The drive home had been brutal, to say the least. Your memories of the afternoon’s events are so whole and so fresh, as if they’re still alive within you. Your mind returns to the images over and over again; the vision of the car going up in flames, the sharp press of Andy’s blade to your skin. 

Everything within you aches. Magic courses through your veins– you feel it, simmering just below the surface like it’s going to bubble out of your skin. You might burst into flames. You might explode.

“If it helps, I can’t say I saw that coming,” Eddie begins, like he’s still hearing your thoughts. You have a good mind to ask him if he’s constantly hearing them, or if he’s just listening right now.He takes your keys gently from your hand and sets them on the counter, looking you over hesitantly. “At least, not until he drove into the parking lot.”

“So, that was you telling me what to do?” You ask, staring at his shoes. You swallow against an uncomfortably dry feeling in your mouth. “You were talking to me?”

“You called.” He chews on his lip, leaning back against the counter to face you. 

You feel yourself nod. So, he felt everything. He heard everything you were thinking, all the fear and rage and anxiety. You didn’t just make up his voice to calm your own mind.

“I can understand why. Fucking guy– I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you, to deal with that for so long. Nothing– no one should make you feel like that. Not while I’m around.”

You lift your eyes. Eddie’s words seem to pound a nail directly into your beating heart; you feel yourself on the cusp of doing something stupid, something you might regret later. You watch his lips as they move, as you tell yourself, No. Don’t do it.

“You did so well, though,” Eddie reassures you after a moment. “You were fucking amazing, baby, I was so proud. Burned the fuck out of him. Look at you, little witch.”

“Was that–” You take a stuttering breath, searching for the words you want to say. “Did I do that? Did I… did I try to kill him? Did I blow up the car?”

“No, I did.” 

You feel like the air has been sucked from your lungs. You give a few short breaths, as though you’re trying to hide from someone and don’t want the sound of your breathing to give you away.

“I did,” Eddie repeats. “I know you told me not to kill anyone unless you asked, and I’ll be completely fucking honest, I figure it would be better to just finish him off. Maybe– maybe I’ll have some fun torturing him for a lifetime, without killing him. There are a lot of ways to make someone suffer. But sweetheart...” He tuts and shakes his head slowly, “He defaced my mark. He hurt you. There was no way I was gonna let him just walk away after that. Not after hurting my girl.”

Tears stick in your throat, but they aren’t for Andy. You tried to curse him once, and you’d certainly try to do it again. Fuck him.

“Eddie.” You look up into his face, and it holds a level of severity and anger that should scare you, but it doesn’t. Tears pool on your waterline and threaten to spill over, urged by a wave of infatuation and gratitude toward him that you can’t seem to put a cap on. Your logical brain is trying to beat your own animal impulses back with a stick, while the rabid beast in your chest bites it and tries to yank it away. It’s frustrating how easily this demon can make you lose your morals.

“Trust me, he’s not going to get off easy,” Eddie continues, without even noticing the mushy look you’re giving him. “Even after he finally kicks it. Even if I make the rest of his fucking life miserable. Hell is eternal, and I have quite a few dogs who haven’t been fed in a while. They’ll be happy to rip apart Andy’s soul for lunch. It’s only fitting, after what he did to yours–”

“Eddie.”  

You take a running start at him. His eyes go wide and then crinkle at the edges with laughter when you slam directly into his chest, clawing at his shirt to drag him down to your height. 

With one quick move you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. 

Eddie grunts, his hands fumbling to catch you before you manage to topple the both of you. He reciprocates with frenzy, all clashing teeth and grabbing hands. His mouth is hot as sin and his tongue tastes like smoke and honey, although you weren’t expecting anything else. Maybe you were expecting it to burn you alive, but it wouldn’t matter to you either way.

He pulls back for breath, and chuckles. “Don’t you wanna wine and dine me first–?”

“Hush.”

Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe you’re just running on adrenaline and you’re not thinking clearly– the wires in your brain are misfiring, placing desire where it shouldn’t be in order to make up for the grief you should be feeling instead. 

Or… should you? Rather, you feel relieved. And you’d be remiss if you didn’t show Eddie just how much you appreciate his effort.

You manage to land two kisses onto his jaw before he dips his head and catches your lips with his. Something tells you that you’re going to be addicted to him by the end of this. Eddie’s hands find your face and hold you still so that he can kiss you deeply, letting his tongue glide softly over yours in a way that sends chills through your body.

“Demanding little minx, aren’t you?” His thumb traces the line of your throat, lingering there when you curl your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You told me to tell you what I want. This is me telling you.” Wavy hair tangles in your grip, and you yank him closer by it. 

You have to quickly reconsider the consequences of your actions, though, when Eddie picks you up and effectively throws you across the counter, toppling a bunch of random clutter onto the floor. 

Eddie’s hand comes up to grab your jaw, holding your head where he wants it as he sucks hard, his teeth grazing your throat in a way that makes you dizzy. You whimper when his lips find a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, sending a shock wave through your body, throwing your legs around his hips to pull him in toward you. Following his lead, letting him bite you until you’re bruised, until the capillaries under your skin burst and spread in the shape of his lips.

“I think you’re an angel,” he whispers, as his hands slip up your skirt and his fingers brush the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He sounds breathless as he kisses your jaw, just below your ear. “My angel.”

There’s relief in Eddie’s kiss that soothes the rabid thing in your chest trying to figure out what direction to go in. His lips glide over yours soft and then hard, the ebb and flow of waves on the shore. 

This is what you wanted. Contact. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your body. You’ve been wanting to get your grubby hands on him ever since that fucking dream, and now that you do, you’re losing your mind. 

His fingers press into the skin of your hips, tracing the waistline of your panties. A damp spot grows on the crotch of them, and on any normal day you would be embarrassed. Now you simply grind against the touch, beyond the point of refusing it. 

You bite his bottom lip and suck on it, causing him to moan against you. In your haste, you miss the shudder that rolls down his spine, the way his eyes roll back in his skull a bit.

“I– mmmkay,” Eddie groans deep within his chest when you palm him over his jeans, feeling out his erection against the denim. Big is all the confirmation your clouded mind gets before Eddie's hands circle your wrists and pin them over your head. His eyebrows shoot up sternly as he talks down his nose at you. “Behave.”

“You don’t want me to behave,” you point out, your breath hitching in your chest when he dips down to press a kiss just beside your mouth. You gasp, “You want me to fuck you. That’s what this is, right? That’s… that’s what I want–”

“Oh, sweetheart.” A fire ignites deep within his eyes. It’s beautiful– so close, you can see the embers burning there, flickering with the heat of his gaze. “Took you long enough.”

“Bullshit. Took me– mm…” A soft noise of gratitude escapes you when his hand dips to stroke over the crotch of your panties, “three days.” 

You can’t help the way you cling to him, all but grinding down onto his hand for relief. He hisses through his teeth when his fingers press into the soaked cloth over your core. 

“Yeah, n’ it was too fuckin’ long. You poor thing, having to wait for me like this. M’so sorry…”

Eddie drops to his knees, kisses your knee once before dragging your panties down your thighs. Your hands are covetous, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and gripping onto his shoulder at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You shiver as he parts your legs, his face so close to your sex that he can smell you, sweet and earthy in the air.

He takes a long, deep inhale that makes your face burn, and he grins up at you. “Mmm, actually… no, I’m not.” 

“Fuck–” you hiccup when he hooks your leg over his shoulder. His breath hits you before his tongue parts the swollen lips of your pussy, and the touch is blindingly sweet. “You’re– hhuh– evil.”

He grunts, and takes to you with gentle licks that make your toes curl. Soft flicks and tender strokes that gradually become firmer, deeper. Warmth seeps into your limbs, spreads through your body like the sweetest poison on earth. 

Your breath catches in your throat when the feeling changes– his tongue seems too fucking long, reaching way too much of you all at once. And then there’s a split, a feeling of two appendages separating and tracing around the bead of your clit, moving individually. 

“Hoooly shit– wait wwwait, hang on– fuck!”  

Your breath is coming in hot, short pants that don’t quite reach your lungs as you lurch against him. You peer down to meet his eyes and they’re fucking smoldering, burnt orange and siena glowing as Eddie’s forked tongue flicks softly around your clit, easing up while you collect yourself.

You squirm against him, rolling your hips urgently toward his mouth even while you try to wrap your head around it. “I didn’t– hnnng– I didn’t know you had– had–” 

“Demon,” Eddie hums. He raises his head to give you a sharp, fanged smile. 

The sight makes you freeze, your eyes going wide. “That’s really, really…”

You trail off as his impossibly long, split tongue glides through your folds and teases at your hole. He fucks you slowly with it, eyeing you for your reaction. 

You moan, “Mmm, that’s… so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes fistfuls of your ass, lifting your hips and kneading soft flesh beneath his fingers. His touch is indulgent and selfish, nails digging into your skin and tongue seeking you out deeply enough that it makes your cheeks burn.

A forked tongue. That’s a new one on you, even if it isn’t quite so surprising. You’d never considered that it might be an exciting prospect until you could feel it. 

Your hands slip back through his hair, a soft moan escaping you. So many points of contact at once wreak havoc on your nerves. You can’t think straight, and it’s becoming something of a problem because you feel way too close to your orgasm already. 

But if you fall apart, what’s the harm? He’ll be here to put you back together. Even if it means he’ll just tear you apart again, he can spend eternity doing it. You think you’d let him.

You’ve never been one for the conventional. You like a little kink, a little sharpness and grittiness to go with your pleasure. And no one has gone down on you quite like this– all in, not submissive but simply servicing, like he’s reaching for a piece of your soul with it. 

So, you’re not surprised when the feeling of his fangs scraping your pussy is what sends you hurtling into your orgasm. It's an instant relief to the roaring heat in your body, but it only sort of quells the flame.

He laps at you slowly until he pulls off, leaving you spent, thrown across your kitchen counter. Eddie chuckles while you continue to twitch through the aftershocks. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? That’s fucked up, baby.”

He sounds so fucking cheeky. You bonk him on the head with your palm while he snickers. “Don’t act so goddamn proud.”

He smacks your pussy once, a sharp crack that makes you yelp. His fingers come back wet, and he licks them while your cunt throbs and stings. Still desperate for him.

Eddie pulls back to stand, and he watches you for a second, sucking on his teeth a bit. He looks contemplative, a little bit disarming once the fangs and forked tongue disappear. 

He bends over you to kiss your forehead, and gives you an apologetic look. “I have to go.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Your cunt aches between your legs, pressing together to stave off the feeling. They just hit Eddie’s hips. “Fuck, Eddie, I don’t think I can– don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he murmurs soothingly. His eyes are dark now as they peer into yours, round and seemingly innocent. “But I gotta. ‘Devil’s work is never finished,’ and all.”

You scrunch up your expression, attempting to glare but only coming off cutely perturbed, from his perspective. “I hate you.”

“Aww.” He sticks his tongue out at you– it’s a normal, human tongue. You want to bite it. “You’re so convincing at it. I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”

“My… dog?” You blink as he pecks your lips and steps away from you, walking toward your bedroom door.

“Dante,” Eddie tells you, looking around the room. The dog in question is nowhere to be found. “Ah… technically he’s my best one. When he behaves. DANTE?”  

There’s a bark from the direction of the bathroom, and a horrifying splash. Eddie motions at it, shrugging emphatically, as if to say what’re you gonna do? “He’s yours now. He’s got orders to take good care of you.”

You stare incredulously after Eddie as he goes to disappear through your bedroom door. Before he does, he spins back around with a finger extended. 

“He likes wet food, by the way.”

[acapellafics]

The day after dawn of the posers

Cw for mentions of kidnapping, Human experimentation, and spousal abuse (if I should tag more please lmk)

Thank God it was Friday night that most of the goths (Firkle, Elias, and Pete), two vamps, and…the ghost of Edgar Allen Poe went to Troubled Acres to rescue Michael from the emo conversion camp, they were all pissed to learn it was just a stupid prank show in the end.

After breaking the news to Henrietta and getting a surprisingly heartfelt apology from Firkle, now that it was Saturday the group of 7 goths had congregated at Henrietta's to smoke and talk about the bullshit they went through.

“I seriously can't believe I fell for that stupid lie” Henrietta huffed, taking a few puffs off her cigarette, she'd trashed every piece of evidence that had to do with her emo phase and was back to wearing all black.

“Don't blame yourself Henni, a lot of people fell for it” Elias offered his attempts at reassurance always optimistic despite being a goth, 

“The good thing is you’re back to yourself again, Firkle is back, and Michael wasn't hurt” he glanced from a now short-haired Firkle over to Michael feeling his mind set off an alarm at the elder goth's posture.

Michael was fairly tense in his spot on the floor, one slightly shaky hand holding his cigarette, and his other hand was wrapped so tightly around his cane that his already pale knuckles nearly glowed white.

“Michael, dude you good?” Elias asked drawing everyone's attention to the oldest goth,

“I know it was just some conformist prank show but you still seem frazzled,” he said sitting next to Michael with a respectful distance.

“You were pretty pale last night and that's saying something for the four of us” Firkle commented, he looked at Michael watching him stub out his barely touched cigarette.

“Not to mention you nearly hurled on the trip home” Pete chimed in,

“You never get carsick” he looked across the pentagram carpet at Michael.

Henrietta looked up hearing that Michael nearly got carsick,

“Mihha?” She sat her cigarette aside in a newly emptied ashtray.

“You poor dear,” Maria said sympathetically watching Lafayette look at Michael with concern,

“Did something happen before they got to you?” She asked.

Michael wanted to curl in on himself and vanish as his six friends turned their attention to him,

“It's stupid, nothing worth worrying over” he tried to wave their concern off gently, never a fan of having the spotlight on himself.

“Mon Ami, something must have happened or been said to you” Lafayette moved to sit by his dark doppelganger so he was now between himself and Elias,

“Michael, you can talk to us,” he assured him.

“Jackdaw's right,” Elias laid a tentative hand on Michael's right knee,

“Nobody here will judge you, especially after what Henni did” he added the second half in a whisper grinning when Michael snorted a weak laugh before yelping when Henrietta's small lilac pillow collided with his head nearly knocking him into Michael. 

Michael brushed his curls from his face as Elias and Lafayette offered words of reassurance, he took a deep breath letting out a sigh on the exhale he knew of the six friends he had that Elias was likely to keep gently pushing.

“I found out that night that…I…faint under heavy stress” he blurted it out like ripping off a bandaid,

“My folks just threw me in the hatchback and drove me right to the building…I must've passed out because one moment we're pulling up to ‘troubled acres’ and then the next thing I know I woke up to the old dude tying me to a chair” he shuddered thinking back on last night.

All six of the other goths were visibly surprised by this, the three that had gone to his rescue last night looked horrified to learn they'd arrived only moments after he regained consciousness.

“Dios mio! You poor thing, I can't blame you for being rattled after an incident like that” Maria cried out hearing that,

“Thank goodness these three got to you when they did” She glanced over her shoulder at Pete as he'd been fussing with her hair.

“Is there anything we can potentially do to help ease how you're feeling?” Elias asked Michael,

“Coffee? A blanket? A listening ear or 14?” He offered watching Michael's mouth twitch into a fleeting smile at the joke.

Michael rubbed Elias on the head with the hand not holding his cane in a vice, he was slightly surprised when the younger teen rubbed his head into the touch which he oddly found comfort in.

“At the risk of sounding like some preppy conformist…can” Michael forced himself to swallow his pride and make a request he'd never normally make,

“Can you or Firkle just lean against me?” He didn't dare specifically ask for a hug so he settled for ‘lean on me’ instead.

Everybody in the room was surprised by that and looked to Firkle who had perked up then gave Elias a very peculiar look, they looked from Firkle to Elias who gave a pensive nod.

Elias’ face softened before he got a determined look and smiled sweetly,

“Here fluffy compression does wonders, just ask Firkle” he took a deep breath before his body seemed to shift into that of a brindle-colored Wolf pup the size of maybe a border collie while still maintaining the boy's signature hair and wearing a striped yellow scarf. He gently laid his warm fluffy chest, front paws, and head on Michael's lap providing the oldest with the warmth and compression one would normally feel when holding their pet,

“I-I don't bite, just try not to pull the fur” the wolf politely requested in Elias’ voice as his black nose nudged Michael's hand encouraging him to release the cane and pet him.

The other 4 goths watched in shock Maria's eyes lit up in adoration at the sight of the wolf puppy that was now halfway in Michael's lap, Firkle on the other hand was grinning at the sight.

Michael looked down at Elias as the pup nudged at his hand again, finally registering the cold snout. He dropped his cane to the carpet and slowly slid his hand into the bridle fur, surprised it was so soft but boy did it help.

“Holy shit, dude” Pete's voice broke the silence as his eyes took in the transformation,

“What are you?” The question flew from his lips before he could stop it.

“Can't be a werewolf it's not a full moon” Lafayette chimed in,

“Rook?” He looked over at the Wolf pup as Michael continued to comb his fingers through the fur.

“My folks and I just call ourselves hybrids” Elias explained before thinking of a better description,

“I know Maria will get this reference, basically my folks and I are like the werewolves in that 2012 movie 'Wolf Children’ like deadass just like them” he offered.

“I can see it” Maria nodded, she watched it often.

“So…is anyone else wondering how Firkle seemed to already know?” Henrietta asked watching the kindergartener sit by Michael and Elias on the floor,

“How come the baby bat got to learn first?” She teased Elias knowing he had a soft spot for the kid.

Elias glanced at Henrietta as he continued acting as an emotional support Wolf for Michael who didn't appear like he'd be releasing him any time soon,

“Well a few months ago I was at Starks Pond visiting that murder of crows I nursed back to health when one of them flew off and eventually returned pulling my hair towards the woods” he explained.

“I followed him into the woods and saw one of the Wolves advancing on Firkle, I recognized the area instantly. He'd wandered too close to where that wolf's den was, so he was defending his pups from a tiny intruder” he told them,

“I got between them still human trying to convince him to let me just take Firkle but he doesn't like humans” his ears drooped.

The other 5 were listening intently while Firkle simply held Elias’ tail similarly to a conformist child holding their blanket, if anyone saw they said nothing.

“You got between a whole-ass wolf and Firkle?” Pete asked looking at Elias,

“And tried reasoning with it?”

“In my defense fight, flight, or freeze kicked in” Elias exclaimed as his ears drooped thinking back to that day,

“But yeah the wolf didn't wanna listen and pounced, pinning me down, with Firkle curled up defensively I chose to fight. I told him to lift his shirt collar and keep his eyes shut, shifted to this form, kicked the wolf off, scruffed Firkle by the shirt, and ran like Hell while the crows distracted the wolf…and then Firkle opened his eyes early and saw me” he wagged his tail so the tip batted Firkle's cheek getting a soft laugh from the boy.

“You're insane Eli,” Henrietta told him fondly,

“I'm so glad you were in the area when you were,” she said softly watching him grab Firkle's belt with his teeth pulling the boy closer without any complaints.

“I would've done that for any of my friends not just the baby bat” Elias smiled his tail wagging until Firkle released it allowing it to happily slap the carpet as he lay there,

“Nobody fucks with my friends but me” he gave a proud little huff before just relaxing.

“Gotta love a friend with built-in scary dog privileges” Lafayette quipped listening to Elias and Maria laugh,

“Glad to know we can count on you Mon Ami” the boy smiled.

“Elias, Sugar if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you tell us sooner?” Maria asked softly, she was surprised he'd kept that to himself so long.

Elias’ ears drooped and his tail slowed,

“Well of my bio parents, my mom was the only hybrid and…due to being kidnapped by the government and experimented on by them she opted not to tell me bio dad” he relayed feeling a tiny hand pet his back.

“When I was born mom had no idea if I'd be like her or not, I turned into a puppy when I was about a month old and my dad flipped…long story short he called us monsters and started to emotionally and physically abuse my mom but never me” he curled up a bit more,

“She left him and brought me here, raised me to embrace the wolf side but be careful with who I shared the info, when she met my step dad she told him about her being a hybrid and learned that he's one too and welp here we are now” he offered a soft shrug.

“Holy shit” Pete whispered surprised someone could see someone with Elias’ biological gift and call them monsters,

“I'm glad she got out of there and that you can embrace this side of you” he reached over to rub the wolf pup’s ear watching his tail start wagging again.

“I'm glad too,” Elias smiled,

“Can't imagine not having all the friends I've made here” he looked at his fellow goths before plopping his head down on his paws.

“How are you feeling Mihha?” He quietly asked looking up at Michael who had been quiet since his transformation, he nudged the elder boy's ribcage with his snout getting his attention.

“Feeling calmer,” Michael said quietly with a faint but grateful smile as he rubbed Elias’ head between the ears,

“You can get up whenever” he shrugged as his hand stilled.

Elias nodded sitting up only to flop on his other side by Firkle,

“Don't think I didn't catch that sigh, I'll stay like this for a bit” he teased as the boy grabbed his sketchbook from nearby and laid against the wolf starting to draw while the others conversed amongst themselves.