specsthesecond · 1 month ago
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Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.
While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,
"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."
The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.
"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"
One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.
"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"
One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.
"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.
"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"
"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"
The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.
"....I prefer minotaurs."
This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.
That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.
You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-
"You causing trouble?"
You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.
"Me? Oh, I would never."
You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.
He huffs in amusement.
"They don't seem to think so."
He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.
You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.
"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"
You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.
You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.
He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,
"Be ready when I get to the car."
You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.
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uravitypng · 14 days ago
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werewolf meguru bachira x (chubby) reader
KINKTOBER: knotting + dacryphilia + marking
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word count: 1.3k words / mdni / 18+ i love writing for bachira <33
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your roommate is really hot. applying to become roommates with someone who you didn't know led to unexpected problems- like falling for him. his cheerful and eccentric personality drew you in, his amber eyes and his black and yellow hair keeping you there. a very attractive man in every sense. a very attractive werewolf.
decades ago werewolves and other monsters would have to hide who they are but the times have changed and society has progressed. one of the reasons why you're glad you're born during this progressive age is now you can go into sex shops and buy sex toys... monster sex toys... werewolf toys.
you didn't go out of your way to buy a monster sex toy, you just wanted a new vibrator, maybe something a little quieter now you have a roommate but there was a whole section on monster toys. huge, thick, ribbed, knots, it was rather daunting to see all of them. your eyes were drawn to a particular dildo though, thick and with a knot, you guess around 9 inches. you read the label below it and it's a werewolf dildo. in the end you end up buying it but you tell yourself that you might not even use it, you're just buying it because it was cheap. it wasn't, you couldn't even afford to buy the vibrator you wanted as well.
when you get home you throw the dildo under the bedside table, sometimes your eyes drift over to it but it's been weeks and you haven't used it.
you make your way into the living room and turn on the television, throwing a blanket over you. you think about asking bachira if he wants to watch a movie with you, you hear the shower run and look for films while you wait to ask him. you don't hear the shower stop and you don't hear the door opening, already focused on your task of choosing a film. "oooh, what are you watching?"
"i haven't deci-" you turn to look at him and he's wearing his towel, and nothing else. it's definitely not the first time he's done this, it's pretty frequent but every time it floors you. it should be illegal for someone to look so good. "bachira put some clothes on!" you squeak and he laughs loudly at your reaction before leaving and coming back a couple minutes later this time with clothes on. you end up watching a film and that night your hand reaches under your bedside table. it was only fair that meguru touched himself to your muffled moans, it seems you forgot that werewolves have supernatural hearing and you're basically putting on a show for him. he can't hear any porn so he wonders what you're thinking about. little does he know it's about him.
it happens nearly everyday now, once you've started it's hard to stop. stripped down and turning your face against your pillow muffling your moans and making your wrist hurt as you repeatedly thrust the dildo into your pussy. however, unaware to you, your noises get louder, as you get closer you whine loudly and bachira can hear squelching noises and he imagines him getting you to make the noises. as you push the knot into you you whine "meguru" and he cums everywhere, all over his chest and pants loudly. he didn't imagine that. you definitely said his name.
immediately he leaves his room and he flings open your door and and you whelp trying to cover yourself with your hands. "bachira wha-" before you can finish what you were going to say he goes over to the bed and grabs your hands, forcing them away from your body.
"don't cover up. it's rude to tease," he grins and your eyes widen. he grips your wrists in his large hands and licks his lips as he drinks up your soft body with his eyes, making you shiver.
"tease? tease, i-i haven't done anything!" you don't know what he's talking about but you're hyperaware that you're naked and exposed with a knotted werewolf dildo currently in you with your werewolf roommate above you completely naked too, and you can feel his hard cock against you which you're trying not to look at it.
"oh, really, so calling my, whining, my name as you fill up your cunt isn't teasing?" he licks a tear that starts to fall down your face, 'you look so cute'.
your eyes widen and you try and wiggle out of his grasp, " 'm sorry! ' didn't mean to! just like you a lot meguru!"
bachira doesn't try to stifle giggles, making you cry more and he ruts against your chubby stomach. "awe why didn't you tell me? we could of been doing this for ages." he teases but you can hear that he's being genuine. you sniffle and look up at him in shock and awe at his 'confession'. "such a silly girl," he grins as he sees another tear and wipes it with his hand. "it's a good thing i like you too," he kisses your wet cheek. "never knew you were such a crybaby though." he never knew he would be so turned on by seeing you cry either.
"i'm not a crybaby." you mumble.
"oh please," bachira rolls his eyes and without any warning pulls the dildo out of you, making you screech, suddenly feeling so empty. when he sees it he grins wide, not only covered in your juices but very clearly knotted. "awe did you buy this because of me?" you turn your head to the side not wanting to look at him, embarrassed. 'cute'
"do you want my cock?" he asks cockily and you head snaps back to look at him. "i promise it's much better then that small piece of plastic you've been using." he grins and ruts against you again. your mind goes blank as he says 'small,' that toy is anything but small, how big is he?
you nod your head, "good girl." in one swoop he thrusts into you, not stopping as you scream and grab hold of his arms and hold him tightly to ground yourself. he laughs at your reaction as he keeps thrusting hard and fast. he wasn't lying when he said your toy was small. his cock feels thicker than your wrist and is longer than average too, you feel like you're feeling ripped apart but still he doesn't slow down, in fact as you cry more he gets even more feral. "you look so pretty crying for me," kissing your cheeks and soft jaw.
bachira grabs hold of your malleable hips and sinks his fingers into you groaning at the sight and the feeling, using them to pull you towards him and off him, aiding in his movements.
he doesn't even need to work hard for you to come. of course he doesn't you're his 'good little mate' meguru actually growls when he thinks that, shocking you in the process. it seems impossible but his thrusts get harder and it almost hurts but the slight pain is pleasurable. "fuck, fuck," he grabs hold of you so tightly he's going to leave bruises and pushes his knot into you and stuffing you full.
you scream, you cry more than double that you have been, your arms flail and your swear you're going to bleed. "sssh, shhhh, it's okay," he strokes your hair and wipes your eyes. you sniffle and he continues comforting.
" 'ts big," you say through tears.
"i know but you can take it. you're so good for me aren't you?" you nod your head and as you nod your head your neck gets exposed causing bachira to start breathing heavy and you worry that something's wrong. you don't have time to ask about it though because he's instincts are telling him to bite, bite, bite! and that's what he does, he turns your head and bites down hard, leaving a mating mark on you, making everyone know you're his. you gasp but the that blood drips down makes you wince, he licks your mark soothing any pain you have. you're his- forever.
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planetdream · 7 months ago
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AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !
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CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader
GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]
WORDS ! 3.3k
SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.
THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk
💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3
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There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.
About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 
Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 
By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 
It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 
When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.
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You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 
You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.
As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 
The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 
The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 
Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 
But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’
“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 
He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 
Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 
Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 
He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 
While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 
Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 
Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 
“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 
“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 
“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   
In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 
You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 
It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 
“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”
His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”
“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”
His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 
Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 
He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 
You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 
Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”
He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”
Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 
He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.
It seems his fun little game has officially started. 
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© PLANETDREAM 2024
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lila-lou · 13 days ago
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✨Cuffed - Part 1/2✨
Summary: Dean reluctantly tags along to a Halloween party, but things take an unexpected turn when he meets you. What starts as playful teasing quickly turns into undeniable chemistry, leaving Dean caught off guard in the best way.
-Halloween-Special-
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Language, TEASING
Word Count: 4492
A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💛
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Dean groaned, leaning back in his seat and glaring at Sam, who was pacing around the motel room. “For the last time, Sammy, this is a stupid idea. A Halloween party? Really? That’s your idea of a good time?”.
Sam stopped and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, Dean, it’s not just about the party. It’s been ages since I’ve done anything remotely normal. Besides, I’m nervous about seeing Lina again”.
Dean shot him a look, his brow furrowed. “Lina? The chick from the coffee shop a few weeks ago?”.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. She invited me to this thing, and I don’t wanna go alone. It’s been forever since I’ve been to something like this, and I don’t wanna screw it up”.
Dean rolled his eyes. “So let me get this straight. You want me to tag along to some stupid party because you’re too nervous to talk to some girl? Dude, you’ve faced down demons and vampires, and you’re freaking out over this?”.
Sam gave him a pleading look. “It’s different, Dean. You know it is. She’s… she’s different”.
Dean groaned again, tossing his hands in the air. “Fine, but I’m not dressing up. I’ll go, I’ll stand there, and I’ll drink their bad punch or whatever. But don’t expect me to pretend like I’m enjoying it”.
Sam smirked, a bit of relief washing over his face. “Deal. Thanks, man. I owe you one”.
Dean shook his head, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “Yeah, you owe me more than one for this”, he muttered, slipping the jacket on.
“It won’t be that bad, Dean. Just try to relax. Lina’s cool, and I’m sure her friends are too”.
Dean shot him a skeptical glance. “Yeah, sure, because that’s what I need. Small talk with a bunch of strangers while you’re off making eyes at Lina. Sounds like a hell of a night”.
“Look, I just… I don’t know, man. It’s been a while since I’ve tried to date. What if I mess this up?”.
Dean’s expression softened, just a little. He sighed, then clapped Sam on the shoulder. “You’re not gonna mess it up. Just be yourself. She invited you for a reason, right? Just don’t overthink it”.
Sam nodded, but Dean could see the nerves were still there. He was rarely this wound up unless it was something serious.
“Come on, let’s hit the road before you start hyperventilating”, Dean said, making his way to the door.
A week later, Halloween finally arrived, and despite all of Sam’s attempts to get Dean into the spirit of things, Dean refused to even consider wearing a costume. As Sam finished getting ready, slipping into his vampire getup, Dean just leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, shaking his head in disbelief.
When Sam walked out of the motel room, fangs in place and a cape trailing behind him, Dean immediately burst out laughing. "You’ve gotta be kidding me, Sam. A vampire? Really? After everything we’ve been through? You want me to take you seriously when you look like that?".
Sam rolled his eyes and adjusted the cape. “Yeah, laugh it up, Dean. It’s Halloween. I’m trying to blend in, unlike some people”.
Dean smirked as he opened the car door. “I don’t need a costume to look good. Besides, you realize the irony, right? A vampire hunter dressing as a vampire. You’re asking for bad luck here”.
Sam slid into the passenger seat, ignoring his brother’s teasing. “It’s just a costume. Relax. And I didn’t exactly have time to come up with anything else, considering how you kept shooting down all my ideas”.
Dean laughed as he started the engine. “Dude, you wanted me to dress up as a werewolf! We hunt werewolves! What were you thinking?”.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Better than not dressing up at all. You’re gonna be the only person there not in costume”.
Dean grinned as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta be the cool one".
Sam shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. The familiar banter between them helped calm his nerves, even if Dean’s sarcasm was relentless. The truth was, Sam was still nervous about seeing Lina again. The party wasn’t just a Halloween get-together; it felt like a real step forward with her, and he didn’t want to mess it up.
As they drove, Dean couldn’t resist making more jokes. “So, when you see Lina tonight, are you gonna sparkle in the moonlight, or should I call you Count Samula?”.
Sam groaned. “Seriously, Dean, let it go”.
But Dean just chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m just saying, you’re giving me a lot of material here. Don’t be surprised if someone at the party mistakes you for the real deal”.
Sam sighed, leaning back in his seat, trying to tune out Dean’s relentless teasing. He knew Dean was only giving him a hard time to ease his anxiety, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
After what felt like an endless barrage of vampire jokes, they finally pulled up to the house where the party was being held. It was decked out with Halloween decorations—fake cobwebs, glowing jack-o'-lanterns, and a skeleton hanging from the porch. The muffled sound of music and laughter spilled out into the yard as they approached the front door.
Dean parked the Impala and glanced over at Sam, who was fidgeting with his costume again. “Alright, you ready for this, Count?”.
Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready”.
Dean gave him a small, genuine smile, one that told Sam his brother had his back, no matter how much he made fun of him. “Go get ‘em, tiger—or, uh, bat. Whatever you are”.
Sam rolled his eyes once more, but couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. "Thanks, man".
They stepped out of the car and made their way toward the party, Sam adjusting his fangs one last time while Dean, in his usual jacket and jeans, stuffed his hands in his pockets. He might not have been dressed up, but he was still scanning the place with a hunter’s eye, watching everything, even in what was supposed to be a laid-back situation.
As they reached the door, Sam hesitated for a second before knocking. Dean caught the look on his face and nudged him. “Relax, Sam. You’ve got this. Just go in, have a good time, and stop overthinking everything”.
Before Sam could reply, the door swung open, revealing Lina, dressed as a classic movie star in a sleek, black dress and gloves. Her eyes lit up when she saw Sam. “Hey, you made it!”, she exclaimed, smiling wide.
Sam’s nervousness melted away as he smiled back at her, stepping inside. Dean followed, keeping his distance, though he made sure to give Sam a small, approving nod. It wasn’t exactly his scene, but for his brother? He could handle a few hours of lame costumes and bad music.
Lina led Sam deeper into the party, and as they mingled with her friends, Dean hung back by the snack table, grabbing a beer and observing the crowd. It was all normal, but Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the night might turn out to be more than just a harmless Halloween party.
But for now, he watched Sam, relieved to see his brother smiling, laughing, and, for once, not worrying about monsters or demons.
That was enough for Dean—for now.
Dean took a sip of his beer, scanning the room lazily when something—or rather someone—caught his eye.
In the kitchen, he spotted you, probably the hottest little police officer he’d ever seen, struggling to reach a stack of red cups on the top shelf. Your short, dark dress was riding up dangerously as you stretched on your tiptoes, clearly trying to avoid asking anyone for help.
Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking to himself. Well, you were also the tiniest police officer he’d ever seen. He watched for a moment longer as you muttered something under your breath—probably cursing quietly at your predicament. Amused and unable to resist, he set his beer down and pushed away from the wall, making his way toward you.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, Dean tilted his head slightly and quirked a smile. “Need a hand there, Officer Short Stuff?”.
You froze mid-reach, startled by the sudden voice behind you. Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. “Officer Short Stuff? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”.
Dean shrugged, completely unfazed, as he stepped into the kitchen. “Well, I call it like I see it”. He moved past you, effortlessly grabbing the stack of cups from the shelf and handing them to you with a grin. “You’re welcome”.
You took the cups, giving him a slightly suspicious look, though you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks, I guess”.
Dean leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest as he looked you up and down, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “So, let me guess. You’re here to keep all of us in line? Make sure none of these crazies get too out of hand?”.
You gave him a playful smile, setting the cups down on the counter and turning to face him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just here to arrest anyone who makes bad jokes about my height”.
Dean chuckled, that low, gravelly laugh of his, shaking his head. “Good thing I didn’t make any jokes then. Just speaking the truth”.
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Uh-huh. And what about you? What’s your excuse for not being in costume?”.
Dean shrugged, glancing down at his usual jacket and jeans. “I’m wearing one. I’m the guy who saves the world from monsters and bad beer. Pretty convincing, huh?”.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Right. Well, your undercover work needs some fine-tuning”.
He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Maybe. But I think I’ve got this situation under control”.
There was a brief pause as the two of you exchanged glances, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you—confident but not overly cocky. Just enough to make you feel a bit flustered.
“So, what brings you here, anyway?”, you asked, leaning back against the counter across him. “Doesn’t seem like you’re the party type”.
Dean glanced toward the crowd for a second, his expression softening slightly as he nodded toward Sam, who was deep in conversation with Lina. “My little brother dragged me here. First date with that girl he’s been talking about. Figured I’d play the good wingman for the night”.
You followed his gaze and smiled at the sight of Sam, who looked much more relaxed now, happily chatting with Lina. “That’s sweet. You know, for a guy who doesn’t wear costumes, you’re a decent brother”.
Dean chuckled, turning back to you. “Don’t go spreading that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain”.
You smirked, your eyes meeting his again. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me”.
For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, and Dean felt something stir—a familiar, easy attraction that made him forget for a second about the constant weight he carried. Here, right now, he could just enjoy the conversation, the way your eyes sparkled when you teased him, and the effortless way the banter flowed between you.
“So, Officer”, he said, leaning in just a little, his voice low and playful. “What’s the penalty for distracting a cop from her duties?”.
You smiled, biting your lip slightly as you pretended to think. “Well, that depends. Are you planning on being a repeat offender?”.
Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, absolutely”.
You smirked at Dean’s playful response, your hand casually resting on the pair of handcuffs clipped to your belt. “Well, if you’re planning on being a repeat offender”, you began, toying with the metal cuffs, “maybe I should go ahead and arrest you now. Save myself the trouble later”.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the handcuffs, his smirk growing as he reached out and, without hesitation, gripped them lightly, testing their weight. He raised an eyebrow, his expression intrigued as he realized they were the real deal. “Well, look at that. You’re not just dressed as a cop, huh? These are actual handcuffs”, he said, his voice low and teasing.
You leaned in slightly, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “What, you think I’m not a real officer? Could’ve fooled you, huh?”.
Dean’s eyes flickered with amusement, his grip on the handcuffs still firm as he toyed with the chain between them. “I’ve gotta say, this just got a lot more interesting. So, Officer… are you planning on using these tonight?”. His voice was laced with humor, but there was a flicker of something more dangerous, a challenge hidden beneath the surface.
You raised an eyebrow, your arms crossed, pretending to consider it. “Depends. Are you going to give me a reason to?”.
Dean chuckled, finally letting go of the cuffs but not breaking eye contact with you. “Sweetheart, I’ve been giving people reasons to arrest me for years. You sure you can handle that?”.
You smirked, leaning in even closer, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Handle you, huh? You might be the one who’s in over his head. I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you in line”. You gave him a slow, deliberate once-over, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Dean’s grin widened, clearly enjoying every second of the exchange. “Oh yeah? I’m almost tempted to act up just to see what you’ve got planned”. His voice was thick with suggestion, and you could feel the tension simmering between you, neither of you backing down from the game.
“Careful. I’ve got some special skills when it comes to making sure bad boys like you behave”.
His eyes darkened slightly, the playful edge not fading but shifting into something a little more dangerous, more tempting. “Special skills, huh? You’ve got me curious now. How exactly do you plan on keeping me in line? I’m not exactly known for following orders”.
You took a step closer, your lips just inches from his, your voice a seductive purr. “Oh, I’m sure I could find a way to tie you down. Keep you in check. Handcuffs are just the beginning”.
Dean raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were the best challenge he’d faced in a long time. “I think you’re underestimating just how much trouble I can cause. But I’ve gotta admit, you’re making it sound pretty damn tempting”.
You leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Oh, I’m not underestimating you. In fact, I think I’d enjoy making sure you stay right where I want you. Let’s just say, I’m very… hands-on with my approach”.
Dean’s breath hitched slightly at your words, but he recovered quickly, his smirk never fading. “Hands-on? Sounds like a party I’d definitely stick around for”. He tilted his head, eyes locking with yours. “But tell me this, Officer. When you finally get those cuffs on me, what are you gonna do next?”.
Your smirk widened as Dean’s last words hung in the air. Without warning, you made your move—fast and smooth, taking him completely by surprise. In a fluid motion, you grabbed his wrist and spun him around, pressing his chest against the kitchen island before he even had a chance to react.
Dean’s eyes widened in shock as you swiftly snapped the cuffs around his wrists, his hands locked together behind his back. He let out a low laugh, his cheek pressed against the cold countertop. “Well, damn. Didn’t see that coming”, he muttered, clearly impressed despite himself.
You grinned, stepping back slightly to admire your work, your eyes gleaming with victory. “Guess I wasn’t exaggerating about being hands-on, was I?”. You leaned in close again, your voice low and teasing as you spoke right next to his ear. “How does it feel?".
Dean shifted slightly against the cuffs, testing them, but you had them secured tightly. He let out another chuckle, low and rough. “Alright. I’ve gotta give it to you—you’ve got some skills". His voice dropped, filled with that unmistakable mix of humor and challenge. “But you know, this only makes me want to break a few more rules”.
You grinned, stepping around the island to face him, eyes dancing with amusement. “I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy this so much”.
Just as you were about to reply to Dean’s playful challenge, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the moment. You glanced toward the doorway, and there stood Sam and Lina. Sam took one look at his brother cuffed on the kitchen island and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“What did you do this time, Dean?”, Sam asked, his voice half-resigned, half-amused.
Dean, ever the opportunist, turned his head as much as he could and flashed his brother a grin. “Hey, I’m the victim here. Officer Short Stuff took me down without warning”.
You raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly with a smirk. “So, Dean’s the name, huh?”.
Dean gave a low chuckle, still pinned against the countertop. “Yeah, well, now you know what name to shout when you need backup”.
You rolled your eyes, gripping his arm and helping him stand up—though not without a little roughness, just to remind him who was still in charge. His wrists remained cuffed behind his back as he straightened up, a smirk still firmly in place on his face.
Meanwhile, Lina leaned against the doorframe, watching the entire scene unfold with an amused expression. “You know”, she said with a grin, “I always said you were good at your job. But damn, girl, you don’t waste any time. Got him cuffed and everything. I’m impressed”.
You shot Lina a playful look, folding your arms as you leaned back against the counter. “Hey, what can I say? When you’ve got a troublemaker like this on your hands, you have to act fast”, you teased. “Besides, I thought I’d give him a taste of what real discipline feels like”.
Lina laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. You’ve always been the one to take charge. Poor Dean never had a chance”.
Dean, still cuffed and watching the exchange, raised an eyebrow. “Poor Dean, huh? I don’t know, I think I’m doing just fine”. he said, grinning shamelessly. “But, you know, Officer, it’s probably a good idea to uncuff me now… unless you plan on keeping me tied up all night”.
You glanced at him, smirking as you considered his words. “Well, maybe that’s exactly what I had in mind. Keep you out of trouble, right?”.
Dean chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Trust me, sweetheart, trouble’s a lot more fun when I’m not cuffed”.
With a mock sigh of reluctance, you finally stepped behind him and pulled the key from your belt, unlocking the handcuffs with a quick click. Dean flexed his wrists, rubbing them slightly as he turned to face you. “Thanks", he said, his tone teasing. “But next time, I might not go so easy on you”.
You raised an eyebrow at that, smirking as you pocketed the cuffs. “Next time, huh? Sounds like you’re already planning on breaking the law again”.
Dean winked, leaning in just a little closer. “Only if you’re the one bringing me in”.
Lina, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely contained amusement, shook her head with a grin. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s not get carried away”.
You shot her a playful look. “Don’t worry, Lina. I’ve got everything under control. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on this one”.
Dean gave a mock salute, grinning like he was enjoying every second of the attention. “And what a view it is”, he said, earning a playful nudge from you as Sam rolled his eyes.
Sam shook his head, grinning as he looked between you and Dean, clearly more amused than exasperated. “Alright, I think Dean’s got… something to take care of”, he said, his voice laced with humor. “Let’s get going before we witness something we definitely don’t want to”.
Lina laughed, nudging Sam with her elbow. “Yeah, I think we’ve seen enough flirting for one night. Let’s give these two some space”.
You shot Sam a playful glare, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, please, Sam. You make it sound like something’s actually going to happen”.
Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Who says it won’t?”.
Lina groaned dramatically, grabbing Sam’s arm. “Alright, that’s our cue to leave. Enjoy yourselves, guys”, she said with a wink, pulling Sam out of the kitchen as they made their way back into the party, leaving you and Dean alone once again.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Dean turned to you, his signature grin still firmly in place. “Well, they were quick to leave. Guess that means we’re all alone now”, he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your pulse quickened. “You’re trouble, Dean”.
Dean chuckled, stepping a little closer. “I think you’re starting to like that about me”.
Two hours later, the party was still in full swing, but you and Dean had found yourselves gravitating toward each other, the banter between you growing more heated with every passing minute. The air around you both felt thick, charged with an undeniable tension that neither of you could ignore. Every teasing word, every subtle touch, every glance shared only made it harder to keep things light.
You were standing near the back of the room now, tucked into a quieter corner as the party buzzed around you. Dean had been throwing playful comments your way all night, pushing the line with each one. It was like a game, one that neither of you seemed to want to end—but also didn’t want to lose.
Dean leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You know”, he drawled, that signature smirk plastered across his face, “I think the backseat of my car is practically screaming for us right now”.
You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the suggestion. There was that spark in his eyes, the one that promised he wasn’t joking—not entirely. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but you weren’t one to back down easily, not when you had the upper hand.
Raising an eyebrow, you replied with a teasing smirk, “Oh, is that so? I thought you were all about being a gentleman”.
Dean chuckled, his green eyes darkening with the weight of the moment as he leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Oh, sweetheart, I can be a gentleman. But I get the feeling you might want something a little more… not so gentleman like tonight”.
Your breath hitched, your pulse racing as his words sent a jolt of heat through you. The tension between you two was almost unbearable now, a palpable charge that had been building all night. You could feel the pull, that magnetic draw that made you want to throw caution to the wind and close the gap between you.
You bit your lip, meeting his gaze head-on. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just like keeping you on your toes”.
Dean’s smirk widened, his hand resting casually on the small of your back as he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ve been on my toes all night, and let me tell you, sweetheart, you’re killing me here".
The air around you seemed to hum, the noise of the party fading into the background as everything else blurred out. It was just you and Dean now, standing so close that every breath felt like a shared promise.
You could barely breathe, and neither could he. The weight of your back-and-forth flirting had built up into something more—something neither of you could resist any longer.
“So”, Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire, “what’s it gonna be? Are we doing this, or are we just going to keep playing games?”.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the temptation of his offer heavy in the air between you. Your gaze flickered to the door, then back to him. You could almost feel the heat radiating off him, his body inches from yours, the promise of what could happen hanging between you like a challenge.
You let out a slow breath, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Let’s find out what that backseat has to offer”.
Dean’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I knew you were trouble”.
Without another word, he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the house and toward the Impala parked just outside. The cool night air hit your skin as you made your way to the car, but the heat between the two of you didn’t diminish. If anything, it burned brighter.
Dean opened the door, the faint smell of leather filling the air as you glanced at the backseat. His hand on your waist brought you back to him, and you turned just in time to see him lean down, his lips finally crashing into yours in a kiss that felt like it had been building for hours—fiery, intense, and full of all the things you both had been holding back.
The backseat of the Impala had never felt more inviting.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 
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Part 2
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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year ago
Note
I can say for sure that we all loved the Catholic school smut and therefore it just made me a new dark desire so heree comes request with our favorite hybrid
Something horny and dark at the same time
(by the way I ALSO read and write to heal religious trauma 🙏🏻)
Reader is a werewolf raised by a very conservative family and there is a lot of abuse in it specially because they think she is demoniac (they aren't werewolves)
In his path to make hybrids klaus finds her and decides to take her, he saw the way she was tortured and remembered the way mikael used to beat him, so he kills her parents
He thinks she will be scared but she was relieved and didn't even blink or tried to help when they were being murdered
She was raised apart from the world so literally everything is new to her and klaus loves to show her all the beautiful things and teach her how to be a hybrid
Obviously she also doesn't know anything about sex (innocence kink maybe?) and eventually she and klaus starts to date but she has no idea of how a relationship should work and klaus makes a good time teaching her all about how to give and receive pleasure and ends with a really good smut like the last one you wrote
Love uuu
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The way you said ‘horny and dark’ I assumed you wanted a Yandere Klaus so that’s what I did
Warning: Conservative views from parents, religious trauma and bashing, smut bordering on Dub-con with how naive she is, Don’t Like=Don’t Read
DD:DNE
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If your parents had known you were a werewolf when they adopted you they would have given you back immediately. Sadly there’s no way to know that until you’re in an accident.
Your family was always abusive to you, from the moment you were given to them from the 100% definitely illegal agency (since a man with as many arrests as your ‘father’ can’t legally adopt a child). When you turned however, it became worse.
It was sad how it happened, you had saved your parents by grabbing and turning the steering wheel out of the way of an oncoming 18 wheeler, sadly as you did you ended up in the way of a man on a motorcycle who crashed into your car and fell down the side of the mountain you were driving up. The bike should have been driving slower, your father should have been paying attention, but of course only you suffer the consequences.
Your first shift was agonizing and your father, being the religious man that he was, knew you were a demon! A demon who changed on the full moon and every full moon he chained you up like a monster and left you in the woods outside to suffer. They prayed over you , sometimes spraying you with a hose or whipping you while promising God that your suffering was repentance or some shit like that. You decided a long time ago that if their God was this vengeful then you didn’t want anything to do with the “Heaven” they promised. Not that you knew anything different, the outside world had been cut off from you since you were given to them to live in the mountains like the religious zealots that your parents are. Your mother wasn’t nearly as abusive, she just spends her time praying over you for the safe return of your soul and ranting like your father about how the government is controlled by demon possessed people like you.
You never believed that anything could change, especially not because of Ray. Ray had found your house on a hike up the mountain and stumbled upon you chained up in the woods after a full moon. He tried to help you but your parents chased him off, your father shooting his shotgun at him and screaming about ‘demons sent to help fellow demons’ before he hosed you off and took you inside. You always spent the day after a change with your mother patching up your quickly healing wounds and reading from the Bible you had read 60,000 times in your life.
Ray came back to check on you every few weeks, he would bring you food to hide away and some books to read that weren’t the Bible. He told you that you were not a demon but we’re in fact a werewolf, a gene passed down from your real parents (probably a father) and though he tried to convince you to come with him, you knew your father would track you down and hurt him and his ‘pack’ as he called it.
Ray had left you last time with the promise of bringing you more food, it turns out he brought quite a bit more than that.
You heard his voice before you saw him, as well as another voice with him as they approached.
‘I told you I’ll do what you want but we get the kid first, that’s the deal if you want my pack.’ Ray snapped and a weird accented man responded.
‘I’m not taking care of a kid Ray, you didn’t say kid-‘
‘She ain’t a kid but she’s…you’ll see. Now shut up before her father hears us-‘
‘Everything can hear you stomping like that Ray.’ You stated, picking up the last few pieces of firewood you had chopped and putting them into the wheelbarrow.
‘Shit kid, I’m sorry…your face-‘
‘I know. I’m the one in pain, trust me, I know it’s there. He got my ribs real good this time too.’ You looked up to see Ray standing beside another 2 men, one had fluffy brown hair and looked like he didn’t give a shit about anything and the other was staring at you. He had blond hair and bright blue eyes, prettiest shade you’ve ever seen and he wasn’t shy about how he was looking you over.
‘Hurry up and grab your stuff kid, we’re busting you outta here.’ You rolled your eyes, lifting the wheelbarrow and walking it towards your house.
‘You’re delusional. My father will shoot you all and chain you up right beside me, next thing you know he’ll be beating the demons out of you too.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you, you’re a werewolf, not a demon-‘
‘Look, I believe you Ray…sorta, but he won’t. He will see that you’re like me and he’ll either kill you or hurt you. Take your friends and go before they get hurt too.’ You began piling the wood up on the back porch where it needed to go and Ray grabbed your shoulders, stopping you.
‘Please Y/n, please come with me? He’s going to kill you one of these days and I can’t stand to see that happen-‘
‘Then stop coming here Ray! You’re risking your life for a girl you don’t know who is never getting out of here! I don’t know anything besides this, I’m an idiot, I don’t even know how the light up box works!’ He tried hard to hide his smile at that, knowing what you meant.
‘Once again, it’s called a cellphone, and I will teach you-‘
‘You don’t know what a phone is? Seriously Klaus, this is a waste of our time.’ The brunette stated to his friend and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, knowing he’s right.
Klaus’ POV
‘Shut up Stefan, Ray is right.’
‘He is-‘
‘I am?’
‘Yes, he is. This girl needs our help, and after all, I am on the search for werewolves. It was Y/n, yes?’ The girl nodded, clearly wary of me and I couldn’t blame her. Living up here off the grid with nothing but your seemingly abusive adoptive parents must be a new form of torture and werewolf or not, I couldn’t let this beautiful girl continue to suffer…I also had some ideas about a few fun things I could teach her. ‘Okay Y/n, why don’t you get your things you want to keep and you can come with us? Don’t worry about your father, he won’t hurt you-‘
‘He’ll hurt you! Don’t you get it?! He will shoot you Klaus, why would you risk getting hurt for me?’ I stepped forward, tucking this girls long hair behind her ears and making her look at me.
‘Number one I can’t really die, and while I can get hurt it won’t last, number two, because I want to. You don’t deserve this kind of pain, I know what it’s like and you need my help so I’m going to help you.’ She stared at me momentarily as if I had put the stars in the sky before her eyes hardened again. ‘Come on, I’ll come with you.’ I took her arm in mine and walked up to the door beside her. ‘Invite me in gorgeous.’
‘What…you can come in?’ She was clearly confused and it was actually kind of adorable as I walked into the house beside her and into her bedroom which was just off the back door. The amount of crosses that hung on the walls was dizzying, pictures of Bible scenes and Jesus on the walls…this girl is going to need some serious therapy. ‘What do I pack?’ I looked down to see her holding a backpack and sighing. She’s never gone anywhere in her life, of course she doesn’t know what to pack.
‘Here, I’ll put clothes in here. You grab anything else you want to keep.’ I shoved clothes into the bag and noted how desperately I needed to get her appropriate clothing and not ‘Jesus’ clothing. When I stood she put a few books into the bag and a picture of herself with a dog but nothing else.
Just as we were about to walk out we were cut off by a gunshot and I pulled her behind me as we ran outside, she gasped at seeing her father aiming a shotgun at Stefan and Ray. ‘Y/n! How dare you allow this thing into our home! You whore!’ My body tensed up as I felt her hands clutch into the back of my shirt. This girl was innocent and terrified much like I was, she has been kept from experiencing the world and knowing anything besides this Hell and I won’t allow it any longer. Besides, she will be a very fun person to have along the ride, I’ll have to teach her everything but on the plus side, I’ll get to teach her everything.
‘If you call her that again I’ll shove that gun down your throat.’ I growled and he turned his gun on me.
‘No! You could hurt Y/n-‘
‘Our whore of a daughter made her choice when she opened her legs for this demon! You’re like her, aren’t you? Cursed?!’
‘Not anymore. My curse was lifted, I’m just a werewolf now…well I’m also a vampire but that’s beside the point. You’ve crippled your child keeping her here like this, beat her, chained her and you don’t care one little bit, do you?’
‘That thing is not my daughter! It never was! It is a beast from the circles of Hell!’ I dropped her bag, taking a step forward when her hand grabbed my arm and stopped me from moving any further. I turned to look at her and held her face to make sure she paid attention to me.
‘It’s alright love, I promise. You will never be hurt again, you are mine now. Understand?’ She shook her head “no” and I should have known she wouldn’t get that. ‘I take care of you now, you stay with me. I’ll teach you everything and you won’t leave me, promise me.’ She looked shocked but nodded her head, smiling excitedly and hugging me tightly with her head resting on my chest. It was actually adorable how short she was…sexy as well.
She suddenly gasped in pain as she was yanked away from me, her ‘father’ clutching her wrist too tightly. ‘You will die today, demon! And then I will punish my demon child for whoring herself out to the Devil!’ As he raised the shotgun again I grabbed it, bending it in half and watching his eyes widen before pulling him to me by his collar.
‘Interesting choice of words. She hasn’t even begun to whore herself out for me, but you can be sure she will. I should thank you for that I think, she doesn’t know anything about the world and she will be quite easily moldable…I’m not going to thank you of course, you’re an insane child abuser but at least in your last moments you can know that she will be everything you didn’t want her to be. Interesting how things work out that way, isn’t it?’ He tried to fight to his credit but it was much to easy to pull his heart from his chest. I dropped his body to the ground and heard his wife screaming bloody murder but I tuned that out as I looked to Y/n who was staring at his body before looking up at me, excitement in her eyes which I loved instantly. I turned and snapped the women’s neck quickly, irritated with the screaming before turning back to Y/n who grabbed a rag that was on the porch and began cleaning the blood off of my hand like it was her job. ‘Thank you, Kitten, you’re just too sweet.’ I pulled her to my side and turned to walk back over to Stefan and Ray.
‘Why are we taking her? She’s just going to be a distra-‘ I reached out, grabbing ahold of Stefan’s throat before growling down at him.
‘You don’t need to worry about her again. Y/n is none of your concern Stefan. Shut it.’ He nodded and I released him before turning to Ray. ‘Now to you, where are the wolves?’ I asked him and he sighed, pulling out his map as I handed Stefan the duffel bag and turned to lift Y/n onto my back, not wanting her to have to hike up the mountain. As Ray showed us where we were and where the wolves were I could feel Y/n playing with my hair which made me smile.
As soon as he gave up the location of the pack I snapped his neck, Stefan being left to carry his body up the mountain with us. It wasn’t a long hike from Y/n’s home and we got to the clearing in about half an hour, changing all of the wolves before sitting and waiting for them all to wake up which would take a bit of time, about an hour if Ray suddenly waking was any gauge of time. As he woke though his eyes began to bleed and he suddenly lunged forward at Y/n who screamed and clutched to me tightly. Stefan tried to grab him but only ended up with a werewolf bite on his arm before Ray was gone.
‘Well, you best go get him.’ I told him and he glared making Y/n whine.
‘Aren’t you gonna heal me?’ I shook my head.
‘Once you come back with Ray? Yes, and I would hurry. That looks bad.’ I stated before Stefan ran off after the hybrid, leaving Y/n and I alone.
‘I don’t like him.’ She spoke up and I snorted.
‘He doesn’t like you either so I would say you’re a good judge of character.’ I joked making her smile.
‘I like you though.’
‘Well, everyone is allowed one mistake.’ Her eyes widened and she shoved me playfully, leaning into my side. ‘It’s gonna be a while before they wake up, why don’t you come sit on my lap and snuggle with me?’ I proposed and she looked up at me, tilting her head.
‘What’s snuggle?’ My eyes widened before I sighed.
‘It means let me hold you. You’re mine now, I’m allowed to hold you all I want.’ Y/n nodded her head, clearly thinking as she moved to sit on my lap and lay her head into my neck.
‘What does being yours mean?’
‘Hmm, that’s a good question Kitten.’ She blushed a dark shade, clearly enjoying her nickname. ‘It means that only I can touch you, no other man should be too close or putting their hands on you. It means that it’s my job to take care of you and make you feel good in every way I can, to protect you and ensure you’re happy…does that make sense?’ I wondered, knowing those concepts should be things she understands at least and she nodded her head.
‘Are you mine?’ I took pause at that, considering that question. It’s been a long time since I’ve considered only having one women in my life, and I know if I say “yes” she’s not going to want me to be with any other women, she seems the jealous type which was actually a very cute thought. As I considered this I began to realize how attached to her I’ve become already and I suddenly knew I couldn’t let her go.
‘Yes I am, Kitten. I’m all yours, no one else’s. But that means that you can’t leave me, okay? We belong to each other, that means I take care of and protect you and you take care of me, in every way I need.’ She nodded her head, before looking nervous.
‘Can…can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?’ She asked nervously and she was the sweetest thing I had ever seen. Her innocence is precious and she makes it too easy to take advantage of it, but I actually find myself not wanting to hurt her, just have her be mine.
‘Oh Kitten, of course I can! I will always help you baby, do you want to start now?’ I offered and she nodded, excitedly with a smile on her face. ‘Okay, can you turn and straddle my lap for me?’ She turned herself and threw her leg over my lap, gasping as I pulled her close and pressed her cunt against my hard cock through our clothes. ‘Good girl. Now just relax, and let me play with you. Can you do that?’ She looked confused but nodded her head anyway. ‘That’s a good girl.’ I leaned back against the tree behind me and pulled her down to press our lips together gently, letting her get used to the feeling as I molded my lips to hers before pulling her back and reaching up, my thumb pulling her chin down to open her mouth before pressing inside, my thumb brushing up her tongue. She looked unsure but soon closed her lips around it, sucking on my thumb like a pacifier…a thought that hardened my cock even more to an almost painful extent. I rolled my hips up into hers and groaned, feeling the heat of her cunt through her pants and wanting to be buried inside of her so badly. I pulled my thumb back, opening her mouth again. ‘Stick your tongue out, Kitten.’ I demanded and she did as she was told instantly. ‘Such a good girl, I need this mouth on my cock baby, can you do that for me?’ She nodded quickly before pulling her tongue back into her mouth and speaking.
‘What’s a cock?’ My eyes widened in shock at just how ignorant she is, but of course she is.
‘Okay…you’re a girl and you have a pretty little pussy right here in your panties, right?’ I unbuttoned her jeans and cupped her pussy in my hand through her cotton panties and she gasped, the new feeling being overwhelming I’m sure. ‘Well I have a cock, and my cock wants more than anything to be buried inside your tight little pussy so that I can make you feel good, but I need you to help me first.’ I took hold of her thighs and lifted her, helping her to her knees right between my legs and she rested her head on my thigh, looking up at me with such an innocent look on her face that I almost felt guilty for corrupting her…almost. I unbuttoned my pants, pulling them and my boxer briefs down just enough that my cock escaped and slapped against my stomach. She stared at it in shock and curiosity, reaching her hand out and sliding her finger up my shaft which sent a chill up my spine. ‘Fuck! Okay Kitten, open those pretty lips for me and stick that tongue out-‘ I grabbed ahold of her jaw firmly and made sure she was looking up at me. ‘Absolutely no teeth, understand?’ She nodded and I leaned down, licking over her tongue and kissing her roughly. ‘God you’re so perfect, do you know that?’ She whined before leaning down and licking her tongue straight up my cock before suckling on the head, she was so good at it that in any other situation I would have been convinced she had been doing this for years. ‘My good girl, so fucking good!’ I pushed her head down slightly and she got the message, taking more of me into her mouth and bobbing her head up and down.
I don’t know if this is the best blowjob I’ve ever had or if the situation is just turning me on so much that it’s ethereal but it feels as if she is sucking my soul out through my cock. If this is how good she is for me in only a few hours, I can’t imagine what kind of whore I can turn this girl into if I just make her feel good and needed.
‘Fuck! Shit, I’m gonna cum…I’m gonna give you a tasty little treat, okay? Are you ready?’ I asked, grunting as I felt that perfect tongue push me over the edge and just as she whined an affirmation I held the back of her head and came hard, straight onto her tongue. I tossed my head back, feeling myself cum more than I ever had before and she swallowed before using her hand to catch what leaked out the corner of her mouth. I had yet to have sex since becoming a full hybrid…maybe the werewolf in me makes me cum more than before…the image of how full I could fill my Kittens cunt was the driving force of my cock hardening all over again so quickly.
‘I like it, tastes yummy.’ Y/n spoke, licking her hand clean and before I knew it I had moved, snatching her up into my arms and pinning her down to the ground underneath me. ‘Klaus?’
‘Daddy…call me Daddy. Can you do that for me, Kitten?’ She smiled up at me, nodding her head before wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me sweetly. I quickly reached down, pulling her jeans and panties off of her legs which caused her to whimper. ‘What’s wrong?’ She looked around quickly and I turned her eyes back to me. ‘It’s okay Kitten, talk to me.’
‘What if someone wakes up, or Stefan comes back?’ She worried and I just smiled.
‘Don’t worry Y/n, you’re Daddy’s now, and Daddy will never let anyone see your pretty little pussy but me, and if they do I’ll remove their eyes.’ I teased and she giggled as I nipped at her neck gently. Lifting her thighs up around my waist I groaned as my cock touched her pussy. ‘This is gonna be uncomfortable for a second, but I promise Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good that you’ll never want me to stop touching you.’
‘I trust you.’ She mumbled, nervous but allowing me to do as I wanted.
I considered that for a moment. If anyone else told me that they trust me I would call them crazy, it would be a horrible decision, but not her. I want her to trust me…in that moment I realized how much I needed her to love me. Y/n is mine now and there is nothing that will ever be permitted to take her away from me. ‘Good. Daddy will take care of you, just breathe until the discomfort is gone.’ I instructed and pushed my cock into her. She hissed as my eyes rolled back into my head, this girls pussy possibly being the tightest I’ve ever experienced if not just in hundreds of years considering it had been centuries since I had fucked a virgin, but virgin or not she is tight as fuck.
‘Daddy, Ow! Oh! It stings!’ I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers to distract her as I stayed still, allowing her to get used to the feeling before pulling back out. She squealed as I thrust back into her which I loved, setting a steady pace until her face relaxed and I could see that she was now truly enjoying herself. As she did I lifted her legs around my waist and fucked her tight little cunt the way I desperately needed to.
‘Such a good girl letting Daddy fuck you like this, so tight! Perfect little Kitten cunt!’ She whined as I spoke and I looked down to see her with watery eyes and her mouth hanging open.
‘Perfect, Daddy?’
‘Fucking Perfect!’ I confirmed, feeling her pussy squeeze me tighter. The need to be even deeper inside of her was overwhelming and I grabbed her waist, lifting her against my chest and pinning her to the tree beside us, now thrusting up into her even harder. She gasped, wincing and I could see she was in pain but she didn’t object, not once leaving me to ease up just a little bit before feeling my balls tighten and digging my face into her neck, biting into her throat as I came inside of her. Once again the amount of cum that I filled her with was fantastic and as her pussy squeezed down on me I knew that she was enjoying herself as well. ‘Do you like that Kitten? You love being full of me, don’t you?’ She nodded quickly, arms tight around my neck as she held on like she was afraid I would disappear. ‘Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill you with cum everyday from now on.’ I told her, licking over the bloody bite mark on her neck.
‘Really? We can do this again?’
‘Are you kidding? You’re mine now Kitten, remember? Daddy is gonna fuck you everyday, multiple times a day, every which way you can imagine.’ I explained, pulling my cock out of her and looking around briefly before setting her down on a sleeping bag, using tissues to clean us both up.
‘How many ways are there?’ She questioned, excitedly before it was followed by a yawn making me smile.
‘Daddy’s gonna fuck you everywhere we go. In the hotel, in the car while Stefan drives, against every surface I can find!’ I watched as my cum dripped out of her hole, loving the sight of her being so full of me before cleaning her off and pulling her panties and pants back up her legs. ‘You’re a flexible little baby too, aren’t you Kitten?’ I teased, latching her bra before kissing her head, enjoying the topless sight in front of me. ‘That means I can bend you any way I want to stick my cock in you, Daddy’s never gonna stop fucking you, in every hole I can.’ I wrapped my arms around her from behind as she looked for her shirt, kissing behind her ear and hearing her gasp. ‘Do you want to make Daddy feel extra good and let me put my cock in your little asshole?’ I was teasing her, expecting her to be unsure and nervous about my playing with her ass, however she shocked me completely as she turned and pressed her lips to mine hard.
‘Yes Daddy!’ -Kiss- ‘Want your cock!’ -Kiss- ‘All the time Daddy! Anywhere you want, wanna make you happy!’ My eyes widened and I looked down at her in shock.
‘You want to let Daddy stick his cock up your ass?’
‘Will that make you feel good, Daddy?’ She asked as if it was the most important thing in the world to her and I suddenly realized how much of a complete fucking cum slut I’m going to turn my girl into.
‘Yes Kitten, and Daddy will make you feel good too, Daddy wants you full of my cum all day every day forever, I want my cum leaking out of both holes every time we go out, there won’t be a single chance people don’t know that you’re mine.’
‘Okay Daddy.’ I turned her around, pressing my lips to hers and lifting her up against my chest.
‘I think you’re gonna be the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time Kitten.’ As soon as this pack is turned I’m turning her as well and ensuring that I can keep my little mate around for eternity, she’s too delicious not to. I’m going to teach her whatever I want and have the sluttiest girl on earth for the rest of my endless existence.
‘Daddy?!’ Y/n pulled back quickly and I could see the terror in her eyes, shocking me at how quickly she turned.
‘What is it Kitten? Did I scare you? You don’t have to-‘
‘Daddy! Are They Supposed To Look Like That?!’ I turned around and just barely moved before one of the wolves bit into my Kittens shoulder. His eyes were bleeding black blood and he looked like some kind of zombie.
‘No…stay right here, Don’t Move! Do you hear me?!’
‘Yes!’ She responded as I set her on the fallen tree and turned to the 2 Hybrids that were now awake, examining them carefully before one tried to sink his teeth into me and I quickly ripped his heart out. I was trying to figure out what happened when 2 more were suddenly up and pissed off, leading to me tearing their hearts out as well, moving on as the rest of them quickly began jumping up and screeching or growling and trying to bite at me. I had just killed the last one when I suddenly heard Y/n scream and I spun around to see her backing away from a girl who lunged at her. She turned to the trees and I grabbed the women, ripping her heart out before moving to grab Y/n and holding her arm. ‘No! Daddy-Help!’
‘It’s me! It’s okay baby, you’re okay.’ She gasped, breathing a sigh of relief and hugging me tightly, crying into my chest. ‘Daddy will keep you safe, I promise. You’re okay.’
‘Are you?’ I hesitated as she asked and realized I wasn’t. ‘Daddy? Are you okay?’ I nodded before she pulled away and turned to the campsite to see the 15 dead wolves.
‘After all of this, I finally break the curse and I still can’t make more hybrids…FUCK!’ I screamed, knowing my hybrid visage was on display as my anger was running way too high.
‘It’s gonna be okay, we can find out what went wrong and fix it, right?’ Y/n held onto my arm, unafraid of me like everyone else would have been and it was a bit shocking. ‘You waited this long, you’ll make it work! I know it, and I’ll help you!’ I sat down against the tree and sighed heavily, knowing in that moment that as long as Y/n is here, I won’t be alone again…I just need to figure out how to turn her before she’s gone too.
‘Thank you Kitten, you’re Daddy’s good girl.’
Just as I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out what went wrong, Y/n kneeled on the ground in front of me and leaned against me, kissing my jaw. ‘Can I make Daddy feel good again? Maybe it’ll help?’
This girl may just be the death of me. ‘Yes Little Wolf, I think that will help very much…’
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Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist
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divinesolas · 6 months ago
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i just found out my boyfriend is a werewolf?!?!
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summary: You overhear a super strange conversation between your long term boyfriend and brother.
r.q: hiii :) i LOVE your blog and fics and was wondering if you would consider writing a fic were jace is a werewolf. I don't have any particular trops in mind, ill let your Imagination run free. love you and take care 💞🫶🏻
w.c: 1.5k
cw: modern/supernatural (not the show) au, college cregan and jace, cregan’s twin!reader gn!reader, werewolf! cregan and jace, sort of a crack fic idk but not really, cliche werewolf i didnt try to do anything crazy with it, semi dialogue heavy, idk this ones just a fluff stupid fic
a.n: needed a cleanser from my longer fic so take this !! i tried to have fun with this and didn’t want to take it too seriously so i hope you guys like it!! LOVE UUU
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Its been a week since you’ve spoken to your boyfriend. Its not your fault. What are you supposed to do when you overhear a conversation like that?
About a week ago you had gotten out of class early and you knew jacaerys was at your brothers place so you decided to pick up lunch for all three of you to surprise them. You try your best to quietly open the door and step in, opening your mouth to call to them but you shut your mouth quickly hearing your boyfriend Jace.
“You can’t tell them.” This has you curious but more so a little angry. you didn’t peg jacaerys for the type to do shit behind your back but you never really know. So you instead quickly move to stand hidden from view to listen to them.
“You can’t hide this type of thing from them man, what the hell are they gonna think when they find out.”
“they won’t”
You hear your brother let out a big groan, “They needs to know Jace they’re my fucking family im not gonna let you play around with them.”
Jacaerys voice changes and he starts to sound more angry, “You know im completely serious about them cre.”
“Then tell them you're a fucking werewolf.”
*……..*
*……..*
*…….*
*What?*
What the hell we’re they talking about? Werewolves? is this some type of sigma male podcast shit? or is he like into abo? You don’t understand.
“You haven’t told them you're a werewolf either cre.”
*WHAT?*
You almost pop your head around the corner to ask them what the fuck they we’re talking about because you could not wrap your head around what they were talking about? Werewolves aren’t real. Maybe they heard you enter and we’re trying to play a prank on you.
“You know i plan to you piece of shit.”
“Then don’t get on my ass about not telling them yet.”
“fine. but once i tell them you have to tell them man, i don’t like you keeping them in the dark.”
“i will i will i swear. You got a cover for this Friday?”
“Camping trip. Already let them know. Fuck i hate full moons man.” you do remember cregan telling you they we’re planning on going out for the whole weekend on a camping trip. You don’t like camping so you said no when he asked if you wanted to come, you thought he had a weird face on after you said no but now you’re thinking it was a face of relief.
They seemingly switch topic talking about what they were planning on eating and you look back at your car you can see from the window and remember you left the food in there. You can’t just enter now?! you have to leave, so once again you slowly leave the house praying that they had no clue you were there. You get back to your car and take your food from the bag before you walk the takeout bag to the door and leave it at the doorstep before running back to your car and driving off.
You only pull out your phone to text them you left them food but couldn’t stay to eat since you had a project to work on before you throw your phone to the back seat and let out a shaky breath. They had to be fucking kidding right? but for some odd reason it all made sense. Every month, and based on your calendar it always landed on a full moon, your brother and your boyfriend always happened to be busy and couldn’t be around.
Both of them are oddly strong, Your boyfriend often joked that he could smell you from a mile away when you asked why he never jumped when you tried to surprise him. when you went out to dinner with him on your first date you thought he would be a pretentious prick when he ordered a very rare steak but he just laughed it off nervously and told you that's just how he likes it. The more and more you think about him and his odd habits you come to agree with the disturbing realization.
He was a fucking werewolf.
It was easy to avoid the two of them for the first couple days. you had your own apartment so you didn't have any reason to have to go to your brothers but jacaerys was a lot harder to avoid. He would text you all the time asking if you wanted to hang or if you were free to go out with him and you feel really bad whenever you would say no or leave his messages unanswered. It was the worst when yesterday he had come knocking at your door. You didn't open it. Too nervous to face him. Your heart broke when you hear his dejected sigh before he walked away.
Today however he had not texted you at all. you begin to worry. You don’t want to break up with him. You love him, but you're not exactly sure how to approach all this. You can’t just ask reddit, hey, what do i do when i find out my boyfriend of two years is a fucking werewolf??? but you couldn’t sit still during class, Why hadn’t he reached out? he always says good morning but it was well into late afternoon and he still has not said a word to you.
You’re not paying attention when you leave class and end up running into somebody. Apologizing before you take a step back and freeze. “Jace.” He lets out a smile and a nervous breathy laugh, “Hi baby.” You let out a hushed hi and his eyes dart all over your face with nervous. “Come.” You can’t reject him when he’s standing right in front of you, so when he grabs your hand you make no move to protest and let him lead you.
Soon enough your following him to the park and gasp when you see a set up picnic table, he turns to you nervously. “You’ve been busy recently and we haven’t spent a lot of time together-” You cup his cheeks and press a kiss against his lips pulling away and giving him a big smile. All the past days worried washed away from you as you admire you cute boyfriend. “I love it.” He grins and pressed a peck to your lips as leads you two to sit down on the bench side by side, he’s always preferred to sit next to you than across from you.
You can tell that all the food inside the basket is store bought but it doesn’t matter, he’s never been much of a cook anyway. After awhile you had even forgotten why you hadn’t seen him until he quiets down and looks at you. “are we good?”
“are you a fucking werewolf?”
He freezes. You hadn’t meant it for it to come out like that but how else do you word asking him something like this? “its just i heard you and cregan have this really weird convo and i started to think about it and it made sense, i don't know im sorry i just-” he shushes you lightly and cups you cheeks turning your head towards him. “I am. and im sorry i never told you, i should have i know but its a difficult thing to bring up.”
You just nod your head lightly and sigh. “Werewolves are fucking real.” He laughs, “Yes.” “is it like twilight?” “no.” “you didn't put like a mark on me?” “is that a twilight thing?” “Youve never seen it?” “i don’t watch things with wolves in them it gives me the ick.” “we need to watch them.” “are you even listening to me?” “oh oh is it like teen wolf?” “absolutely not.” “ugh wait you’ve seen teen wolf?” “baela forced me to watch it.” “is baela a werewolf?” “no a witch.” “ughh lucky i would love to be a witch.”
“You believe me?” You tilt your head at him, “Why wouldn’t i? don’t tell me your lying to me.” he shakes his head as he smiles at you, “No no its just, i didn’t think this would go over so well.” You give him another peck on the lips, “I just wish you told me sooner, asshole. and i wanna know how all this shit works.” “deal.” You two share another kiss and press your foreheads against each other.
“So if cregans a werewolf then why am i not?”
“Wait you know cregans a werewolf?”
a.n i realized its a little weird that they didn’t notice you were there because they have a good sense of smell but im just thinking they were too lost in the conversation or you are over to cregans place often enough that his place smells like you. whatever ! idk!
perm jacaerys taglist: <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
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hawkeyetrained · 8 months ago
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I'm the Alpha
Derek Hale x reader platonic...kinda? Not properly together but reader has a crush on him
Other Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey
Warnings: canon violence (kinda?), language (like 1 swear), mention of blood, stiles and derek bickering as they do, that’s it I think?
Summary: Trying to help the newly turned werewolf after he was arrested seems to go worse than anyone could have expected. Thankfully the alpha has it covered
Word Count: 1,363
Stiles, Derek, and I were seated in the infamous blue jeep outside the police station. Derek’s new beta was inside, and the full moon was going to be at its peak in moments. It was our job to get in there and hopefully get Isaac out before he tore apart the entire station.
“Ok, now the keys to the cells are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office.” Stiles began to explain. I leaned between the two seats, listening to my friend tell us the plan. “The problem is getting past the front desk.”
Derek shrugged in the passenger seat. “I’ll distract her.”
Stiles’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…you? You’re not going in there.” He grabbed onto Derek’s shoulder as he talked. Derek was arrested a few weeks ago thanks to whatever Stiles and Scott shared with the sheriff. A firm glare set in Derek’s eyes the longer the hand that Stiles placed stayed on his shoulder. “I’m taking my hand off.”
“I was exonerated.”
I sighed. “You’re still a person of interest though.”
“An innocent person.” He rebutted, giving me a look like it was obvious.
“You? Yeah, right. Ok, fine. What’s your plan?” Stiles questioned how Derek would distract the front desk officer.
“To distract her.” Derek drew the words out, like Stiles simply didn’t understand the meaning.
“Uh-huh.” Stiles nodded. “How? By punching her in the face?”
I rolled my eyes at my friend, opting to side with Derek, who simply huffed. “By talking to her.” I could barely see the front officer, her hair pulled back into a standard bun as she shuffled paperwork around.
“Ok, all right. Give us a sample. Practice on Y/N. What are you going to open with?” My cheeks burned as Derek and I looked at each other, silence filling the Jeep. “Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?”
Derek shrugged again, turning to look out the front window. “I’m thinking of punching you in the face.”
“Ok, ok. Both of you chill out. Derek can distract her, ok, Stiles? I’m sure he’ll have no problem. I mean, haven’t you noticed how all the girls look at him? He could probably stand there in silence, like you said, and still manage to distract her.” I tried mediating the situation, letting Derek get out of the car before I climbed out through the passenger side. Derek held the door open for me as I jumped out, rounding the car to meet up with Stiles in order to help him get the cell keys.
The relationship between Derek and I was vastly different from him and the two boys. Derek had been cold and quite harsh with Scott when he was first bit, and dismissive of Stiles, but with me, he’d been almost gentle. Derek took the time to help explain some of the things about werewolves to me, so I’d be able to help my friend through the changes, and over time I had developed the biggest crush on him.
As Derek started talking with the front desk officer, Stiles grabbed my hand and pulled me along through a side door and down the hall to his father’s office. I stayed by the window as a lookout as Stiles went over to the lockbox on the wall. He quickly punched in the code and pulled the cover off. “Did you get them?” I asked, watching for anyone in the hall.
“Oh no.” Stiles looked back over to me, showing the empty case before we both headed out of the office. “I’m going to check this way, you go see if you can find Isaac, try to keep him calm.”
“Be careful.” I told Stiles, turning and heading down the hall towards the back of the station. My steps managed to stay pretty quiet as I turned down hall after hall. I had plenty of practice running around the station; having grown up with Stiles as my best friend, I spent a ton of time in the station.
I turned down another hall, only to come face to face with a deputy. “Oh, I um...” I hesitated on what to say, flickering my gaze down to the ground to think. My eyes, however, caught sight of a bloody pant leg and keys hanging from one hand of the officer. Looking back up, I took a step back. “Oh, shit.” I attempted to turn and run, nearly managing to call for Stiles or Derek, but a hand clasped over my mouth, and another wrapped around my chest, dragging me backwards.
My feet thrashed as I tried gaining some footing on the slippery floors, hands trying to pull at the stronger man’s arms around me, but it was no use. I did manage to grab onto the fire alarm lever and pull as I was dragged into the holding area, the alarms sounding and lights flickering instantly.
Finally, the officer, who I was now assuming to be a hunter, threw me to the ground and turned to face the three cells that lined the back wall. I slid back towards a corner of the room, looking at the cell doors to see the middle one barely hanging on to its hinges.
Isaac pounced from the other end of the room, shoving the hunter into the wall near me. He had completely wolfed out, fangs bared and eyes glowing bright yellow as he shoved against the hunter. I scrambled on my hands to the other side of the steel desk in the room, opting for that between Isaac and I should he turn his attention from the hunter. The hunter had pulled a syringe from his pocket, filled with some kind of thick liquid I was sure was meant to hurt or even kill the werewolf in the room. Isaac was too quick though. He managed to catch the hunters hand before it could jab the needle into his skin and twisted. The hunters wrist bent back to a point I thought it was going to snap before he dropped the syringe to the floor, the glass rolling a few feet to be closer to me as Isaac slammed the hunter’s head back into the wall, effectively knocking him out.
Derek stepped into the room with us then, his boot coming down to shatter the glass syringe near me. Isaac had turned his attention from the hunter on the ground towards the sound of shattering glass and whatever he could smell coming from the liquid that seemed slowly onto the tiled floor, his bright yellow eyes stopping dead on me as I still sat on the ground. A deep growl built up in his chest as he turned fully to face me, shoulders tensed like I was the next target, and he was prepared to attack.
I barely had enough time to raise my hands up as a weak form of defense before Derek was in front of me. His arms were slightly flared out at his sides, knees bent into a half crouch, as he let out a loud and deep roar towards the beta. Isaac was on the ground, curled up into the wall opposite me a moment after, hands shaking as they wrapped around his head for protection.
My heart was pounding in my ears still when Derek turned back to me. His eyes were burning bright red but fading back to his normal deep brown as he reached out to me with one hand. My own hand trembled as I held onto his and let him pull me to my feet next to him. “You ok?” He asked, his hand dropping mine but coming up to brush some of my hair out of my face, eyes searching for any wounds or fear I’d have of him.
I let out a shaky breath, but I nodded. “How…how did you do that?” My gaze dropped to Isaac for a moment, noticing that he had shifted out of his wolf form but was covered in sweat and still looked terrified of Derek. A smirk crossed Derek’s face for a moment when I finally looked back up at him.
“I’m the alpha.”
@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1
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ladykailitha · 4 months ago
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Well By Moonlight Part 15
Sorry for this being so late, I thought I set it up last night but hasn't been kind to me the last couple of days with the move.
This week we get all our old favorites back as I work through my backlog. The final chapter of Sweet Surrender will be out on Saturday.
This is another Nancy centric chapter as she tries to track down the wisp of her memories.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14
~
Nancy’s first stop was the library. Because as much as Steve’s comments galled her, she knew in his goofy, big-hearted way was right. She needed to find out about what happened fifteen years ago. Maybe even further than that. But fifteen years was a good place to start.
She drove into town. As strange as that was to think of, most of the pack had cars of some sort. Steve just preferred to travel in wolf form when he could and now she knew why.
She had met a couple of conspiracy nut jobs in her time as a reporter for their school newspaper, but there was something about this that felt bigger than it looked on the outside.
Nancy walked into the library and flashed her pack ID to the librarian. She was going to a specific part of the library, one only available to Domini, alphas, and Wayne Munson. The records of supernatural entities.
She strolled to a secure door that librarian unlocked from a button under her desk, and waited until the door swung open. It revealed a dark and winding stairway that with her enhanced vision she was able to traverse without issue.
She reached the bottom of the stair and smiled at the sight before her. Perched on a table like a gargoyle was Eddie, who was watching his uncle read. She cleared her throat.
Both men looked up at her in surprise.
“Nancy!” Eddie cried. “What brings you to the coolest place in the library?”
She raised her eyebrow at Wayne. “Is he supposed to be here?”
“Family. It’s allowed,” he smiled.
She neared the table to peer over Wayne’s shoulder. “What are you guys looking up?”
Eddie and Wayne shared a look.
“Steve told me everything,” Nancy said primly. “About Tommy, the attack on Patrick. His past. His fears about where all this is coming from.”
“Oh.” Eddie blinked at her a moment. “Wayne and I are trying to find which supe is scentless or as near to as a supe can get. Why are you here?”
Nancy thought about it for a moment and had to concede that if Steve trusted them, she had no reason to not to as well.
“I’m looking into the circumstances of Steve’s fostering and the events leading up to that,” she said, coming over to sit down across from Wayne. “There is something that I only vaguely remember about that time that sticks in my mind and I’m hoping that by going through the records I can find something that sparks that memory.”
Wayne scratched his chin. “I’m working on the angle that whatever it was that attacked Patrick was the same one that killed Steve’s parents.”
Nancy blinked at him a moment and then pulled the book over to her so she could see what they were looking at more clearly.
“I could smell it,” she murmured. “So it’s something that werewolves can scent, but harder for vampires to do the same.”
She turned the book around as Eddie and Wayne shared a glance. She went flipping through the pages.
“There are a few supernatural beings that it could be,” she continued. “We tend to forget about the ones that don’t transform in someway. We think of werewolves, sirens, gwyllgi, selkie and the like. Even vampires have a higher form that they transform into. But there are creatures like the cat sìth and djinn that don’t transform. What you see is what you get.”
“You’re thinking that whatever this beastie is, is a cryptid?” Wayne asked, watching her flip the through the pages faster than his slow, methodic research.
Nancy spun the book around. On the page there were three such creatures. The sphinx, the chimera, and the manticore.
“My bet is on one of these,” she said curtly, standing up. “Now that you know what you’re looking for, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own research to do.”
Eddie and Wayne just exchanged eye rolls before Eddie got up and pulled out books on the beasts, splitting the pile in half and handing a stack to Wayne.
Nancy pulled out this huge portfolio and it landed on the table with a horrid thud, sending up a cloud of dust.
Eddie waved the air in front of his face, not that it would make him cough or irritate his eyes since becoming a vampire, but it was annoyance nonetheless.
“Don’t they have those things on microfiche?” he asked with a glare. They were there first and she was acting like they were bothering her.
Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I want to see the originals.”
It took everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes back at her and just buried his head into the research he was doing. He began jotting down things about the chimera that might fit the beast they were looking for.
Wayne had only gotten through two chapters of the sphinx when he shook his head.
“Not a sphinx,” he said gruffly. “They have far too many rules to want to ally with at cat sìth for anything short of an all out war between the fae.”
Eddie nodded, he had ruled them out based on DND rules, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Miss Snooty. He handed Wayne all the books he had on the manticore, his mind on the task in front of him.
Tat, tat, tat...
His pen flicked back and forth in his fingers as read about chimeras. There were different kinds but always a serpent tail, a feline body, and a capra head. The freaky thing breathed honest to god fire.
He thought about the beast that attacked Patrick, the one that Steve had apparently fought off by himself.
Neither of the two men had any indication that they had burn marks on them. Granted it was harder to tell with Steve. The transformation healed most wounds, going either direction. From wolf to human and vice versa.
Tat, tat, tat...
He looked up to see an exchange between Nancy and Wayne. She looked murderous, but Wayne’s steely glare kept her mouth shut. His glance darted back and forth between the two of them in confusion.
“His tapping is driving me crazy,” she finally hissed.
Wayne licked his lips nice and slow and leveled her with a look that could have curdled three generations cows’ of milk.
“And we were here first,” he said coldly. “You are here on a hunch. And probably a damn good one, but if we don’t find out what is stalking the streets of Hawkins, one of the pups could be next, so you will show him the respect you would give me.”
Her jaw that had been hanging open slammed shut.
Eddie snorted and tapped again just to annoy her. Nancy glared at him.
“She doesn’t respect you is the problem, Uncle Wayne. It’s why she wouldn’t let you watch their moon night. Something that if had been allowed wouldn’t have resulted in a brand new werewolf, the ire of the coven, and rampaging beast on the loose, because you would have been there to help Steve take it out.”
Wayne’s glare turned to ice. “Is that so?”
Nancy gulped. Hard. For all Wayne Munson’s down to earth looks and speech she had forgotten that he was a centuries old being with more experience in his left pinkie than she did in all her days on this earth.
She knew she didn’t have a real leg to stand on when she threatened Steve about either of these two vampires watching over her pack, but knew that he would go along with her because he didn���t understand pack pecking order.
But she held her chin high. “I have no reason to trust any vampire, but especially not a Bitten.”
“Do you know what happens when a vampire is turned?” Wayne asked her darkly.
“I know the technical aspects of it,” she replied haughtily. “But as I am not a vampire, I can only speak metaphorically.”
Again Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not bitten anything. You’ve got werewolf blood in you going back generations on both sides. Your privilege is showing, princess.”
“It’s not like werewolf biting either,” Wayne said ignoring them both. “Steve asked Patrick permission to bite him. It didn’t always used to be that way, but it’s so ingrained in werewolf society that they aren’t aware that they can turn a person into a wolf, provided that person is an alpha. But it’s a soft process. A healing one.”
Nancy frowned, chewing on her lip. “And vampire turning isn’t? I thought Steve asked Billy why he didn’t heal Patrick.”
Wayne nodded. “Because vampire turning requires blood to be exchanged. To just heal Patrick all it would have taken is for Billy to drink his blood. The venom in their saliva has healing properties so that their victims don’t go tattling to everyone and anyone they’d been bit.”
“So even if Billy had merely tried to heal Patrick and get his allegiance in exchange for his life, he still would have sprang the trap set for him?” she asked.
Eddie nodded. “Whoever is pulling the strings on this whole thing knows a lot about vampires, just not enough about Billy.”
Wayne hummed his agreement. “This person is wily and cunning, but their plans keep getting foiled by Steve, so unless you want your alpha dead, you’ll let us work in peace.”
Nancy looked down at the folio in front of her a moment before speaking. “What’s so different about a vampire turning over a werewolf one?”
Wayne turned to Eddie. “You’ve gone through it more recently than I have. You can tell her if you want, but I won’t make you.”
Eddie set his jaw. “It’s like a fire consuming you. Burning out your very blood, your very breath. It literally kills you. That’s why born vampires look down on us, because we’re not living. We will never live again. But unlike Wayne, I chose this willingly. Not because I was going to die anyway. Which is how it usually goes. They turn you and then turn you loose.”
She blanched and her eyes went wide. “Why would they do that?”
“Because, Miss Wheeler,” Wayne said fiercely, “because they got too careless and needed to make a quick getaway. Turn a person into a vampire, send the poor crazed bastard out on the populous, and watch the destruction from afar.”
“‘Cause, if the town’s folk are chasing a rampaging beast,” Eddie sneered, “then they won’t look too closely at the lord who left in the middle of the night.”
Nancy could barely breathe. “That’s awful. Why would anyone willing chose to go through all that pain and torment?”
“Because I would rather die,” Eddie said solemnly, “and going through the agonies of undeath than lose the one person in my life who gave a damn for longer than my use to them.”
She looked between them both and then nodded. She went back to her work without further comment or complaint.
Eddie waited a few more moments to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else. Then he turned to Wayne. “It’s not a chimera, either. It’s got to be a manticore.”
Wayne looked down at his pile of books, his expression ashen.
“May god save us all.”
~
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20
1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog
2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi
3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare
5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv
6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec
7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts
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raviollies · 9 months ago
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Been a while since I did a summary so here's one of the later sessions (this one written by me muhaha)
So for a couple weeks now the party has found a shapeshifter village to stay in while Arameia gets her Character Moment by bonding with the other werewolves and seeing what they can be like (and hey maybe it's not as bad of a curse as she thinks)
If anyone remembers, a WHILE ago, Arameia broke Raha's glaive when in werewolf form, so it was time to finally fix it up. So my session begins with the party going to a blacksmith that's out of the village, few miles out, a recluse. He is said to be a master and proficient in Elven style of blacksmithing - when they find the forge all the windows are closed, were it not for the smoke from the chimney it would look abandonded.
At first the half-elf blacksmith Greiolf refused entry, but upon hearing that it was for an Elven weapon, reluctantly he let them in. Inside the house is dark, and he forced the party to kinda shuffle in instead of opening the door fully (hint hint).
While inspecting the weapons, by accident, another person reveals themselves in the house, his adoptive daughter, a (seemingly) half-elf woman named Alphienne. The gang is asked to gather the materials necessary to do the repairs (Specific type of wood for Raha's glaive as an example), but since it's late they're welcome to stay for dinner.
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During the dinner, the gang really bonds with the small family. Arameia especially, since she herself has an adoptive father, who she left in order to protect from herself. She really likes this old man. Alphienne having lost her parents in the war, and Greiolf being an ex soldier, preferring to keep to himself. He walks with a limp from a recent injury so he requests the party to gather water from a near by well and firewood in the morning. Oddly during the dinner, Alphienne does not seem to eat much, if at all. She cleans up the plates with shaky hands before leaving to wash them followed by Arameia - who to test a suspicion, cuts her hand. Alphienne turned away but did not do anything else, leaving Arameia to shrug and walk back.
After spending the night in the wagon, the gang did as requested, walking to get water and firewood, but seeing a nearby stream, decided to also catch some fish so the family had some fresh food (Raha gathering things like mushrooms and herbs instead). On their way back, they noticed the smoke was no coming from the chimney, and when they stepped in the forge was quiet...empty, and bloody. The repaired weapons lay on the table, but no sign of either of the two occupants.
Following the trail of bloody footprints and handprints, they come upon a grisly scene. Greiolf, disemboweled and Alphienne, a vampire spawn, sitting empty before his body, her whole body stained with blood. It's not hard to deduce that she had murdered him in her hunger. She explains shakily, that she hasn't eaten in several days, or maybe even over a week (Vampires that live off animal blood need nigh daily feeding), that she has no idea how to hunt, and that Greiolf's injury prevented him from hunting too. That the blood from yesterday, made her lose it, made her focus on her hunger, remembering the taste of it.
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So the dilemma set over the party: to spare her and leave, or to punish her for what she has done. Raha and Blythe chose to leave, they saw it as an act of survival. If they are paid to hunt her later, they will, but they are not arbiters of morality to be carrying out a sentence for her.
Lorelai did not wish to leave, forced to confront her possible future, and her past, having also accidently slaughtered her father. She wanted her gone, to prove that she isn't a wild animal and can control herself unlike this spawn.
Arameia wanted to slay her for her own feelings, having seen Greiolf as similar to her own father, it was hard not to imagine him there instead, broken and slain, perhaps even by her hand had she stayed. She wished to punish her for taking away such a person. But ultimately, she decided to not pursue further bloodshed.
Eirwen also wanted to do something, in her eyes leaving her behind puts innocent people at risk, that she will feed on others, and more blood will be spilled, but she too was unwilling to stain her own hands to carry out this kill.
They ended up leaving, the forge now empty sans it's final lonely occupant. In the inn, it was a heavy conversation, everyone sharing their thoughts and perspective. That they left a dangerous beast, that will hunt others - but if you do not wish her to hunt, then kill her, but you cannot. That is being a spawn a death sentence should you be untrained in combat? What qualifies as someone 'innocent'? After all they slay many a person on their travels.
Lorelai revealed the reason she is traveling, the past with her father to the party, saying that she cannot pass judgement on her ultimately, despite her feelings, since she is the same.
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And so the two beasts and the cleric are at impasse of what they shall do should the harrowing day for their own test come.
Some fun DM things I hid throughout the game for funsies:
Greiolf being a soldier and Alphienne having lost her parents to war was intentional, as it is left ambiguous as to what side he was on, and how much he had participated in that. It is implied he took her in out of guilt
The bloodied forge and the victims showed no signs of struggle. There was no blood under Greiolfs fingernails, and Alphienne bared no injuries.
The fishing trip was meant to instill a feeling of guilt - if they had come earlier would this have been prevented? In truth yes and no. Sure they could have held this off for another day, but what about tomorrow? Or next week? This was a tragedy that was in motion long before they came
Likewise, whether or not Arameia's cut actually played a role in causing the incident in a domino effect is also left up to interpretation.
Despite being Half-Elf, throughout the dinner Greiolf kept referring to Elven blacksmiths as 'they' rather than 'we' - when pointed out by Eirwen he shrugged and just said he didn't feel as though he belonged with them. This was a reflection of an attitude Raha also encountered.
This attitude was also the reason he wished to work on Elven weapons, as he rarely got an opportunity, as a Half-Elf.
Closed windows, the door opening aside, Alphienne was portrayed as being extremely jittery, stumbling over her words, un-coordinated and looking fatigued - signs that she was starving.
Killing Alphienne would have actually not caused any difference or change, as she leaves after this.
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sugar-phoenix · 5 months ago
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unfinished rought unedited short story about vampires
alright so the winning vote out of the polls was "yes" so I'm deciding to post my unfinished short story draft here because I'm too impatient to wait until i finish it to post it
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My new roommate is a vampire.
How do I know this? Simple.
Johnny Robert-Mulligan told me, about a week after he moved in.
“Now you seem like a respectable man, Daniel, so I'll tell you straight up: I'm a vampire.”
I nodded, thinking that he was joking or high or something.
“I will be having blood packets delivered to me each week. You need not make dinner for two. And don't invite your friends over on nights of full moons unless you want them to be sucked dry.”
We stared at each other for a moment. It was then that I realized that he was being completely serious. And then, he laughed, quite loudly, which scared the wits out of me.
“I'm just kidding, of course,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh, thank God. I thought you were actually a vampire there for a moment.”
“No I am, I am a vampire. I was joking about the full moon thing. That's a werewolf thing, not a vampire thing.”
I only stared at him in shock again.
“Oh, don't tell me you believe in werewolves? Those are completely made up.”
“Well,” I responded, “until five minutes ago I didn't think of the possibility of either vampires or werewolves being real.”
And thus began our odd friendship, of which I learned a great deal about vampires. As it turned out, vampires were a lot less untouchable than I had previously thought.
“Is it true that vampires die from a stake to the heart?” I asked one lazy Sunday afternoon, while we were watching the game. The ads were rolling, and I was eager to take this chance to ask my new roommate more about himself.
“Technically speaking, a stake to the heart could kill anything. You could also kill me by stabbing me, shooting me, running me over, throwing me off a cliff,” Johnny proceeded to count off his fingers. “Anything that would kill you would kill me.”
“Oh, I see. I guess that makes sense.”
“We're not immortal either,” he added, taking a sip out of his Coke can. Although soda did nothing for him in terms of sugar intake or energy, he told me that he had gotten quite hooked on the taste.
“You aren't?”
“No, we're just extremely long lived. I think my great grandfather lived for almost 600 years.”
I let that sink in.
“How old are you, Johnny?”
“I think I'm turning 197 this year.”
I turned to look at him.
“That would mean you've lived through both of the World Wars.”
“Oh yes, I did. I don't remember anything though, I was too young. You see, vampires only reach adulthood at around 150 years of age.” He took another sip of his soda. “You know, come to think of it, my parents might have stolen blood from the opposing sides to keep us fed. I think there was a movement or something. ‘Make The Nazis Paler’ and all that.”
“I see.”
And then the ad roll finished, and we were back to watching the game.
 I neglected to mention that Johnny was roommates with me because we were both enrolled in a local college. I was undertaking my bachelor’s in graphic design, which meant that I was more often than not buried under design projects, the likes of which could run from posters to redesigning entire corporations. Thusly, I would often have myself shut in my room during the busier weeks, specifically midterms and finals.
Johnny told me that he hadn’t decided what his major was, and that he was simply experiencing what college was like. He doubted that he’d have a use for it, to which he told me his mother disagreed, since he would at least need to take a job of some sort and make money, but what was the use if it was only going to last him so long and in about 300 years it would probably become obsolete?
I only nodded and hummed to his explanation. I didn’t quite like thinking about these things. Everything seemed so impermanent when you were a vampire, and as a relatively short-lived human, it was creepy to think about.
Thankfully, Johnny got along quite well with my friends. He didn’t have any friends of his own, which I thought was strange, but it’s possible that he drove them away with his casual talk of things that happened long ago. If you didn’t know he was a vampire you’d probably think he was a freakish nerd of some sort. But because Johnny was my roommate, and because he got along with my friends, they were apt to invite him along with me whenever they had parties.
It was at one of these house parties that Johnny met Cynthia. She was a psych student, and she often twirled her hair around her finger like as if she could will it to curl just by doing so. She always had one or two girlfriends around that she talked to, and rarely did she talk to anyone outside of them. But for whatever reason, she caught Johnny’s eye.
“I think she’s a vampire,” he said to me one day, as I was trying to work with the pressure-cooker in our kitchen.
“Yeah?”  The contraption hissed steam at me, and I prayed it wouldn’t take my eye out. “What gave you that idea?”
“I think—no, I know she’s a vampire. She’s got that quality about her.”
“What quality?”
“Vampire quality. You know, we can sense each other out.”
“I see.” I didn’t particularly believe him, but I wasn’t going to say that either. What do I know, perhaps vampires did have a sixth sense for each other, and perhaps this was what was happening, rather than my initial theory that Johnny had a big fat crush on Cynthia and was secretly hoping she was just like him. Of course, I kept all this to myself.
“Go and speak to her then,” I said.
“What? No. Women must be approached carefully, Daniel, otherwise you risk spooking them away.”
“You speak as though they’re skittish deer. I think you’re just scared of talking to her.”
“Scared? No. I’m simply being strategic.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Strategic, scared. Either way, you haven’t talked to her yet.”
“I will talk to her. Soon. Next chance I get. I plan on it.” I nodded, gingerly lifting the lid of the pressure cooker to reveal the pasta and sauce within.
divider by cafekitsune!
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k-kizkhalifa · 1 month ago
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oh have an excerpt from a fic i am working on bc i really loved this scene. ugh. draco being an adult. harry being a little nervous and uncomfortable. (probably posting the first part later today).
bro "kizinold anon" said the word: pink, and i said: lets write a WHOLE FKN FIC.
anyway, here is this:
Harry walked back down the hallway, thirty minutes later to find his whole den a mess. Draco, with his sleeves rolled up, was standing at the coffee table that he cleared off by quite literally just swiping everything to a pile on the floor, with Harry’s cup of coffee in hand  taking a drink. 
“What the fuck is this?” 
“Piles, organization, whatever you want to call it,” Draco answered after he swallowed, “why haven’t you told anyone about this?” 
“You all are so busy,” Harry shrugged, as he looked down at the coffee table. He eyes drug over Draco’s neat handwriting, Dementor Attacks. Werewolves Missing. Trolls Traveling. A piece of parchment sat above all else that read: North. 
“You think it is nothing?” 
“I plan on doing some asking around,” Harry lifted a shoulder, not meeting Draco’s look, “I’ll take care of it.” 
Draco frowned, “you know we’re all pretty capable wizards, though I do question that Boot, bloke, sometimes.” 
Harry chuckled, “why do you question Boot?” 
“He’s…” Draco lifted a slender shoulder, smiling, “not always friendly, let’s say.” 
“What?” 
Draco shrugged, “anyway, the point I’m trying to make, Potter. Is that you have a pretty capable team. Oh, Creevy is a shit show too.” He sighed, “you have about four of us, in office at all times, that are pretty damn good at what we do.” Draco couldn't really speak on the other team that they rotated at Azkaban with.
Harry smiled, “I know you all are good at what you do, that’s why I get to focus on these things.” 
“Is this about obligations outside the Ministry?” 
Harry sighed, and reached out taking his coffee mug from Draco, before he took his own drink and handed it back, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Everyone has their lives, they deserve to be able to go home and live them.” 
“I feel, just speaking out of hand here, Potter, but that means you get to live life outside of the Ministry, as well.” 
“I do,” Harry looked down at the table again, “so, it’s a lot of movement.” 
“It is,” Draco answered, “felt anything in that scar of yours, lately?” 
“Uhm, no.” Harry rubbed at the scar at the mention of it, “as far as I know, even if it was something to do with Voldemort, whatever part of him was inside of me is dead now. Right? Like that’s why I’m standing here, talking to you, Draco.” 
“Right, of course.” Draco nodded, “no, I haven’t felt anything either.” 
“I wasn't going to ask.” Harry said quickly, his eyes still trained on the papers, “I don’t imagine it’s Voldemort. I would like to think I managed that.” 
Draco chuckled, rolling his eyes, “right, of course.” He moved around Harry’s den, taking another drink of the coffee, as he sat on the edge of the armchair with a tired sigh. “Didn’t Weasley and Boot just take down that small group?” 
“A few weeks ago,” Harry nodded, his eyes drawn to the pink bag. He hated the fact he thought it, again. The thought of Draco Malfoy being the one to wear that pink lingerie set. He turned, forcing himself to look at the papers and willing his erection to just go away. “Why?” 
“Did they say anything? About things like this?” 
“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat and walked over to his briefcase, finding the report and pulling it out. He looked down at it, willing himself to just focus on reading it and not on the fact Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be wearing the pink lingerie set, but that his girlfriend would, and there wasn’t anything Harry could do about it. 
“Well?” 
Harry jumped, before shaking his head, “uh, sorry, Ron’s handwriting….” He sat the report on his desk, “looks like it was just a group of kids thinking about doing black market trades.” 
“Oh,” Draco frowned, “I’m sure they were beaten all to hell.” He added, quietly, finishing the coffee. 
Harry glanced over at the word choice, “what did ya mean Boot wasn’t always friendly?” 
“He’s a little heavy handed,” Draco lifted a shoulder, “okay, so, these reports have started coming in over the last few weeks, right?” 
“Yes, just a bit now.” Harry moved, sitting on the couch opposite Draco, watching the blonde think as he tried to work through it all. 
“What’s North? Besides cold?” His lips turned down, his eyes closed, and then he stood up and looked around. Harry watched him, confused, as the blonde seemed to make himself comfortable with the layout of Harry’s house. He grabbed the coffee mug, walked through the living room, and into the kitchen. Harry turned to watch him, wondering if Draco was like this everywhere he went. He heard him pouring himself another coffee, “cream?” He called, but before Harry could answer he heard the ice box open. 
Harry sat back, on the couch, and then Draco was next to him holding out a warm mug of coffee, just the way it had been. Harry noticed it was a new mug, Draco keeping the one he had been drinking out of. The one, really, Harry had been using before Draco appeared on his doorstep. 
“Azkaban,” Draco said quietly, moving to sit next to Harry, rather than across from him. “But, what is on the island these creatures could want?” He frowned, “aside from the prison?” 
Harry took a drink, trying not to look at the blonde who was making himself very comfortable. He frowned as the words settled around him. “I mean it is very well guarded.” 
Draco nodded, “I’m aware. Have you been out there lately?”
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specialagentlokitty · 10 months ago
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Giles x reader - don’t go
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Part three:
Giles was marking off the days you had been gone, keeping track of them.
He had tried reaching out to your through spell Willow had used to contact you the last time, but you weren’t in one spot.
He would appear just in time to see your wolf form running through the trees.
Weeks were turning into months, and there was no word from you.
“I’m sure she’s okay Giles.” Tara smiled.
“Yes, I’m sure she hasn’t been hunted and killed yet.”
Everybody glared at Anya before turning back to Giles who was stood behind the counter of his shop reading your letter again.
“I feel she should have been back by now.” He said.
“I mean she said she needed time to think… maybe she’s just somewhere.. you know.. thinking..” willow smiled.
Giles smiled a little back, and folded the letter up, putting it back in his pocket and walked over to help them with their new demon problem.
Your paws slammed though the water, and you slid to a halt as you looked around the forest.
You had dealt with the e rouges over a month ago, now you were wondering, trying to figure out what you were doing.
You were near the town you had left, when you dealt with the wolves you had found your way back there just wondering the edges.
You carried on wondering again, making your way to a deeper part of the stream and you crouched down to look at the reflection of yourself.
Your amber eyes beamed back and you huffed a little as you stretched.
You wanted a peaceful life, one where you didn’t have to keep running from everything, where you weren’t scared.
You wanted to be human, things were easier for them, less worry about hunters and werewolves and all that sort of stuff.
But at the same time, you loved this. The wolf, the wild, the power you had and everything that made your stand out.
Maybe that’s why you were running.
You began your wondering once more, you made your way towards the town, turning back to your human form.
You wondered through the streets, hands in your pockets and you paused, not really sure where to go.
Your feet seemed to lead the way, and you to where they wanted to go, and you stood outside of the magic box looking in.
They all seemed to be having fun, and you smiled a little bit.
You turned around and began to wonder once more, going to find somewhere to get some actual good food and a hot drink, something you had missed.
Sitting down, you nibbles on your fries as you stared at the table deep in thought.
You felt somebody tackle you and you yelled in surprise, punching them in the face.
“Ow! (Y/N)!”
“Oh shit, sorry Xander!”
He laughed a little, sitting opposite you, Anya, Tara, Willow and Buffy all crowded you with their own food.
“How long have you been back? Where did you go?” Anya asked.
“Yeah why did you come see us?!” Willow pouted.
You laughed, shaking your head at them and picked up another couple of fries to eat.
“I just got back today, I was just wondering I suppose.”
They carried on barraging you with questions, and you answered them, sometimes avoiding telling them the real answer.
After a few hours they all left aside from Buffy, she wondered the streets with you.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home?” You asked.
“I’ve got to patrol soon, but can I uh.. can I ask you something? And get like a real answer?”
You glanced at her.
“Of course.”
Buffy stopped walking, sitting down on a bench so you did the same thing.
“How long have you really been back?”
You sighed, looking down at your hands.
“About a month if I had to guess, I’m not too sure. I’ve been at the edge of town.”
She nodded her head.
“Why didn’t you come back?”
You leant back, tilting your head back to look at the stars that were barely visible.
“I.. I’m not sure really… I just..”
Sitting yourself up you turned your head to her.
“This may seem weird, coming from well, someone who’s in their 30s, but have you ever felt so conflicted about something all you want to do is runway?”
“Well, I actually did runaway once, so yeah. I do.”
You went quiet.
“You know he waits for you, right?”
You looked down at your hands again.
“Buffy.. what if I.. what if I’m not the right person for Rupert. I mean he’s a human, I’m a werewolf, what if he gets hurt or realises that I’m a threat or something?”
“Are you like having a midlife crisis? Because vampires and demons I can deal with but not this.”
You laughed, grinning a little at her.
“No! I’m not having a midlife crisis! I just.. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
She jumped up and pointed at you.
“Oh my god you’re having a midlife crisis!”
You swatted her hand away, and stood up.
“No I’m not!”
“You totally are! Oh my god! And Giles is the reason!”
She seemed to think about what she had said and gave you a disgusted look.
“Ew that’s gross, he’s old.”
“What the hell does that make me?”
“Not as old?” She grinned sheepishly.
You laughed softly, shaking your head at her and you smiled, putting your hands into your pockets.
Buffy smiled back, and she crossed her arms.
“Just go and see him. Talk to him.”
“I don’t think I can that’s the point, I get all nervous and scared and I’ve never really thought about anything other than you know? Werewolf stuff.”
“(Y/N), he keeps a stupid little calendar book and he marks off the days you’ve been gone, he carries that latter you gave him everywhere and when he hears a dog howl he gets all excited hoping it’s you.”
You furrowed your brows a little.
“He is madly in love with you, just go see him. Go talk to him, I mean he’s Giles, he’s nothing but understanding.”
“He has to be since he’s the watcher of a heathen like you.”
“Hey! I’m trying to be helpful here!”
You grinned a little.
“Get your werewolf ass out of here and find him.”
You raised your hands.
“Alright, okay I’m going. I’m going. Safe hunting.”
“Good luck!”
You left, and wondered the streets again, thinking about the conversation you had just had.
It had given you some perspective at least, but you were still slightly conflicted.
Then you stopped, looking at the sweater you wearing and smiled a little to yourself.
The little reminder of Giles you had stolen when you had run off.
You made your way back to the shop to see it was closed, and you knocked on the door, waiting for a response.
When one didn’t come, you began to wonder away, and you made your way towards his house.
You had missed this, the weird town teeming with supernatural. The people. Your weird band of misfits that you seemed to have adopted as your own family.
But most importantly you missed Giles.
While you were running around in the wild hunting down the people who had hurt him.
It made you realise you couldn’t picture a future without the man in it, he had just stumbled unto your life literally with him walking into you while he was reading.
Since then he was stuck on your mind, and your fates intertwined together, getting all tangled and twisted.
You didn’t want a life without him, no amount of running around freely, no amount of werewolf perks or anything would change that.
Everything was clear now.
Your walk started slow, then turned into a jog which turned into an all out sprint.
You jumped on to cars to cross the street, jumping on to someone’s roof, you began using that as a way to get there faster.
And it was.
You jumped down at his door and you knocked a few times, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
He didn’t answer fast enough so you tried the handle, finding it unlocked you walked in and he poked his was walking down the stairs.
“You know leaving your door unlocked isn’t safe, any werewolf could just walk in.”
Giles stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared at you, and you smiled sheepishly.
“(Y/N)… you.. when..?”
Giles walked over, taking your face between his hands and he crashed his lips on to yours,
You grabbed his shirt, leaning up into the kiss, pulling him closer.
Pulled yourself away and he smiled softly as you.
“You came back…”
“I said I would, right?” You asked softly.
Laughing slightly, Giles nodded his head, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he moved away.
“Though word of advise, you do have a smell.”
You slapped his arm and moved away.
“Sorry Rupert showers aren’t actually common in the forests. Though I really want a shower so I’m taking yours then we can talk.”
“I’ll get you some clothes.”
You followed Giles upstairs and he got your sweater for you and some sweatpants, handing them over and you wondered to the shower.
You got out and made your way back down the stairs, dropping yourself on to the couch.
“I’ve missed couches and showers.”
Giles chuckled, and you turned around to look at him in the kitchen.
“Well, it’s good to see you’ve missed the important things.”
You grinned at him.
Giles looked at you, offering you a small smile before he looked away and his smile fell.
You jumped over the couch, walking into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway.
“Rupert?”
“Why did you run away…?”
You sighed, turning your gaze away to the floor instead.
“To be completely honest, I was scared, I was confused.”
Giles turned to look at you.
“About what?”
“About everything.. a.. about us..”
You walked over to the counter and jumped on it, swinging looking at your hands.
“My whole life I’ve always been taught that my whole life was to run a pack, rule over them, and I didn’t want that, so I passed the role on. Because I did that people got hurt, then hunters came here and they hurt you all, then there’s.. there’s you..”
“Me?”
“You make me feel normal, cared for. I’ve never had something… someone like you I guess.”
Giles turned fully around to look at you, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You are my everything, you’re my light in the dark, you’re the hand that guides me. I left and all I could think about was running back here, running back to you. I was scared about the future, my future, but I realised I can’t tell what it’ll hold, but I know I want you in it.”
You sighed again.
“It’s clear, I am meant to be wherever you are, I want to be wherever you are Rupert. And I promise I’ll always come running back to you. I want a future with you… if you want that…”
Giles took your hands in his and you looked up at him.
He wore a gentle smile, and he gave your hands a gentle squeeze.
“I want you in it, every hour and every minute.” He whispered.
“Really?”
“You gave me no choice but to love you my dear…”
He leant down, pressing his forehead against yours, you could feel his breath on your lips.
You leant up, connecting them and he smiled into it.
It was a gentle kiss, soft, and warm, pouring everything from the months you were gone into it.
When he pulled away you frowned, resting your head in his chest instead making him chuckle.
He placed his hand on the back of your head, gently messaging your scalp, and you wrapped your arms around his torso.
“So, is there anything werewolf wise I should know?”
You looked up at him a little confused.
“Like what?”
“Well, how tall are you like that? Triggers? Do you control it? That sort of stuff.”
You hummed a little, patting his chest to him him move back and you jumped down, walking into the living room.
“This might be easier outside.”
So you took him out there and you stood on the steps, with a leap you jumped and changed, paws hitting the ground and Giles took a step back.
You stretched, and stood up, wondering over to him, eyes connecting with his.
“Well.. I uh.. I would safely say large..”
He reached out and hesitated.
“May I?”
You sat down, letting him place his hand on your head, smoothing his hand over your hair and you locked eyes with him.
He saw your tail swish a little bit which made him chuckle.
“May you turn back?”
You moved away, changing back and you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“Well I can’t say I have ever uh.. ever had a relationship with a werewolf before.”
“There’s always a first try?” You grinned.
“Well I’m glad, now come inside it’s cold and I.. I understand you may not get cold but well.. it’s cold.”
Giles lead you back inside and you sat down on the couch with him next to you, turning on the tv and he picked up a book while you flicked through the channels.
You noticed him shiver and you shuffled over, moving his arm so you could tuck yourself into his side and he wrapped his arm around your waist.
He looked away from his book at you.
“Are you cold?” He asked.
You looked up.
“No, but you are.”
“What..? How did you know?”
“I just know these things.”
You yawned, and stretched yourself out, and he adjusted himself so you could lay on his chest, and he covered the pair of you with a blanket.
Giles set his book aside, placing a hand on your back.
“(Y/N)?”
You hummed a little.
“You.. you won’t just runaway again will you?”
“No, unfortunately for you.”
He chuckled, running a hand up and down your back.
“Well, I suppose I consider myself rather fortunate then.”
He tightened his hold on you and you smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat.
This was all you had ever wanted, something exactly like this and you didn’t want to run away from it again.
You felt safe, and loved, and for once you had somebody to call your own, somebody who really loved you for you.
And when he planted a gentle kiss to your head all you could do was beam a little bit more.
You tucked your head under his chin, and you closed your eyes while he kicked his legs on to the couch, resting his chin on your head as he did the same thing.
Right now was all that mattered, you in his arms, not going anywhere anytime soon
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skylermadness · 1 year ago
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Hunter's Tales I: Bitten (Human TF/MC/AP/WG)
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(Original Date of Upload: October 31, 2022)
Original Description:
Happy Halloween! I admittedly don't care a lot about this holiday. Personally I prefer the post-Halloween candy sales. But I do care enough to write something silly to commemorate the occasion! A few weeks ago someone asked if I liked werewolves or vampires more. Personally, I might like werewolves a bit more. I say this because I actually wrote this story out as part of a planned series I want to do featuring Argent and various monster hunting failures he endures. It likely won't be a very long series, nor a frequently updated one, but it's one I've been thinking of writing for a while now. Especially since I loved the idea of a werewolf TF but you're changing into the human form rather than the wolf one. Also just for everyone's information, fight scenes are fucking ass to write. I still don't think I did it that well, but I tried. Anyway, I hope people like this one! It is a bit different from my normal works.
Mission No° 479: October 31, 20XX
Target Name: Roland Forrester
Target Species: Lycanthrope
Hit Orderer: [REDACTED]
Reason for Hit: [REDACTED]
Agent On-Call: Agent No° 47 ~ Argent Chandler
Status of Mission: Unfulfilled
                                        ----------------------------------------------------------
   The night is moonless.
   In the dead of this midnight a boot stamps on the ground of a muddy runway. Said runway is located within the bowels of a sprawling woodland. With the exception of the sounds of bootclad feet hitting mud, it is quiet. 
   Argent Chandler takes a deep breath as his eyes scan the site that lays in front of him. To a normal person they'd see a wooden cabin. Secluded and off the grid, in the middle of nature for none to disturb. With the exception of some creepy vibe to it, it seemed unsuspect. 
   Argent exhaled, nodding. This was the right place.
   His trenchcoat swished behind him as he continued his trek down the runaway. Judging by the small pickup truck nearby he could tell his target was obviously located in this place. Although that wouldn't be very easy to tell by the fact that any lighting inside the cabin seemed inactive.
   His trek easily shifted into a saunter once his now muddy boots reached the steps of the cabin. Each one creaked beneath his weight. Although at this point stealth was foregone a long time ago. Argent wasn't the kind of hunter that dealt in stealth, no. Especially since all his arsenal was silver. The creature within this dwelling likely smelled him before he was in a ten foot radius of this place.
   It doesn't matter though. It never does. He always gets the job done and has been since employment. There's a reason he's considered the best hunter within his Guild.
   Atop the stairs, he pulls out his gun and begins to twirl it in his hand. What would the number be now? Fourty? Forty five? At least half of those missions were probably some kind of therianthrope. 
   Wood continues to creak beneath him, Argent walking up to the door. The hunter stops carelessly twirling his weapon and extends his free hand to grasp the doorknob. After a cursory jiggle he finds it to be unlocked. With a nod, he confirms this to be a trap of some kind. Predictable.
   Doesn't stop him from kicking the door open anyway, following it up by a gunshot to the ground in front of him.
   "Let's see how your fragile ears handle that…" he whispers with a smirk on his face.
   The cabin interior was dark, but was actually pretty nice looking. He presumed himself to be in the living room, considering the furnishment was a couch of some kind. His original perceptions of the place being off the grid was disregarded at the sight of an old-fashioned box TV cushioned in the corner of the room, but at this point he didn't really care. None of these creatures worked in covertness now, did they?
   Another floorboard creaks, and mud begins to track into the place as he casually walks around. He holds an arm up, his gun in hand as he starts twirling it again. His other hand moves to the inside of his trenchcoat and slowly positions itself to one of his many daggers. There seems to be two major rooms he could enter. Left and right.
   His gaze slowly moves rightward, and he is greeted with the sight of two beads of glowing yellow. No doubt the eyes of the very creature he came here to kill. But his ears then catch a sound. Wood creaking from the leftward room instead. Smiling, he turns around to locate the source. The place was small, there couldn't be any way for anything in here to hide efficiently.
   He begins to walk to the room the sound was made in, his own steps being an obvious alert of his presence. "No use hiding, freak," he says aloud, voice filled with malice. Animosity. "We both know we're in here, so why don't you come out and…" 
   He stops twirling his gun right when it's upward and pulls the trigger, firing another bullet. He then finishes off his sentence with a smirk. "...play."
   He doesn't get a response at first, silence filling the area in the seconds after he fired his second round. Face lacking all emotion now he continues to stand at the room's threshold. Cold, calculating. 
   Frontward attack, dagger thrust. Left arm disabled, forgo gun and try to utilize the other. Both arms disabled, go for a groin kick. Multiple plans fire off in his head as he awaits his prey.
   What he didn't expect was the light in the room in front of him to turn on, revealing the room to be a kitchen. No one was visible within it for a couple moments, but then the sound of creaking wood pierced the air again.
   "I really need to get these things replaced!" a second voice says casually, the person whom it belongs to walking into view on the other side of the threshold.
   The being stood in front of Argent, smiling. The man looked to be in his mid thirties; rectangular face, scratchy beard, faint etchings of age beginning to crawl in his face. His hair was well kept with two lupine ears poking out of it. He also lacked a shirt, giving his musculature and hirsuteness visibility. Most of his hair, both head and body, was bordering between black and dark grey, although this was indubitably not because of age. The only clothing he wore was a baggy looking leather jacket and a torn pair of jeans. His tail swished behind his legs calmly. He was also barefoot as well.
   Argent's first reaction was to reposition his gun to point at the man. Smirking, he's the first to engage. "I'm taking it you're Roland Forrester."
   Roland nods, extending a hand and placing a finger on the bottom of the gun's barrel. "It seems you caught me red handed, Argent."
   In an instant a simple finger quickly switches to the man's hand cupping the gun's barrel, Roland using his supernatural strength to squeeze it into uselessness. He grinned, baring his sharp teeth and growling. His irises began to glow a bright gold. "So, I heard you wanted to play."
   Argent's mouth twists into a manic grin. He unhands the gun and begins to step back. "I see you're one of those kinds of fleabags…" He then moves the hand downwards and into his trenchcoat, grasping a second gun. "This'll be fun!"
   And in that very instance, a fight breaks out between the two.
   Argent is the first to break linearity as he repositions himself away from the front of the kitchen's threshold. Pouncing out the threshold was Roland, having shifted to wolf form in the past few seconds. Fangs bared, the creature turned its head to glare at Argent, its eyes filled with aggression.
   It proceeds to pounce and Argent quickly moves out the way causing it to bang its head on the couch. As the wolf begins to reorientate itself, the hunter starts formulating a plan.
   Six bullets, he needs to be sure he shoots to kill.
   Room size is definitely an advantage. Perhaps he could… DAMN-
   Caught off guard, Argent is pinned down by the lycanthrope. For a few seconds it growls, but Argent cuts it off by discharging his weapon. Its strength wavers for a moment as the noise of the firearm rings in its ears allowing Argent to give it a strong kick in the gut.
   It unhands him and he rolls out from under it, quickly pushing himself upright. Stupid mistake, won't happen again.
   The wolf quickly regains its bearings, although it's still noticeably in a daze. "Could've… gone for a finger there, hunter," it growls out.
   "Could've gone for the neck as well, filth!" Argent dashes to the creature's side and pulls out a dagger from his trenchcoat, priming to hurl it into the abomination's leg. But just as he hurls it the wolf pounces out of the way and back into the kitchen, the dagger lodging itself into the floor instead. Positioning both hands on his gun, the hunter then moves back into the doorway's view and haphazardly fires into the room. 
   He misses.
   Backing up a bit, Argent jumps over the couch beside him just as the werewolf pounces towards him again. The couch doesn't last very long though as the beast takes a moment to stand upright and hurl it to the other side of the room, which wasn't exactly very far.
   Argent is quick to turn around, eyes widening as he realizes the chance he's given. He lifts the gun again and fires at the beast. Unfortunately, his trigger happy tendencies cause him to miss the chest and instead he hits the being in the shoulder.
   It's still a win though as the creature backs away and forcibly deshifts back into its human form, holding a hand to where he was shot. The smell of blood and burning flesh begins to waft through the air as well.
   "Nice aim." Roland seems to taunt Argent. In retaliation Argent fires another round, but Roland is quick to dodge. His dodge is sloppy though and he tramples into the adjacent room.
   Argent's face shifts into one of annoyance and anger. He takes his other hand off the gun and rifles through his trenchcoat, pulling out a second (and his last) dagger. He then hurls it into the wall on a whim, hoping it'd be enough to perk up whatever instincts Roland had and force them to pounce prematurely.
   It doesn't work.
   At this point Argent is already tired of this bullshit. Usually his mission is complete by now and he's heading back home to clean off the stench of beast filth from his clothing. But no, for some reason he keeps missing his killing shots.
   Two bullets. Two more chances.
   …and why hasn't Roland left that room yet?
   Argent slowly skulks into the open again, eyeing the room that Roland tripped into.
   He can see Roland's glowing lupine eyes in the dark of the room. Cockiness overtakes Argent again as he presumed this would be his chance. Shooting the damned abomination square in the head!
   Argent starts to walk towards the threshold quickly, arm outstretched and gun lined to fire directly at the werewolf's head. For once in his life he doesn't take the chance for a one-liner. He just pulls the trigger and…
   …hears the sound of shattering glass.
   "What the hell?"
   Briskly, Argent walks into the room and investigates the scene. The very figure he shot at stands motionlessly, staring at him. Mocking him wordlessly. He goes to give it a good punch, but right as his hand meets its body he finds that it phases through the entity. The light of the room then turns on and Argent finds himself eye to eye with some kind of entity of shadows.
   "...fuck," he mutters to himself. He's done for.
   "You know…" Roland's voice begins to ring from behind him. The wolf man begins sauntering over to the hunter, prying the bullet out of his shoulder as he walks and disregarding it on the ground. "I'm going to have to reorganize this place again after this whole stunt. And blood is a bitch to clean…"
   Argent turns around, but is barely given a chance to react as Roland seems to pin him in some kind of bear hug. The lycanthrope's superhuman strength constricts Argent.
   The hunter tries one final measure. If he can at least escape, he won't have lost now. Would he? His finger twitches and one final bang blasts through the air, a bullet lodging into the ground beside him.
   Roland didn't let go.
   "That trick might have worked twice but I ain't one to get fooled more than that. Even if gunfire fuckin' hurts my ears."
   Argent grunts. "Why not kill me already, bastard."
   All he gets as a response is a smile from Roland before the older man instantly shifts into wolf form and picks the hunter up. The large beast lessens his constriction on Argent just enough to move him to a more comfortable position in his arm…
   Then proceeds to throw Argent across the room.
   Stings of pain run through Argent's body as the breath is knocked out of him, the man hurled straight into a wall. In contrast, his body collapses onto something soft.
   A bed…
   He shifts around, moaning out in pain as he forces his body to turn away from the wall. He tries to get himself upright, but can only shakily push himself up from the bed.
   "I was hoping not to get any blood on the bed," Roland says, "but this will have to be how it's done unfortunately."
   Argent is barely given any time to react. In the span of a single second he's pierced with a flash of pain as his right shoulder is given a single, gaping bite. His eyes roll upward as pain surges through his body, the only sight given to him being the visage of Roland's beastly form.
   Roland is quick to disengage from the scene. Once Argent was adequately bit, the lycanthrope steps away and shifts back to his human form. "Good God the taste of blood is atrocious…"
   Argent just huffs out a breath in pain as he rolls himself off the bed. It's a pitiful twenty seconds of pain and grunting, the hunter landing front first on the floor before he shakily stood up. "A-ahhh… but it's… not the full moon…"
   "I know, but something a lot of hunters seem to neglect is how other moon phases seem to work." Roland walks towards Argent again, the hunter taking a step back. To Roland, he could smell fear from the once supposedly fearless hunter. "Magic isn't a very common practice in these parts, so I wouldn't say it's surprising your guild never taught you about it."
   "It… it was a footnote- supposedly impossible to learn and function!"
   "To the average human, yes. Most of what you call supernatural entities can learn it pretty well though. It's just not the most common practice." Roland snips his fingers and the shadow entity that stood at the adjacent wall of the room dispels revealing a shattered window.
   Argent shakily tried to walk, but found the pain he was in a little too unbearable to move properly. He begins to tip over, but his fall is swiftly stopped by Roland.
   "The wounds should shut pretty quickly."
   "W… why are…"
   "Don't think of this as some kind of 'I care about you' bullshit. Frankly, I'd have ripped you apart ages ago. But you hunters seem so easy to fool, and I was getting a little lonely out here."
   Argent's mouth hung open. "E-excuse me?"
   "Hey, magic can do a lot of shit! I thought 'why not use it and get myself a guy!' Admittedly, it took months of preparing and learning how to enact such a spell that'd be done through bitten transfer. And then there was…"
   Argent pulled away. "What the hell are you talking about??"
   Roland let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I think I'm done with this." He walks away from Argent and leans on the opposing wall, golden eyes piercing into Argent's green ones. "I'm just going to forgo any explanation. You won't remember it anyway once the transformation starts."
   At that very comment the pain in Argent's arm slowly begins to subside. Turning his head his eyes widened at the sight of his shoulder which was now visible through the rips in his clothing caused by Roland's bite. Blood was coagulating at a rapid pace, wounds quickly filling and scarring over. 
   "This… this can't be…"
   It only took a few seconds before scars dispelled and healing on the surface finished. Pain continued to fade as the bones in his shoulder realigned and healed as well, the region quickly looking good as new. He then started feeling a warmth in both of his arms…
   His hand trembles as he lifts it up into view, small spasms coursing through it. Watching fearfully, Argent witnesses his nails extend slightly into blunted points. They don't become claws, but there's a certain bestial tone to them. The back of his hand gains a similar tone as the smoothness of his skin begins to dissipate into a coarser look. Upon it sprouts deep brown hairs that trail across the back of his hand.
   Flipping it over doesn't give him any respite either. The skin on his palms darken slightly, getting puffier and rougher. A hardness forms within them as well, caused by the formation of calluses. At the same time the size of his hand seems to increase as well. Fingers got thicker and fatter, the hand itself swelling in size as it got increasingly meatier.
   His arms seemed to follow in an instant, Argent groaning as he started to feel his trenchcoat tighten around the limbs. "H-how-" he grunts out, feeling his muscle mass increase with each passing second. The rest of his clothing also felt like it was getting smaller as his entire body size seemed to fluctuate, although it was at a much slower rate than his sleeves. 
   "You wouldn't understand," Roland responds with a shake of his head. "All I will say is you aren't becoming a wolf yet. Just the man who contains it." Roland then smirks. "I also feel you'll grow to enjoy it~"
   And Argent was indeed growing. His forearms thickened, bulk and muscle laying on them where such amounts of it wasn't there before. He could feel his bones creak and pressurize as they extended alongside them, shifting into a size better equipped to handle his inevitable new form. His biceps and triceps bloated as well, the ridges of their musculature steadily etching into the fabric of the sleeves of his hunting attire. His undershirt was growing uncomfortable at a rapid pace, and his trenchcoat was following that example.
   Away from his eyesight beneath the stretching fabric came an additional swath of changes. Age creeping in his skin, hardening it and giving it an almost leathery texture to it. Arm hair grew plentiful on the back of his arms, starting off as a sparse growth before it blossomed into a thick forest of curly brown hairs. Grays also speckled these hairs, further showing his shift in age.
   His muscles continue to balloon, rips beginning to form in his undershirt as things continue to process. He could hear a chorus of tears ring from the left half of his trenchcoat as well as his delts followed swiftly behind, broadening his shoulders to a thickness akin to that of his arms. The arm holes of his undercoat began to constrict as a result.
   Aggression soon started to seep into Argent's emotions. He lifts up his head to look up at the creature that's done this to him. He shakily begins to try and walk over to Roland's position on the other side of the room, body trembling beneath its increasing weight both physically and emotionally. "Is this… vengeance?" he spits out, his breathing growing labored as the changes begin to enter his chest. The sound of one of the many belts surrounding his torso tightening, the metal creaking for a few seconds before snapping fills the air as Argent awaits a response.
   "You could say that. It's less vengeance and more… vindication? Justice? The right words are so hard to find these days."
   "Stop fucking dancing around the question and answer me you flearidden piece of-"
   "See, there it is. You hunters seem to have this whole issue with us for… no good reason? I could never tell. Perhaps it's some underground war caused by predecessors long gone. I'm just trying to subdue that!" Roland stops leaning on the wall and takes a step forward. "Us so-called 'monsters' are people just like you. And yet, so many of you seem so… obsessed with wiping us out."
   The sound of metal snapping as a second belt buckle on Argent's body breaks pierces the air.
   "I hope that's not silver…" Roland says with a hint of concern.
   Argent just growls as his balance finally destabilizes, the man stumbling sideways and banging his right arm on the wall. The meatiness of it mitigates whatever pain he would've gotten from it though. Even then, he's too focused on trying to breathe as he feels the belts and undercoat of his attire continue to constrict his body in what practically feels lethal.
   The zipper of his undercoat begins to move downwards as his torso barrels forward. Thick muscle swelled it in size, mass filling them out as he was given hefty pectorals. However, their musculature seemed to fade almost instantaneously as a softness accumulated around them. A tear quickly formed in his undershirt as fat bubbled into existence in his torso. A thick bush of hair was also growing across the area as well, overtaking the skin as a coarse fluffiness sprouted across his chest.
   The zipper of his undercoat continued to move downwards before it was stopped by his third belt, which was located on his abdominal. Both his third and his fourth belts were all that remained, stretching and attempting to contain his thickening form to the best of their ability. Argent began to slump, body sliding down the wall as his oxygen intake was beginning to seem insufficient to his body's needs. 
   Luckily, all of that was about to be alleviated.
   The zipper was the first to break apart as his abdomen started swelling in size. Abdominal muscles were the first to form, rippling outsides and etching into the fabric and leather of his clothing. His frame even was broadened to accompany this, the fourth belt being the next to snap and fall away. 
   His belly then bubbled. Much like his torso, his stomach was gaining weight as well. Fat filled the area, his belly going from toned to pudgy in seconds, then pudgy to chubby. Fat continued to accumulate in the area, constantly filling his belly until it was given a sizable gut that shattered his third belt and completely broke the zipper of his undercoat. It continues to extend beyond that, his undershirt riding up his belly to reveal thick hair growing across it. 
   The button holding his pants together was the next to snap under the pressure of his belly. Argent, breathing heavily now as he looked down at it. He was trying to keep it together, but there was obviously fear in his eyes. He then noticed the floor starting to get further away from him, a chill entering his legs as his height seemed to begin to shift. This was accompanied by the feeling of pressure in his back and legs. 
   That feeling in his back only seemed to build up more and more. Constantly and feverishly, it felt like something was trying to bust out of the base of his spine. 
   "A tail…" he whispers, the pieces falling into place.
   "Yup. I do suggest you lower the seat of your pants a little just to let the little thing flow out more freely." Roland nonchalantly advised, as if he's trying to help.
   Argent begrudgingly accepts, shakily moving a hand to his behind and lowering his pants a little. The building pressure seems to subside as he feels a more slithery feeling then come from the base of his spine. He didn't want to watch, but he knew what it was. The tail extended from his rump, growing and expanding as short fluff and fuzz sprouted from the flesh. It continues to extend until it reaches the length to brush the crus of his leg. Shortly after that the fur bushes out, thick in fluffiness and dusty brown in color. A proper wolf's tail.
   Argent's breathing slows, getting heavier and deeper. It was almost guttural. "What will you… gain from this…" he says between breaths. "Once this is over I could still kill you where you stand!"
   "Could, but not would." Roland says coyly, laying back on the wall he stood in front of. "There's a few things that still need to be put in still, but I think you'll be reconsidering those thoughts."
   "Shut up!" Argent yells, his voice noticeably deeper and more bestial. He momentarily regains the strength to heave himself from the wall and move forward a few steps, but his new weight throws him off balance again and he quickly stumbles to the other end of the room. He's prompted to hold the sill of the window he shot through. 
   The sleeves of his trenchcoat finally break apart as his skin begins to show, and his chest continues to gain visibility as his body continues to bloat and fatten. It seems to slow, though, as if it were finally reaching its apex. Thick hair carpets his chest even more, an almost furry look seeming to envelope it as brown and grays spiral around the region. It looked to be even thicker than what Roland possessed.
   He tries to readjust his legs, his pants tightening even more as the muscles within that area begin to bulk up as well. The seat of his pants filled out more and more, his rump plumping as fat filled it out. It was becoming big, round, and squishy. The expansion of his rear got to a point that the seat of his pants split rather quickly, his underwear struggling to stretch themselves over his buttocks.
   At the same time the seams of the sides of his pants started to tear apart, his thigh muscles swelling in size. Quads and hamstrings working out in tandem, thickening and bloating with increasing muscle mass. A softness rounded out the ridges as fat accumulation soon followed. And much like his arms, the bones in his legs shifted structure, lengthening and strengthening in order to support his weight better.
   Similar changes were being mirrored beneath his knees, his calves growing larger and pushing up against the leather of his boots. Their swelling pulled against the strings of his footwear, pulling at them and effortlessly snapping them. Thick hairs also grew plentiful around his legs as well.
   His boots were already pretty tight but as the final swath of changes reached his feet his footwear was pushed to its limit. The toecaps bulged, his toes pushing up to them as his feet grew even larger. He could feel pressure in his nails, no doubt them gaining the same dull claw feature as his fingernails. His soles itched, hardening with calluses and etching with scars. It wasn't long before his boots finally gave way, feet bursting out of them, crawling out the fractured brown leather and feeling the chill of the air. Dense, curly hairs grew upon the back of his feet as well.
   The remains of his boots easily slipped off as Argent started stumbling around again. He wasn't acclimated to this weight, this size. His pants tore against his moving legs, the sleeves of his shirt tearing apart as well. His uniform was in tatters at this point.
   His footsteps are heavy on the wooden floorboards of the bedroom. His mind races as he begins to realize only one part of his body is left unchanged. His head…
   "Here…" Roland says as he walks towards the worried hunter. Sharpening his claws, he grips onto Argent's undershirt and tears off a large chunk of it. He does the same to the hunter's overcoat, but leaves the trenchcoat on. "Consider this an exoneration of your sins, best hunter of the guild."
   Now Argent's newly formed, hairy chest and belly were mostly visible to the world. "That's a body I like…" Roland whispers lustfully.
   Argent lets out a shuddered breath, but tries to put up a front. "B… big mistake…"
   "I think the only one who's made a mistake here is you." Now Roland is the one with the cocky smile. Despite Argent's new height, towering over Roland by a little less than a foot, Roland doesn't seem to care. He doesn't seem to care that Argent could go toe to toe with him on equal footing. He doesn't care about anything at all. Instead, he embraces Argent in a hug, nestling his head into the hunter's burly chest. 
   "Wh- what the fuck are you doing-" Argent says with a literal growl escaping his throat. 
   Roland only gives him a single response. "Your voice is so deep. So sexy…"
   Argent's chest warmed at the… the compliment? What the…
   One of Roland's hands starts to slip downward, trailing down the larger man's spine. It's soft. It's sensual. It's…
   "Your heart is beating faster," Roland starts. "I can smell it off you as well. You can sense it too, yeah?"
   Argent just swallowed a lump in his throat. "I… I…"
   Roland's hand then dashes upwards and onto Argent's head. He begins to ruffle the man's hair. "Why don't we speed this up. Go on, hunter. Give in. Well, you won't be a hunter anymore after this…"
   Argent shuddered, but he was finding it hard to be afraid. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's… enjoying it. "Nngh, must… resist…"
   It became hard to do so, though. Argent's ears started to sharpen to a point, shifting in structure to become more triangular. Lupine. They pulled upwards and after a few seconds sat atop his head. Brown fur practically covered them in an instant after that. Roland then repositioned his hand and… started scratching behind one.
   "You love this, don't you Bertie…"
   "Mmph… yeah…" Argent's cheeks flushed. "W-wait, no… can't… nngh…"
   "Stop resisting," Roland uses his strength to grip Argent's body closer. His head positions itself to look at Argent's face. "Don't you feel it? Everything finally kicking into gear?"
   Argent's face itched, and from this itch came longer stubble. His previously light stubble grew longer, curling in on itself and getting denser. Thick hairs grew into a mustache above his lip. Thicker hairs conglomerated into a beard. Even after forming a beard it seemed to get thicker, denser, longer and fluffier. It has the same fur-like density as his chest hair, it had the same coloration and scale of grayness to it. It was a beard that felt so… so fluffy…
   "My… head's hurtin'..." Argent says. His voice seems to lower more, a husky tone gaining prominence than it did before. Roland then stops scratching his ear in order to reposition the hand under his chin and scratches that instead, stimulating the beard fur and his mind.
   "A good scratch always makes you feel better, Bertie." Roland's voice seems so filled with fondness.
   "That's not my…"
   "Oh but it is," Roland interrupts. "Bertolf Forrester."
   Argent's head slumps at the sound of the name. It sounds so… good. Proper. Correct.
   His head starts to restructure, face growing wider and rounder, cheeks filling with fat as it becomes squishier. His nostrils flare up as his nose expands, rounding out. His youthfulness also starts draining, skin gaining age as it gets rougher and older. Signs of aging crept besides his eyes and mouth, circulating around his face. His eyebrows become thicker. His eyes become a little wider. He goes from looking like a cocky young adult to a friendly older man. 
   His age has been shot up; twenties, thirties, fourties. His face, his body, settles at being in his early fifties with small amounts of gray etching into the hair on his head. As for the remainder of the hair on his head; the dirty blonde changes shade into a deep brown. The fringe style of it shortens, follicles twisting as it becomes a shorter, curlier style.
   "K…keep goin'..." the now older man whispers, almost pleasured by this.
   "Feeling any better, Bertie?"
   "I…" Argent squeezes his eyes. "I can't… I need to…"
   In a second the positions of Roland's hands switch. One remains around the body of Argent, but the other switches back to behind him and moves downwards to his butt. Roland then gives it a firm squeeze. "Let. It. All. Go."
   Argent begins to slump, something possessing him as his back arches and his face grows closer to Roland's. Resistance is getting harder. That urge to give in increases with each act Roland does to him. He wants to hate the werewolf but something in his mind was preventing him. He's getting filled with affection for Roland. To…
   A part of him tries to escape one final time. A futile attempt to pull away, but he finds himself confused. He finds his entire sense of self confused. Why is he… why is he so afraid? Why doesn't he want to give in? What stops him from giving in?
   Something shifts within him. He begins to move closer, his fears subsiding rapidly. Technically, his whole identity subsides. Years of hunting and killing unjustly. Years of satisfaction at the sight of bloodshed. They are washed out of his mind in an instant. The only hunting he seems to care about is going out into the forest and looking for a good deer to slay.
   His eyes snap away from Roland's, he looks to where his… weapon was meant to be. He doesn't know what to expect, but he finds a weird conglomeration of wood and metal that seems to be growing larger. It looked less like whatever it used to be. It looked like an axe.
   Something on his body shifts as well. Tightness alleviating, material getting slightly more comfortable. He doesn't look, but part of him knows what's happening.
   The bottom of his trenchcoat slinked upwards until it nestled at his hips. The buttons of it shifted from metal to plastic, growing slightly smaller. The material softens, thinning out into something more cottony and casual. Then there's the coloration, dull brown becoming a red, gaining a pattern as bold red lines of various shades criss-crossed around the new material giving it a plaid look. The trenchcoat's collar shrinks as it's lapel dissipates, and the collar itself folds downwards into a different kind of collar. He can feel shreds of clothing slink away from his arms as well, his new flannel being given a torn sleeve look.
   His pants are the only other article of clothing that shifts. Size altering to fit his new meaty legs, deep brown shifting into a dark blue. The material hardened as it altered, becoming denim as multiple pockets seemed to fade into the material with only two front pockets and two back ones staying. The bottoms of the new jeans wear and shred, the denim clearly having gone through many arduous experiences. All that remains is a belt, one of the only ones that remained on his body slithering around it and nestling around the loops of his jeans. It remains unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. 
   Shreds of his former clothing still do remain, though, but all of the significance of them fades. All Argent can think of is Roland, love welling up within the man. 
   Roland uncups the man's butt and lifts his hand to the back of Argent's head. "Let's finish this…" he says with a smirk as he begins to lower Argent's head to his own. After a few seconds of leaning in…
   Their lips finally touch.
   Bertolf's eyes flitter as his head is filled with memories. New information was given to him at a rapid, near instantaneous pace. His life as a lycanthrope, his job as a lumberjack. Everything associated with that as fifty two years of information was shoved into his mind. His personality was altered, his emotions were altered. Everything was becoming this new being, the former monster hunter being erased completely from the mind of this man. This continues for a minute. And in that minute, everything is set in stone within Bertolf. 
   They then break away, both participants breathing heavily.
   Bertolf takes a few moments to take everything in, but once he comes to his senses he speaks. "Wh… what was I talkin' 'bout again?"
   Roland shrugs. "I don't think it'll matter."
   Bertolf tilts his head, a brow raising, but doesn't question it. With a deep laugh he says, "Can't even remember what we were doing!"
   He then takes a few steps back and looks around. "The heck happen to the window? And why do I smell… silver…"
   Roland just walks closer to him. "While you were out I had a little skirmish with an intruder. They were dealt with rather quickly, though…"
   Bertolf eyes Roland. "Rolly, please don' tell me ya' killed 'em."
   Roland rolled his eyes. "No, no! Just gave him a good bite. You know I hate the taste of human blood anyway."
   "Yuh, yuh, you always say that. Good thing it ain't a full moon or you woulda made a powerful new enemy, heh."
   Roland just nods before his stomach growls. One of Bertolf's ears flick at the sound, the man smiling. "Ough, guess someone's hungry!" 
   "Yup."
   "Then I'll start preppin' dinner! Should have some leftover deer meat in the freezer."
   "Heh, you always make the best deer, Bertie."
   "Awh, thank ya!"
   Bertolf takes a few steps, but stops when he notices his trusty axe on the ground. He picks it up and eyes it, sniffing an unfamiliar smell from it. "That guy who snuck in here tried to use this as well, huh?"
   Roland took a few seconds to come up with a response. "Yyyep. Shot- I mean, sliced my arm pretty good."
   Bertolf questions the legitimacy for a moment, noticing the lack of blood on the axe's blade, but chooses to ignore it. Turning around he heaves the axe onto his shoulder and smiles. "I'll find a better place to put this then. For now though: deer!"
   The older man then leaves the bedroom, ideas running around for how to prep dinner. Roland can hear an exasperated sigh as his husband enters the living room, presumably noticing the mess he made in there earlier. With a soft chuckle he says something before Bertolf could comment. "Sorry about the living room by the way! Things got feisty."
   "And I thought it was only us who got feisty in here!" Bertolf yells back, then follows up his comment with a deep laugh. It fills Roland with warmth. Amorous warmth.
   Tenseness drains from him as he truly calms down. He looks around at the bedroom. Glass shards strewn across the floor, blood pooling near and on the bed. Both are going to be bitches to clean.
   He then eyes a single hole on the floor, nose scrunching up as he smells the atrocious odor of silver. He walks over it and bends down, unsheathing his claws and digging them into the hole. He pulls out a single silver bullet.
   "We both took a gamble here. Seems like you were the one that lost."
   He stands back up and begins to saunter towards the door threshold. He deposits the bullet in one of the few things that remained upright in the room, a small trash can beside the doorway, and then walks out.
   His plan was successful. It likely won't be one that would be repeatable, but it was successful nonetheless. He managed to take down one of the most prolific hunters in the guild. The very thought made him shiver with pride. Spells like the one he used were always unpredictable, and that was if they even worked. He's not sure what he expected as a result, but a new husband was at the very least a desirable option.
   He peers into the kitchen, his golden eyes watching Bertolf pull a slab of deer meat out the freezer and stare at it in thought. The man was ignorant of who he was. Who his ideals used to be. Who his allegiance used to be to. 
   Was this result too much of a reward for the acts he committed? Maybe it was. But does it matter? Argent Chandler is just a faded entity now. Gone from this world. In his stead was someone better. Someone loving, someone caring.
   Roland inhales, then exhales. Then smiles. Loneliness is long forgotten now. He has someone he loves, and someone who loves him back, and…
   And there was no taking that from him now.
                                        ----------------------------------------------------------
Mission No° 479: October 31, 20XX
Target Name: Roland Forrester
Agent On-Call: Agent No° 47 ~ Argent Chandler
Status of Mission: Unfulfilled [ICED]
Date of Icing: December 1, 20XX
 Reason of Icing: Agent No° 47 (Argent Chandler) was dispatched to take out the target at roughly 11pm on the date shown. His last message to any other agent was at 11:32pm. Since then he has gone missing for roughly a month. Agent No° 52 (Mariana Gigan) was dispatched to the location fifteen days after Agent No° 47's disappearance with the intent to locate a possible body. All she found was a cabin with two noticeable lycanthrope members. She did not engage and instead left unnoticed.
It should be noted that the cabin was stated to only have one inhabitant until fairly recently. We theorize that the original lycanthrope in question (Roland Forrester) managed to conduct a turning that seemed to shift Agent No° 47 in a different manner than usual. We are unsure how such an occurrence could happen, nor do we wish to investigate it unless we are prompted to by an orderer. As a result this case is now iced and will not be reopened further_
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callsignbaphomet · 3 months ago
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I said I was gonna talk about this so here I am, talking about it.
As of late I've been putting Angelus in a very different light. More confident, stronger (in every sense of the word), more outgoing and taking more charge and most notable not as depressive. If you've noticed (or not) since the beginning or better said the remaking of my blog I'd always tag Angelus in the most depressive posts I came across and anything depression related was instantly tagged under his tag. Any time I wrote him he was this ball of depression and anxiety but for a while now I've been changing it up especially in the AUs and they've been slowly bleeding into the Oracle version.
We're not gonna get into it here but that guy did not have an easy start to his life. He himself says his life started the second Jelani carried him out of that makeshift grave and with good reason. Lately though he's kind of changed, from being really meek and super quiet and unsure of himself to outgoing, loud and his depression has taken a backseat to the point where he even forgets it's a thing. Yeah, he has moments like with any life long illness but for the most part you can say he's beaten his demons down.
Like I said some time ago, this story I'm planning will have him meet a specific person that will add even more to his recovery. That person will actually help both him and Jelani with their internal turmoils (Angelus with being a Crossed Breed and Jelani with being the Arch-Maker).
I've never mentioned this but all werewolf breed names are kind of based on traits whether physical or something they've done.
Silver sights = their eyes glow silver and they have a bit of an ability to kind of hypnotize their prey for a few seconds (I never said any of it was clever ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.��)⁠╭)
Mist walkers = have a bit of a passive ability to "conjure" mist and fog as a way to blen in during the hunt.
Howling ghosts = their howls can momentarily cause their prey to freeze in fear.
Stalkers = their name comes from their ability to move almost completely silently and really fast.
And then there's the Crossed breed...it was meant as an insult. You cross a Howling Ghost with a Stalker and you get a breed that's crossed. A mutt. A mongrel. A cur. You get the idea. Not a nice name but it stuck and Angelus had to live with it. Aleksey tried to squash the use of that name but even someone as influential as he couldn't stop it. At some point Angelus stopped caring and kinda did the whole "reclaim it" deal but when people wanna be hateful they will absolutely try their hardest.
In the story (I can type again lol) this person, a nature goddess, who also holds the moniker of "Mother of werewolves" isn't exactly thrilled about the name so she herself names his breed, she'd spread her influence and make it stick. She's an interesting individual, I should talk about her sometime. I've been sitting on this for weeks because I wanted something fitting and that I liked. Eventually I settled on Moonborne. So as soon as I finish said story I'll be changing the info everywhere to match the canon events tied to it. Tbh I myself am gonna start using Moonborne from now on outside of stories before this specific story.
Meeting and talking to said individual will affect both Angelus and Jelani positively and would eventually help Angelus further, at this point he was already overcoming his depression but meeting her would help further. Not to take away credit from him, you know, he struggled and was beat down but ultimately he was the one that managed to get himself out of the shit.
Honestly I just think it was high time I evolved him past the "depressed kid of the group" and let him come out of his shell. It also works to help me as well. There's a teensy tiny detail about Angelus that I have only mentioned once but it's why he is so very important to me and why he was the very first OC I made. Both he and I have grown and changed a lot since his inception when I was 14 and I think he deserves better. Both of us are still wounded and we may have our lows but yeah, I think he deserves his highs more than his lows.
Don't get me wrong he's still a lil ball of rage, fury and anger but just not as depressed lol.
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braveclementine · 1 month ago
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Part 16
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Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).
Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. Also, all of Severus and Elizabeths' childrens names are mine and mine alone.I also do not condone any copying of this.
MINISTRY OF MAGIC, GRAND MEETING ROOM
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Severus stands off to the side near Remus as the Minister of Magic, aka Hermione Granger, stands on stage with Harry. Elizabeth is technically on stage, though she is standing off to the side, leaning against the wall. She looks deep in concentration, not paying attention to the other witches and wizards that move around below her. 
Kingsley is there too, though Severus has no idea when he returned to London. The last he had heard, the retired Minister had settled down in Jamaica to live the rest of his days out in peace. 
Sprinkled throughout older Ministry wizards and witches are familiar faces of his past students or former colleagues. His godson Draco stands near Ginny and Ron Weasley. He notices that Minerva has shown up at some point, along with Trang. 
"Order!" Hermione calls from the stage. "Order. Do I have to conjure silence?" 
Severus smiles to himself as he watches Elizabeth roll her eyes. Both of them know you can't actually conjure silence. Rather, it's a spell to give the illusion of silence, though someone could still be speaking. 
"Good. Welcome to this extraordinary general meeting. I'm so pleased so many of you could make it. The wizarding world has been living in peace now for many years. It's twenty-two years since we defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, and I'm delighted to say there is a new generation being brought up having known only the slightest conflict. Until now. Harry." 
Severus frowned slightly as he watched Harry take to the mic next. Until now? 
"Voldemort's allies have been showing movement for a few months now. We've followed trolls making their way across Europe, giants starting to cross the seas, and the werewolves- well, I'm distressed to say we lost sight of them some weeks ago. We don't know where they're going or who's encouraged them to move- but we are aware they are moving- and we are concerned what it might mean. So we're asking- if anyone has seen anything? Felt anything? If you could raise a wand, we will hear everyone speak. Professor McGonagall- thank you." 
"It did look like the potions stores had been interfered with when we returned from summer break, but not a huge amount of ingredients were missing, some Boomslang skin and Lacewing flies nothing on the Restricted Register. We put it down to Peeves." 
Severus immediately felt alarm. Those were ingredients for Polyjuice Potion! Sure, other potions, but for them to be stolen or missing? It had to be Polyjuice potion. His eyes met Elizabeths', who were reflecting his realization back to him. 
"Thank you, Professor. We shall investigate. Nobody else?" Minister Granger asked as she looked around. Severus  noticed that Trang looked like she wanted to say something, and then held back, shooting a covert look at Shacklebolt instead. "Fine, and- gravest of all- and this hasn't been the case since Voldemort- Harry's scar is hurting again." 
Severus almost laughed out loud, except that he knew the details between Potters' scar and the vanquished Dark Lord. 
"Voldemort is dead. Voldemort is gone." Draco said fiercely. 
"Yes, Draco, Voldemort is dead, but these things all lead us to think that there is a possibility that Voldemort- or some trace of Voldemort- might be back." 
Severus couldn't help but exchange a look with Lupin, who looked as convinced as Severus felt. It was impossible. The horcruxes had all been destroyed and Voldemorts body had been viewed by everyone at the Battle of Hogwarts. There was no spell, no potion, nothing that could bring him back to life. 
Except time. . . 
"Now this is difficult but we have to ask it to rule it out. Those of you with a Dark Mark. . . have you felt anything? Even a twinge?" Potter asked. 
"Back to being prejudiced against those with a Dark Mark, are we, Potter?" Draco challenged him. 
Severus sighed aloud. 
"No, Draco. Harry is simply trying to-" 
"You know what this is about? Harry just wants his face back in the newspapers again. We've had rumors of Voldemort coming back from the Daily Prophet once a year every year-" 
"None of those rumors came from me!" Harry snapped. 
"Really? Doesn't your wife edit the Daily Prophet?" Draco retorted. 
"The sports page!" The red headed Weasley girl spoke up. 
"This isn't good." Remus muttered next to him. 
"Draco. Harry brought this matter to the attention of the Ministry." Minister Granger tried again. "And I- as Minister for Magic-" 
"A vote you only won because you are his friend." Draco smirked. 
"Do you want a smack in the mouth?" Weasley snarled. 
"Face it-" Draco said, unperturbed. "his celebrity impacts upon you all. And how better to get everyone whispering the Potter name again than with 'my scar is hurting, my scar is hurting'. And do you know what this all means- that the gossipmongers once again have an opportunity to defame my son with these ridiculous rumors about his parentage." 
"Draco, no one is saying this has anything to do with Scorpius-" 
"What about you Kane?" Draco snapped. "What do you have to say about Voldemort coming back?" 
Elizabeth glanced over at him as though only just realizing that he was there and speaking. She looked around the entire meeting room and said slowly. "I have not seen Voldemort himself. There is a danger, but I can't see it yet. My visions have come much slower in the past years than they did while we were at school." 
Draco shook his head and walked out of the courtroom. Surprisingly, Elizabeth followed him out, looking a little dazed and confused, her eyes slightly glossy. Severus watched her go and then raised his wand. 
"Yes Severus?" Minister Granger asked tiredly. 
"For Potters' previous question about the Dark Mark, I haven't felt anything from it since the Battle of Hogwarts." Severus sighed. 
"Thank you." Granger said, making a note on her papers. 
By this point, a large majority had followed Draco out after Elizabeths' announcement. 
"Would've been nice if Elizabeth had just told us Voldemort wasn't a problem before we held the meeting." Weasley grumbled to his wife. 
"Knock it off Ron." Ginny sighed. 
"Severus, can I talk to you?" Remus asked quietly, the two older men leaving the courtroom. "Is Elizabeth okay?" 
"Honestly?" Severus asked quietly, leaning against the tiled wall of the Ministry hallway. "I don't know. We've had it rough since our last kids went off to Hogwarts. . . well you knew that anyways. We've been making up, this summer has been good, but something still feels off. Whatever is happening has her worried, but she. . . she hides it well." 
"You can't grill her over it?" Remus asked skeptically. "You, Dumbledore, Minerva, you all did that when she was in school." 
"I wasn't worried about our marriage succeeding or failing back then either." Severus sighed. "Honestly, I'm afraid that if I push the wrong buttons it's over. And quite frankly Remus, I can't lose her. I can't. But I'm starting to wonder if she's outgrowing me." 
Both of them were quiet and Severus caught sight of Trang and Kingsley talking to each other, both of them looking worried. Trang was showing him something on a piece of paper and he was tempted to go into one of their minds and find out what the drama was. All with the intentions of keeping Elizabeth's best friend safe of course. But he refrained. 
"That's not the Elizabeth I know." Remus finally said. "She loves you. She always has. Otherwise she wouldn't have put up with you for as long as she has. Maybe it's that depression some mothers get when they no longer have kids in the house. Like she doesn't know what to do with herself now." 
Severus smiled a little. "She's actually pregnant." 
Remus smiled a little too. "So you gave in?" 
"Not like it was planned, but well I won't go into the details but she's happy so I'm happy." 
Remus nodded and the two of them fell silent as Tonks walked over. "Fine." She said, rolling her eyes. "Keep your secrets. But Remus, we're going to be late." 
"Of course." Severus rolled his eyes at Remus sappy love voice, although he knew that's probably exactly how he sounded when he talked to Elizabeth. "See you later Severus." 
"Sure." Severus said, glancing back down to where Trang and Kingsley had been but they were both gone now. He quickly left the Ministry, going to find Elizabeth. 
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
I know I said I wasn't publishing anymore chapters until November, but I needed to post something for Maggie Smiths' deathday. Happy (would it be 0th or 1st Deathday?). Anyways, R.I.P. Maggie Smith. I hope you're in a better place now. 🐈
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blooming-violets · 8 months ago
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Sorry this is gonna be a bit of a rant since it’s something I’ve had strong feelings about since joining the AG/TASM fanfic part of the internet, and you’ve provided me a great opportunity to talk about it.
As a trans person, I am BEGGING fanfic writers to stop writing Marauders stuff. I’ve seen so many people defend it with “separate art from the artist” but like it or not they are still supporting JKR. Separating art from the artist only really works when the artist can’t profit from it. She has done SO MUCH harm to trans people and particularly trans youth in the UK and it’s so fucking disheartening and gives me such an ick when I see TASM writers also write for Marauders because it truly comes across as “I love and support the trans community except when it comes to this because I like it.”.
Even if you ignore the transphobia and holocaust denial (YES IM SERIOUS, she’s denied parts of the holocaust at LEAST twice and she literally did it a second time the other day), the original writing is so fucking problematic. Things just off the top of my head being;
The goblins being stereotypes of Jewish people
The fucking racism with characters like Cho Chang and Kingsley Shacklebolt
The last Fantastic Beasts movie’s plot literally being trying to make WW2 and the holocaust happen
This point needs to be taken with a grain of salt since this was some bullshit Joanne said after the books came out, but werewolves in the universe being meant to represent people with aids. Which is so fucking awful considering one of the two werewolves was attacked by the other as a CHILD
The most ironic part of this is that if Andrew is truly the person he presents himself as, he would probably fucking despise being associated with HP, even if it is just a fancast. But yeah all this to say fuck JKR, fuck Marauders fans but also thank you so much Katie for that last anon answer because I genuinely don’t see that enough in this corner of the internet.
Even Daniel Radcliffe, Harry Potter himself, has spoken out against her and continues to loudly support the LGBTQ+ communities. When your own beloved Harry doesn't even want to stand by your side, you should know you fucked up. Sadly, she does not, and instead leans harder into her bigotry and hatred.
I've always been someone who is very loud and opinionated when I see things that I disagree with, which I know can rub some people the wrong way, but fuck it. I don't like to whisper about my issues on the sidelines, I like to confront the problem head on by being very clear about where I stand and how I feel. I'm not gonna sit around and let someone align me with JKR just because I'm writing a stupid werewolf and Peter Parker fic that exactly 5 people are reading lol. It's not even a popular fic like get out of my asks jfc. Esp when I can tell this person has not read a single sentence of my story and is completely basing their judgements on my header image of AG's face next to a wolf gif.
In this past week I have seen both a Steven Harrington werewolf au and a Daredevil werewolf au cross my dash. Do we think they're getting called out for supporting HP?? No. Because their actors weren't "fan casted" as something years ago. Fan casts don't even mean anything! There was never a movie about them. AG was never casted or played this role. It's literally nothing but a bunch of fans agreeing that they like his look for a fictional character.
Anyway, I'm also ranting back at you haha. You can rant to me anytime. I love a good rant and I agree with you 100%.
Werewolves were not created by JKR. Andrew Garfield has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Don't make make snap judgments about a person's character based on a picture you saw. Support your trans community. Don't be dick.
And, if they actually read my werewolf au, they would see that it's literally about learning to overcome your own hatred and biases of people different from you and learning to love those you were taught to hate. Crazy concept, I know! 🙄😉
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