#maybe Horror on team werewolf?

[pigeonstab]

I wasn't actually planning on drawing vampire Killer and werewolf Cross but it could be cool... actually..

[pondslime]

Jenny Agutter as Alex Price in An American Werewolf in London (1981)

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

◤✘WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN | Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader ISSUE NO.#1

NOTES: ↳ I thought that this idea would be my smut ice breaker after it popped into my head when listening to some music. I have written smut before but it's been a while, especially in a form for others to read; so please excuse me if I'm a little rusty. This isn't exactly tied to anything particular regarding either Habits or Convict, but you may interpret this x reader however you wish. Have fun with the oneshot! I've tried to keep this as both descriptive and gender neutral as possible, but it may not be as on par with people who have become well accustomed to writing gn smut. WARNINGS! ↳ Enemies to lovers trope — profanity — wounded reader, mention of scars and blood — semi dom! Wanda and sub! reader & reversal — smut 18+, minors DNI** — angry/aggressive sex — dry humping — bondage — hinted breeding kink — semi-clothed sex — fingering and mouth oral receiving (Wanda recieving) — Wanda is just a tease to reader — maybe dubious consent? (I feel like I should put this in here, just to be safe) — minor choking — talk of marking — potential grammar and punctuation errors — I think that's it? SUMMARY: ↳ Of course this had to happen right before this mission. Wanda Maximoff had to pry inside your mind, searching for who knows what, the little witch did this to you. And now you will cash in on your promise - your one and only warning to her if she ever fucked with your mind: that you'll be a wolf at her door. Little do you know that you're a wolf walking into a trap.

✎ 4.2k

@alexawynters

↳ WANDA MAXIMOFF TAGLISTS

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‘Fucking dammit!’

You cringe to hide the snarl snaking up your throat, your palm harshly pressing into the bullet wound at your shoulder. A real fucking close call this time and all because of her. Yes, everything would have been fine had Wanda not pried into your mind, invaded the personal sanctity of your thoughts. 

But no. No, she had to just take a little peek didn’t she? And because of that, your mind was elsewhere - distracted - and your cover was blown before you could get the information you needed. In short, the mission was a complete fucking bust. Your report will undoubtedly be met by less than impressed superiors. When they brought you on, they expected the job done. 

It was your way to operate. You always got the job done successfully. Has Wanda purposely sabotaged you? Is that her goal?

You’re planning to confront her on the matter right now. You had stumbled all the way back to the compound because the car you took there was blown to pieces when you were compromised. Tony wasn’t going to be very pleased about that either. Shit, it’s like she’s trying to get everyone against you. 

‘Who does she think she is? Fucking me over like this!’

You enter the compound, the main level vacant except the night shift receptionist. She glances up at you and the sheer gasp of horror from her, you point a finger at her. “I’m fucking fine,” you snarl as you strut past her. Your hand leaves your shoulder to the large cut across your stomach. You allow a pained whimper to escape when you enter the privacy of the elevator to take you up to your chosen floor. 

Your ears ring in the deafening silence, breath fast paced and light. The wounds were of no dire measure to pay a trip to the medical ward. They only fuelled your anger towards Wanda. Ever since you first joined the team, Wanda always had a way to test your limits and push your buttons. 

It was just a common sight to see you both butting heads, whether that was during missions or at the compound. You both were always at each other, hackles raised and snarky comments. Of course, what was your conflict but a cover up to fatal attraction? That was the running theory of your fellow teammates, anyway. Never would you admit anything to them in any case. 

Wanda was a pain in your arse as much as you were a mongrel to her. 

Ah, that word: mongrel. Wanda favoured the use of that word for you. It was her name for you. The way you feel the fur beneath your skin bristle each time she calls you that is the reason why you now have to wear a shock collar. Anytime that the device would detect your body’s indicating factors of shifting, the shock would startle you and evade the transformation. 

Was it humane? No, not really. But did it give Wanda the power to only torment you further without repercussions? You fucking bet it did. 

The elevator pings and the doors open with a faint whoosh as you arrive on your floor. You immediately make your way towards her dormitory, which by incident, is temporarily yours as well. 

There was a small situation last week that left your own dormitory in such a wreck that Tony had you bunk with Wanda until he could fix and reinstate stronger materials to withstand your rage episodes. 

And you have only one person to blame for that particular incident. 

Your fist pounds on the door enough to shake it against the hinges. Your key didn’t work. She had the security chain engaged to keep you out. You can hear her inside, her voice is soft and fuck, if it didn’t aggravate you anymore than you already were it surely made something in your abdomen twitch and churn. 

‘That little–’

“Wanda!” you bark behind bared teeth, fangs pronounced in the mix of your frustration, you pound on the door again. “Open this fucking door, now!”

After a moment, and she was taking her time, you can hear the leisurely patter of her feet as she opens the door for you. She stands before you and the scent hits you. For a few seconds it disorientates you, you huff to regain control of your senses. 

“You fucking bitch,” you rasp, voice laced with your utter disdain for the woman who stood in your way; blocking your path. 

Her eyes were smirking first before the corner of her lips twitched into position. “How was the mission, mongrel?”

“A bust, thanks to you.” You growl down at her as you brush beside her to let yourself in. She closes and locks the door. 

“Why’d you do it, Wanda?” You watch her as she walks past you. When she doesn’t answer, you snatch hold of her wrist as you ask her again, tone far more venomous than before. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulls her wrist from your grip and continues on her merry way.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, witch! You did it on purpose, I know you did.” You point at her accusingly, the shake in your arm causes a streak of pain to shoot through your shoulder and you yelp. You press a blood stained glove to it again, teeth clenched hard that your jaw flexes. 

Wanda holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Right, blame me, of course that’s the logical thing to do. You just can’t admit that you failed to do the job.”

That’s struck a deep nerve because you’re pulled away from your original plan to grab a glass and your whiskey and head for the shower. Instead, you engage Wanda. Your hands encircle her wrists and the entirety of your body pins her against the back of the couch. 

The aftershock of the collar is a distant sting in the heat of the moment. Wanda is close, so close against you that with a breathy intake of air, her breasts push up into your ribcage. She eyes the vibrant hue of your glowing eyes. 

Still, she silently denies she had anything to do with it. Did she do it on purpose? You have to know.

“You– you read my fucking mind, Maximoff!” you hiss your accusation, “I told you to keep your magic away from there, but no, you had to go poking around.” 

Your hands move to grip her forearms and for the first time ever, she flinches. Your breath hitches in your throat and the glow dissipates from your eyes. 

There was much more you wanted to say. But the way her body flinched beneath your iron grip, how for a sliver of a second you swear you saw the ember of fear. Did you really scare her?

But then why did she smell like that?

‘Fuck, she smells like…’

With a deep breath through your nose, you lean forward until your lips brush the shell of her ear. “Stay out of my head, Maximoff.”

‘No.’

The glow returns to your eyes and the urge to shift right there crawls beneath, it feels like your skin is on fire. The collar whirrs in warning to keep your transformation at bay, lest you need another shocking reminder.

“Wanda–”

“So you’re really going to ignore the fact you heard me moaning your name before?” You hear the challenge in her light, accented voice.

The animalistic growl in your throat ceases immediately, eyes wide and despite your dominating position, you feel like the one under her. She smirks again. “Come on, what’s wrong?” 

She arches her neck - baring it to you - as she tries to press her lips to your own ear. She whispers with a sultry purr. “Don’t you want to mark me anymore, Wolf?”

Now it was your turn to be the one that flinches. Why is she doing this?

You retract yourself swiftly as if she caused you some semblance of physical pain that made you release her. In some form, she did. That pang of arousal deep within you begins to awaken and you don’t like the smug look on her face as she sits herself up. 

She tries to act cute and innocent when she is anything but that. But her eyes compel you with the flutter of her dark lashes. Was she casting a spell on you?

You back off slowly, eyes trained on her as she takes one step forward. Then another. And another few after that. You watch her hand gingerly play with the tight knot of her short, silky bathrobe. Only now did you realise exactly how short it was on her, the hem of it grazing just above the middle of her thighs. No wonder her scent was so strong, there were barely any layers to conceal it.

She wanted this to happen.

“You know what they say about us,” she tries but you’re quick to shut it down. “There is nothing between us.” Your conviction is absolute on the matter. Even if there was a hint of attraction towards the woman in front of you, surely the others would have something to say about it; all of which would disapprove. You’d not gained a wisdom linking you to your supposed mate which gave you ample opportunity to sleep with whoever and however many you wanted. 

But you never did. You continue to stare at Wanda, unblinking with a narrowed gaze. She shakes her head. Of course, she isn’t going to take your word for it easily. No, like always, she would fight you over it. 

“But you want there to be.” She sounds so sure of herself. She is still stalking towards you. When did you become a prey and her the hunter? You give no response and this only gives her more power to do as she sees fit. 

“If it weren’t for that collar around your neck, you would have me bent over the couch right now.” You hold a hand out as you call for her to stop. She halts in her advance, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. She flutters those lashes again and your breath feels heavy, swollen because of your conflicted arousal and confusion. 

“That is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“I said stop,” you warn, slowly lowering your hand, “whatever you’re playing at right now, I want no part.” You see her lips fall open as she offers a toothy grin. “I’m just trying to understand why you fight this.”

“I’m not fighting anything,” you say quickly with a shake of your head. “No?” she purrs lowly with a quirk of her brow. Shrugging, she raises a hand up. “Then you won’t fight this.” 

The ambient glow of her magic orbits around her hand as she swipes her arm to the side. Your brows furrow and mouth falls agape, the clicking of your belt looped around your tactical pants is quick before the strap of leather is flying to the side, to some forgotten corner of the common area. 

Your eyes that bore witness to your belt coming undone fly up to meet Wanda’s, a protest on the tip of your tongue, you’re stopped short when you’re knocked back. Your arse, which you expect to get planted on the floor, is instead caught by one of the dining table’s chairs. Your arms are restrained by her magic to keep them pinned behind you.

“W-Wanda, what are you–”

She shushes you while she catches up to you, her steps slow and methodical. Her stare penetrates the darkest recess of your soul and you recoil beneath it. The pain of your wounds as they begin their process of healing are long forgotten now. You have other things to worry about, how much Wanda actually knows about you and what she intends to do with you. 

“I want you to admit it,” she hums in a low whisper that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. She was playing on your fantasies. The fucking witch. 

“Admit what?” You force the words out through the biting of your clenched jaws.

“That there is something between us. That each time we fight it’s because we’re denying that attraction. That the wolf needs me to satiate its appetite because we both know I am the only thing that can.” 

Wanda stands between the gap of your spread legs, she swipes her hand quickly and the lapels of your coat and tactical vest are torn open by the will of her magic. You exhale sharply, a growl pulling through your teeth as you glare at Wanda between the narrowed slits of your eyes. She drinks in the sight of your bare chest before her, the way each of the muscles flex beneath the skin, the heat of your body practically rising off your skin like hot springs. The red streaks of blood from your wound peeking out just beneath the fabric of your gear.

“Wanda.” You’re panting now, anger turned into the vulnerability that was your aroused state of mind. 

That was why you never gave into those temptations. Why you dismiss that flirtatious bartender at every turn whenever she sees you in that bar, why those who have asked for your number, you give them either the number of some Chinese takeout restaurant or even one of your teammates. 

The threat of such vulnerability and intimacy was too great of a target on your back. She moves to straddle your lap, hands pressed to your exposed chest. 

“Admit it,” she says again and you snarl at her. “Never! There’s nothing to admit!” 

She giggles then and rolls her hips forward and down against your crotch. 

“F-fuck!” you stutter, your arms and chest strain forward but Wanda has you contained. Trapped. Like some common dog. A mongrel. 

“Still nothing between us?” she asks, voice laden with a soft whimper, her purpose is to make you crack; to give in and admit to everything she knows. As if lying would spurn her when she knows the truth. 

Why does she want you to admit it so badly? Because she wants to torment you, it’s so simple. 

“N-no,” you grunt only to hiss beneath your breath when she rolls her hips again, this time with more pressure. You swear you feel the pulsing of her clit against the coarse fabric of your pants. 

You do all you can to refrain from bucking your hips or else you were done for. 

“So you mean to tell me that you haven’t fantasised about…,” she trails off with a pout of her lips, feigning that innocent look of contemplation. “For fuck’s sake,” you drawl as your head falls back. 

She’s killing you. Slowly but surely she is killing you. 

She continues, “being out here in the kitchen, late at night, drinking your whiskey alone before I come out here in a short, little bathrobe…” 

‘Oh… fuck.’ 

That was a recent fantasy.

Her fingers drag down the ravine of your heated skin on show for her to then fiddle with the two threads that held her bathrobe together. “Wearing this?” You shouldn’t have looked but fucking hell, you were always the a little too curious for your own good. 

She’s tugged the knot loose and lets the silky fabric roll off her shoulders and down to her elbows. If this was all to be considered as some strange, aroused induced coincidence then that is out the window now. Because there is no fucking way she knew to pick a lingerie set in your favourite colour. 

You tilt your chin toward her only slightly and let your glowing eyes take in her form. The moment she arches her neck the slightest is when you lose it. 

You lunge your neck forward, your canines bared and at the ready to mark the junction between neck and shoulder, to litter her neck with dark bruises so she wouldn’t be able to hide them. But you’re stopped short yet again in your advance. Her magic prevents you, mere inches away. To top it all off, she chuckles. 

She’s cracked you.

You growl, the sound husky and deep in your chest. 

“Fucking– let me–” Your muscles strain and flex as you fight the barrier of her magic to no avail. She tuts you softly, moving herself slightly forward so that her arms push her breasts up to elevate her cleavage to become more pronounced. Damn her. She continues to roll her hips in a slowed motion, riding you out into your confession. 

“Shall I continue?”

“No!” The single word sends a thrilling chill down her spine. “Then admit it.”

“No,” you answer again, this time with a more levelled tone. 

Her fingers move to the fly of your pants as you let out a confused whine as she loosens them slightly. Her palm presses flush against the junction between your thighs and you moan. And that sound is the most exquisite sound Wanda has ever heard you make. For a battle-hardened wolf, wild and untamed and a proven danger to the public, nobody would suspect that you were capable of such noises. But Wanda knew. 

Her palm is small in comparison to you, and as much force as she uses now there is a level of delicacy she retains. Your resolve is crumbling quickly. You jolt forward again with your mouth ajar to mark her but she stops you and arches back. 

“Let me have you!” 

“I’ll let you have me, play out all your little fantasies with me. But I want you to indulge in mine, first. So… admit it and I’m all yours.” 

Was she fucking serious? This is her fantasy? Well, you never expected her to be into something like this. “Ah, fuck…” She hears your mumbling, any moment now you are about to surrender. 

She just needs to push that last little bit. 

“Just think about it, Wolf,” she whispers, lips dancing over yours, one of her hands placing a single finger between your lips to keep them from meeting. “I’m all yours if you just say it. Tell me what I want to hear, and you can have your little midnight snack right here. You can have me over the couch, in the shower and in your bed until the tousled sheets smell of nothing but sex.” 

Fuck, where did she learn to talk so filthy? 

“I can’t,” you say behind a heavy pant. She whines quietly in your ear as her other hand that’s palming you stops, but her hips continue to roll against that sensitive region. At this point, you’re chasing your climax right there. Who knows if she will keep to her word after she indulges in her twisted fantasy. 

You shift your eyes to watch her hand that rests between your bodies and you almost lose yourself to your high. Her hand dips beneath the lacey fabric of her lingerie, her fingers sliding over her folds and thumb rolling her clit in circles; all of which is left to the beauty of your imagination.

“Wanda, don’t test me!” Your words are a command; a warning that she doesn’t heed. “But this is a test.” Your brows furrow, confusion etched into your face. “To see if you can be broken in.”

Was that all you were to her? Something to be broken in?

She begins to make those sounds again. The same chorus of moans and pleas with your name as a choked gasp on the edge of her vocals. You overheard her masturbating when you first banged on the door to be let in. 

And she was doing it to the thought of you.

“Wanda!” you hiss, your hips finally buck up to meet the hunger of her own that roll with such fervour, you believe she was so close to getting off right there in your lap. “Y/N, oh f-fuck, Y/N!” she gasps out, “right there, just like that– oh shit!” 

“Fuck, I admit it!” 

Everything stops all at once and your chest heaves numerous times. The air is thick to your lungs and each intake makes you feel like you’re drowning more than anything. Wanda stares at you, silently, her eyes searching yours when you finally look back at her beneath that wolfish glare. How that stare made her wet in her panties every time. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You scowl at her teasing words. The moment you feel her magic cease is when you pin her against the dining table behind her. She props herself up on her elbows, the loose fabric of her robe still clinging to her form but she was exposed in that cute lingerie set.

Like a hungry wolf, your tongue licks over your teeth and along the top of your lips. You groan as her aroused scent wafts up, the smell irresistible. 

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” She chuckles beneath her airy breaths. “It was the only way to get you to confess.”

Your hand clasps hold of her throat. Oh, how you love the look of fear and lust on her face all at once. It was a sight only you would get to see. “And I have a million ways to ruin you,” you growl lowly, “now you’re in my fantasy, Maximoff and if you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into by letting the wolf at your door inside, then you know I’m always rough.”

“I’m counting on it,” she wheezes behind the firm pressure you apply to her throat. “Good. Now keep them spread, Maximoff or you’ll learn what rough is real quick.” 

She does as you say and spreads her legs open and you sink to your knees, even then given your height difference, you are at perfect level with her soaked cunt, the large, dark patch evident of how badly she wanted this all along. This whole time. 

Your clawed fingers none too gently rip the panties aside, fabric tearing from the sheer force of it. Wanda’s hands find themselves clenching fistfuls of your hair, tugging you in closer with a needy whimper of your name.

Her legs hook over your shoulders, mewling when you pepper her inner thighs with kisses and playful bites with your sharp canines, a rumble of a groan reverberating between her legs causes her to quiver. “Y/N, please!” she pleads. 

“Ooh, what’s this?” you chuckle, “don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll give you a taste.”

You slide a finger past her slick folds, her walls tighten around your single digit. You groan when her moan makes her pussy clench your finger tighter. “Shit, Wanda, I’ve barely done a thing yet.”

“Then do something!” she hisses and you give her that same, wolfish glare. “D-don’t look at me like– ahh!”

She is at your mercy now when you begin thrusting your finger back and forth, soon adding another two through the folds. She whines and moans, cursing your name and praising your work. When you pull your now slick covered fingers from her pussy, she tries to protest but the replacement is swift; and in her lust-ridden opinion, far better. Her eyes roll back and she lays flat on her back against the table as your tongue laps at her cunt, tip teasing the bud of nerves. You growl again and fuck, if she didn’t make the sexiest, neediest sound ever at that. You continue with what’s working at getting your little witch off. Her breath comes in short pants and her legs quiver as they move to circle around your head. Her fingers curl tighter against your roots as she chokes out, “I-I’m cum–cumming!”

You purr against the flood of her orgasm, lapping her divine juices up with your tongue. She breathes heavily for a moment in regaining her composure. You pull your head, albeit, struggling to pry her hands and legs from around you, you crash your lips against hers. The kiss is passionate, fuelled by hunger shared by both parties. Her mouth invites you and you gladly force your tongue past her parted lips, letting her taste herself on your tongue. 

You rut your hips between her still spread legs and they envelop you, encouraging the rocking motion with eagerness. “I still fucking hate that you read my mind and all,” you mumble into the kiss. 

‘Even when I say that I've also thought about carrying your pups?’

Your smirk with a coarse chuckle, dark in its intentions and your eyes glow that colour that brings Wanda to her knees. “Naughty witch, don’t test me there. Those will be my pups you're swollen with.” 

She tilts her head again but this time, you see no intent to tease in her eyes. No intent to…

“This isn’t a test.”

Fucking hell, that wolfish smirk of yours could make anyone wet at the drop of a hat. Too bad for others, because Wanda had you wrapped around her witchy, little finger that danced with magic.

Magic that just so happens to unlock the shackle around your neck. Well, the wolf at the door is now off its chain.

[gingiesworld]

Family Ties (1/?)

Natasha Romanoff x Werewolf Fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Torture. Angst.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories

If anyone wants to be a part of the taglist, please drop me a message or comment. Have a boss day my awesome dudes.

18+ MINORS DNI

The Selene clan were well known among the other werewolf bloodlines. They were feared by most, and worshiped by more. Although, power can be an untrustworthy friend to have. Ricard Selene, one of the Elder's who had made a deal with a growing organization, thinking he would be protecting his clan. Only to be proven wrong one night.

As everyone had tried to save the young, running into the woods. Ricard made sure that Y/N was unable to follow her family. As much as she tried to bite and claw at him, he was stronger.

"This will be our new beginning little one." He told her with a smirk as he led her to one of the agents.

Y/N looked around in horror as a vast majority of her family were unfortunate, laying lifeless and scattered among the fields. Y/N tried to get away, but she was only a pup, she was unable to overpower them as they injected her with an unknown liquid, all she knew was that her entire body screamed as her blood felt like it was on fire.

"What was that?" Ricard questioned as the Agent smiled wickedly.

"Aconitine." He informed him as the two watched as Y/N writhed in pain.

"Wolfsbane." He stated as the agent nodded, signaling for another two to place her in a cage.

"This little one will help us create the ultimate weapon." He smirked as Y/N was loaded up into the van. Ricard followed them as he saw the bloodshed because of his actions. He knew at that moment, he would never be accepted back into the clan. He would be murdered brutally if he was found by any of his family.

Although he never realised that Y/N's father, Aaron was watching from the treeline. His youngest in his arms as he felt anger and pain as he watched his daughter get taken away like some rabid animal.

As the years went on, Y/N was experimented on, her blood drawn and studied. She was forced to train endless hours as she had a constant drip of aconitine running through her veins. When the night fell, she would be chained up and muzzled, as though the agents were afraid she would escape.

"Come on mut." An agent sneered as he slashed her arm, causing her to yelp out in pain. "Change." He ordered her. It had become a regular thing, the constant transformations would take its toll on her, especially with the constant injections and lack of nutrition. It was worse than death itself, although she woke everyday, hoping it would be her last. What she never knew was that one of her own family watched every day as she was tortured.

"So, you think this is another base like the Strucker base?" Tony questioned Steve as they all sat in the briefing room.

"Yes." Steve stated. "It is the second base that has been confirmed to take part in experimentation, but is even more heavily guarded than the Strucker base for some reason."

"Maybe it might be another infinity stone?" Thor questioned as Steve shook his head.

"We already found the mind stone in Loki's scepter." He pointed to Vision. "The space stone is off-world with the reality stone. The mind stone is with Dr Strange and the power stone is also off world and who knows where the soul stone is."

"So this base is kind of like Fort Knox." Tony stated. "We would be stupid to go there!"

"But we could be stopping something that could end the world." Natasha stated as everyone turned to her. "Maybe if we ask Fury for a team of agents to help take out the guards while we infiltrate the base, get whatever intel we can get our hands on and blow the place up."

"What if we find prisoners?" Wanda questioned as Tony huffed.

"Leave them behind and let them die." He told her.

"We can't do that!" Steve yelled as Tony scoffed.

"We don't need any more enhanced individuals running around here." Tony told them.

"You can't be serious." Steve scoffed. "They are still human, we can help them like we did with the twins." He gestured to Wanda who played with her fingers at the mention of her brother.

"You can't control their powers, Steve." Tony seethed.

"I don't need to control their powers, I just need to earn their trust and let them know that they are safe." Steve told him firmly.

"So it's settled, any prisoners we bring with us for Cho and Bruce to check out." Natasha spoke firmly, looking around the room and waiting for anyone to disagree, her eyes soon glaring holes in Tony's head.

"We leave at sundown." Steve told them before he left the room with an angry Tony on his tail. Natasha had requested backup for this mission, only getting a firm yes from Fury.

The start of the mission went as expected, many Hydra agents were ready for the attack on the base. The SHIELD agents helped in taking the enemy out and covering the Avengers as they infiltrated the base.

"I have the intel." Tony informed everyone as Nat and Steve had walked side by side, lines of cells were locked but most remained empty.

"We have a prisoner." Steve informed them as he opened the door as Nat entered the cell, her heart broke at the sight of the woman who had been strung up and muzzled.

"What's with the chains?" Nat questioned as Steve helped get her down.

"I wish I knew." Steve told her. "Get ready to catch her." Nat had done as she was told, holding her around her waist as she fell limp in her arms. She could feel her ribs very prominently as she was also extremely light. Steve had also removed the muzzle and picked her up in his arms. "We're on our way out. Bruce, we need you on standby." Steve spoke over comms as Nat covered him.

"Who do we have?" Bruce asked as soon as Steve placed the girl on the gurney.

"It's a female, but I can't quite tell how old. Must be in her 20s?" Steve told him as Bruce started to work on cleaning the wounds.

"We're 5 minutes from landing." Clint notified everyone as Bruce decided to have the girls help with making sure that the patient was secure for landing.

"We're going to need Wanda to look into her mind." Tony stated as they landed.

"No." Wanda shook her head as Steve gave Tony a disapproving look.

"We don't need to do that." Steve told him firmly. "When she is well and ready, then we can question her. Until then, she is off limits." Tony just scoffed as he headed towards his lab, leaving Bruce, Cho and Steve to head to the med bay.

"Do you think she has powers?" Wanda asked as the two entered the kitchen.

"I don't know but the way she was strapped up tells me that there may be a reason." Nat mumbled as she brewed the coffee. "I just don't know what." She turned to face Wanda. "She had a muzzle on, like the one from that vampire show you watch, the one with the two brothers and the doppelganger."

"The Vampire Diaries." Wanda stated excitedly making Nat chuckle. "Do you think she is a vampire?"

"Vampires don't exist." Nat told her with a smirk.

"You never know." Wanda shrugged. "We live in a world where I can move things with my mind, Steve and Bucky have super human strength. We have a God of Thunder who visits regularly, so really anything is possible."

"I doubt that vampires are real." Nat chuckled.

"What about Dracula?" Wanda questioned with a raised brow.

"He was a recluse." Nat told her. "He never showered because he was afraid of water. The reason he was claimed to be a vampire is because of the lack of vitamin D, so he lost the pigment in his skin and the light hurt his eyes. That's where all of the myths come from."

"But it could be." Wanda questioned again as Nat shrugged.

"Anything is possible I guess." She said as she handed Wanda a cup as she walked away with a smirk on her face, leaving an excited Wanda behind.

She made her way to the med bay, standing beside Steve as he looked through the window as Bruce and Cho worked on her.

"Any news?" Nat asked as he sighed.

"No, she is still unconscious, Bruce has taken a blood sample to do some blood work." He told her. "There are multiple scars on her body and her wounds are practically healed."

"She looks just a little older than Wanda." Nat stated as Steve looked at her. "The lines around the eyes." She told him as he nodded. "But why would Hydra have her? What does she have that they want?"

"There have been sightings of beasts running around some Hydra bases." Vision informed them.

"What kind of beasts?" Steve asked as he took the tablet from the synthezoid.

"They seem to be of the canine family." He informed them. "But they also seem to be looking for someone."

"Her." Nat stated as the two looked at her. "The last base they had infiltrated was only 300 miles away from the base we had just been to."

"So do you think she could be one of those beasts?" Steve questioned as she shrugged.

"Let's just see if she wakes up, we can ask her when she is better." She told the two.

"But what if she is a danger to us all?" Vision questioned as Nat shook her head.

"She won't be if we don't string her up like a fucking animal." She growled before Vision left the room.

"So you think we are all safe?" Steve asked her as she nodded.

"Yes." Nat nodded. "She has been a prisoner for who knows how long. If we treat her as one, then yes, she will likely turn. But if we treat her as an innocent, a casualty of war, we may earn her trust."

"I hope you're right about this Natasha." Steve told her before he left, Nat remained watching as the doctor's worked on her. It was a while until she was moved into another room before Bruce came out.

"How is she?" Nat asked him as he sighed.

"She is ok." He told her. "There was a lot of scar tissue and multiple lacerations, but nothing too major."

"Then why is she still out?" Nat questioned as he shrugged.

"I don't know. We did multiple scans and nothing." He told her. "I have her blood work to go over and I will tell you as soon as I have the results."

"Thanks Bruce." She smiled at him as he nodded before heading to his lab. Nat entered the room where she lay sleeping, Nat decided to sit in a chair and wait however long she needed to until Y/N woke up. Looking through the folder she had took from the synthezoid as the steady sound of Y/N's breathing filled the room.

[kuroosdarling]

𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒 𝟏: 𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓’𝖘 𝕷𝖆𝖇

♡‧₊˚ starring: Dr. Akaashi

‎♡‧₊˚ cw: mdni!! unprotected sex, thigh riding, slight power play (akaashi acts as a mentor), manhandling, praise, double penetration

kinktober m.list

a/n: please please let me know if i forgot any tags. super nervous for my first kinktober fic but here we go !! thank u nesi for reading through all this and hyping me up LMFAO. i hope you guys enjoy it hehe

Honestly, you barely even wanted to come to the Halloween fair this year. It would’ve been another cruddy festival filled with hollow spooks and lame costumes. But your friends had insisted, and you were a sucker for them so here you were. They had decided to race off to the sketchy looking ferris wheel while your fear of heights had you deterring from the attraction. Instead, you headed towards the haunted house.

Everyone had said it was the scariest yet, but since it was run by the volleyball team on campus, you weren’t convinced. It would be something to pass the time while your friends rode a few rides. Maybe you could get your thrills in a different way.

“Good luck. All you have to do is complete the experiment, outrun the killer, survive the werewolf, break out of the torture chamber and somehow escape the underworld.” The guy at the counter said, sliding the ticket towards you.

“Oh is that all?” You roll your eyes, picking it up. It should be a piece of cake.

“Oh and don’t die.” The blondie that sold your ticket gave you a wicked smirk, softly puffing his cigarette smoke in your face as he gestured towards the double doors that led to the house. The house itself looked like a basic haunted house with faint ‘scary’ music playing in the background. Flashes of light and distant screams filled your ears as you looked onward. A crow sat by the front of the door and squawked at you as you made your way down the path.

As you walked towards the door, you heard the distinct buzz of a walkie talkie, but paid no mind as he was probably just alerting the staff that a new victim was walking into the house of horrors. Little did you know…

Opening the door, it felt like you were the only one in this whole makeshift building. The first room was obviously a spoof of Frankenstein, completed with the lab and even a fake body on the table. There wasn’t anyone even around which checked out since this was just a small little fair. They probably didn’t put much effort into it.

Something pricked at the back of your neck, raising the tiny little hairs that laid there. You easily shake off the feeling, trying to cool the rising nerves that flooded your system. A couple steps further and you could make it to the other side of the door, going through the door to the next room.

A resounding boom and a flash of light caused you to jump in your place. A slightly crazed looking man with glasses and a lab coat flew by you, muttering something under his breath as he made his way to the table with the fake body. Only it wasn’t fake, the body rising slowly as it groaned loudly. The man in the lab coat laughed maniacally before turning towards you, chanting something about he was alive.

“Why hello there. You’re just in time. Would you be interested in being my little test subject?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. For some reason, you couldn’t move your feet. The initial fear had stuck you in place but it was slowly rolling off of you as you took in his attractive appearance. His deep blue eyes burned with a spark that had you transfixed on him. The man made his way closer to you. “What’s wrong? Can’t speak? Maybe I can run another experiment on you then.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking towards the man that was getting off the table and slowly shuffling his way towards the two of you; his white hair shimmering in the low lights. You had slightly recognized him from one of your classes. But the Doctor himself was unrecognizable.

“Oh, so you can speak. Excellent.” The man waved over the ‘monster’. “I’ve been working on experiments and I think it’s time to move on to the next stage. This is my life’s work. But I'm going to need him to have more human interactions. Would you be able to help?”

What kind of haunted house was this? You should’ve high-tailed it far away by now, but the skit had seemed so immersive that you couldn’t break away from the scene. The look the doctor was giving you seemed so sincere that you couldn’t help but fall into his trap. 

“Sure. What do you need me to do, Doctor?” You asked, looking up at him. His eyes immediately darkened, absolutely pleased with your eagerness to

help.

“I’d like to release him into the wild to live among the people. But in order to do that, he needs to have social interaction beyond just me. I can only teach him so much, I believe a woman’s touch would be perfect for this next experiment.”

With the look that they were giving you, it was easy to tell where this was going. Biting back a smirk, you nod your head with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. 

“Let’s start somewhere simple. Would you be able to kiss him? Then we can see what progresses from there. This is for science, mind you, so just let whatever happen, happen. We need a full report on the expanses of pleasure.” He said, taking a slight step back as the ‘monster’ took another step forward towards you. His golden eyes sparked with delight and recognition as he took in your figure.

Not sure who was supposed to make the first move, you decide to step closer, gently holding his face and bringing him in for a kiss. Obviously, this monster had a little experience as he quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting out a small groan as he felt your tongue glide against his.

His strong arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you closer. A sigh escaped your lips as you lost yourself in the kiss. For someone who just came to life, he sure seemed to know what he was doing. His kiss was overpowering, backing you up against the wall. 

It was all escalating so quickly but all you could do was run with it. His touch against your skin was hot, deliciously igniting a flame in your core. What made it even better was the eyes that watched you from a distance, taking in every second that unfolded in front of him.

He hiked you up against the wall, pressing his knee up between your legs dangerously close to the spot you needed him most. A whine escaped you, flowing from the back of your throat right into his mouth. In return, you swallowed the deep groan he let out. Your hands run through his hair, pulling him even closer, but it wasn’t enough. Desperate for some more friction, you start to ride his meaty thigh, relishing in the pleasure it was bringing you.

“He’s going to need to learn more than just kissing, isn’t that right, Bokuto?” The doctor called out to the two of you. The ‘monster’ named Bokuto nodded his head against your lips before pulling back, searching your eyes for something. You look over at the doctor, who’s eagerly looking back. You nod at both of them. 

“I’ll help you guys with whatever you need. He needs to know what pleasure is, correct? Or am I misinterpreting the experiment, Doctor.” You feign innocence. you weren’t sure how far they wanted to take things but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t game. The doctor took a step forward towards the two of you.

“Correct.” He said slowly. “You can call me Dr. Akaashi, by the way. I want you to teach him how you need to be prepped before participating in the art of pleasure.”

You nod at him and look back at Bokuto, who was still staring down at you. Suddenly, everyone was on the same page and tension flooded the room, wrapping itself around your throat. The only solace you could find was latching your lips against Bokuto’s. Pulling him in for another searing kiss, you take a hold of his hand and trail it up your thigh to where the hem of your skirt lies.

“You can go ahead and take these off.” You purr, bringing his hand up further up to where your soaked panties were. Bokuto’s breath hitched in your mouth, his fingers curling against the fabric before ripping them down. The sudden cold exposure had you shivering in his hold. “Good boy.”

Bokuto relished in your praise, immediately moving his fingers toward your glistening folds. You gasp out as he slowly slips a finger in. His finger was bigger than you expected, the stretch already feeling so good. Bokuto’s lips crash against yours again, swallowing up any moans you let out as his finger stretches you out. It was hard not to buck into his hand, so you let your instincts take over. In response, Bokuto slipped another finger in, seeing how riled up he could get you.

“It looks good so far, but I may have to demonstrate the next few steps as they get increasingly more complicated.” Akaashi said, his presence suddenly coming into view as he steps beside you and Bokuto. His hand circles around Bokuto’s wrist, pulling his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, looking at Akaashi for your next direction. “Why don’t we try putting more than a finger in, hmm? Then we can have our dear Bokuto join us.”

“Yes please.”

Bokuto stepped back as Akaashi took a step closer to you; suddenly filling all your senses with so much as a dark gaze, the blue that used to take up his eyes had morphed into a color so deep you swore there wasn’t any blue left. There was a small moment of hesitation before Akaashi reached for your hand, placing it right on the bulge of his pants. You let a small gasp and you run your hand over it lightly, the coldness of his zipper almost stings your hand away but you move forward, slowly unzipping them as you hold eye contact. No one dared breath too deeply as you fish out his hard cock, standing tall and already oozing with pre.

He moves your hand gently before spitting in his hand to lube up his aching length, stroking it firmly before lining the tip up at your entrance. It already felt so hot against you — you couldn’t help but grind against it , letting out soft whimpers that filled the room. With a deep breath, he takes it and slowly pushes in, groaning as he slowly enters you. His head dips down so he could get a taste of your lips, the thing he had been craving since you had first walked into the haunted house. He couldn’t let Bokuto have all the fun, and your lips were just too soft to let up. The moment he bottoms out, the two of you groan into each other's mouths. The stretch felt so nice. His cock was lengthy and reached a part that was so deep in you that you didn’t know it could be touched. He hiked up your leg around his waist as he had you still pinned against the wall and started to move his hips slowly.

His hips slowly started moving forward, pushing into you at an increasing pace. Bokuto let out a soft sound at the sight, feeling somewhat left out. Your head turned, breaking away from Akaashi’s plush lips, much to his displeasure. Bokuto takes it as his chance to reclaim your lips. All of your senses felt fired up, you felt so full but it still felt like you were missing something.

“Bokuto, I hope you’re paying attention to how I’m doing this because – fuck – because you’re about to join us.” Akaashi breathed out, trying to hold back any moans that threatened to spill from his lips. He wanted to keep up the appearance of the calm and collected doctor but the way your cunt was gripping him had him struggling.

“There’s no room, though.” Bokuto pouted, breaking away from you. He and Akaashi shared a menacing look before Bokuto grabbed onto your hips as he slipped behind you, pulling you closer.Instead of being pinned against the wall you were now pinned against Bokuto's broad chest.  Akaashi’s cock chased you, trying to keep its place inside of you as Bokuto manhandled you around, trying to fit into the intricate puzzle the three of you were creating. Bokuto’s cock pushed against your backside. “Think you have room for one more in that pretty pussy of yours?”

“Please-” You whimper out. There’s no way that Bokuto could fit his girthy cock in you, but you figured you let him try anyway. Akaashi kept thrusting into you, squelching sounds filling the room. Akaashi spit into his hand again, but this time he grabbed a hold of Bokuto’s cock, sliding his hand over it to get it nice and wet before he tried to stick it inside of you. Luckily, Bokuto was dripping with his own precum which only helped the situation.

Bokuto slides his cock against Akaashi’s and prodded at your entrance. Your body tensed as you felt him trying to make his way in. Bokuto cooed in your ear, rubbing all along your body in soothing motions. Akaashi whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he stilled his hips, waiting for Bokuto to hurry up and for you to give him the okay to move.

Inch by thick inch, Bokuto made his way inside of you. Akaashi kissed all along your neck, trying to soothe any discomfort that the stretch had brought on. Their cocks rubbed together inside of you, deliciously splitting you open. You already felt so full even though he hadn’t bottomed out yet. The stretch of both cocks had you seeing stars, clenching around their cocks as you came around them.

“Shit.” Akaashi murmured, “That was so hot. Good girl, good fucking girl.” As you came undone, it only made it easier for Bokuto to bottom out. Now, both cocks were fully seated inside of you. “Ready for us?”

“Yes.” your head lolls back onto Bokuto’s shoulder. Your eyes trail up to Bokutos golden ones, locking into place. “Please fuck me.”

They didn’t wait for any further confirmation as they took alternating strokes into you. One would pull all the way out as the other pounded into you. It all happened so fast that it felt like they were continuously fucking themselves into you. Your hand clutched onto Akaashi’s firm bicep, holding on as the two chased their high. At some point, your feet weren't even touching the floor anymore; properly finding yourself sandwiched between the two men.

Even though you just came, you felt your next high building up incredibly fast. One of them must’ve noticed because you felt a hand slither down to your clit, rubbing slow circles along it. It was all too much so you weren’t even sure which one it could’ve been.

“Bokuto, remember that when you’re with a woman you have to focus on this spot here.” Akaashi spoke out, his finger increasing the speed, causing your back to arch against Bokuto. “Let me see your hand and we can do this together. I want to make sure you learn correctly.”

Bokuto didn’t say anything but you could tell by his grunt that he understood. Seconds later, you felt a thick finger and a lithe finger play with your clit as they had continuously pounded into you. It was all you needed to reach your high, letting out a long moan, you tighten against both cocks as you let your high run its course.

Instead of cumming inside of you, both men pulled out at the same time, causing your feet to finally land back on the ground. The sudden emptiness had you whining out but you quickly shut your mouth as you saw the scene in front of you unfold. Both men had pivoted towards each other, their tips almost lining up as they stroked their cocks at a furious pace. Almost at the same time, they came onto each other, a beautiful sympathy of groans filling the room as they reached their peak together. There were a few moments of silence as they stared each other in the eyes before their gaze landed back onto you.

Akaashi gave you a kiss on the shoulder while Bokuto kissed you on the head. One of them gently massaged your thighs as the other murmured the sweetest praise in your ears.

“Thank you for showing Bokuto the pleasures of life.” Akaashi pulled back, giving you a subtle smirk. “Your effort in our scientific research doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“Exactly! Now you can continue on your journey and spread your legs.” Bokuto beamed at you. Akaashi hit him against the shoulder.

“He means your knowledge. You can spread your knowledge.” He shook his head with a soft smile on his face. “You gonna be okay for the next few rooms?”

You smirk at the two men as you adjust your skirt.

“Oh, I think I’ll be just fine.”

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

I really loved the werewolf! sanford you wrote! I was wondering if you could do a follow up where someone on the team accidentally turns the reader? (maybe Hank or Sanford himself)

It's another werewolf! All dressed up in sheep's wool, and changing when the moons full. Can you show me the way?

Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!Reader P2

CW: Reader gets hurt, whole team gets hurt, descriptions of gore, vomit and body horror.

[Part 1] - will link later lol

Deimos had the zoomies, sprinting back and forth from your bedroom to the front door, his toes tip tapping with impatience and excitement. It'd been a couple months since you started going on hunts with the boys, always on Sanford's broad back, the night air fresh in your lungs, hair blown by the wind.

The boys felt safe enough to transform inside the base with you around, seeing as you could open the door to let them out. "I'm coming, hold your horses Dei." You chuckled as he ran up again, whining softly with puppy eyes, ears drawn back.

Something softly headbutted your back, and you turned to see Doc, who strolled passed and sat by the door. Hurry up. He was patient, yes, but even he was starting to get bored of waiting.

There was a scuffling noise in the kitchen, and you wandered over to see Hank with their head inside the bin, rummaging around for some leftovers. He turned to look at you, a chicken leg bone in his mouth. Yesterday's scraps, tonight's lunch.

Sanford padded out of your room, yawning widely, chuffing softly as he nuzzled his cold nose into your hand. "You ready Fordie?" He licked your palm, and you headed to the door, both wolves trailing behind.

Dei yipped in excitement, his feet tapping away still. He was the quickest of the pack, always sprinting around while outside, a supercharged battery burning off its excess energy.

Opening the door, the four wolves exited first, Deimos running off ahead, Doc walking behind, clearly intent on waiting until the door was secure as usual. Hank was still gnawing away at their treat, enjoying the marrow seeping out at they cracked and splintered the old bone. Sanford took a few paces outside, before laying down so you could climb on his back.

You pet Doc's head, setting the lock on the door before hopping into Sanford's back. "Alright furry boys, let's ride!"

Hank took off after Deimos, being easily swallowed by the night as the full moon was obscured by heavy clouds. Doc and Sanford followed, keeping pace with each other. It was routine, Deimos and Hank would run off up front, San and Doc taking up the rear, though rarely did they stray too far from each other.

The strength of a wolf is his pack, and the strength of a pack is the wolf. You could feel Sanford's heart beating against your thigh, his chest heaving as he ran along, his heavy paws thudding along, coughing up earth with his claws.

Up ahead, Deimos and Hank were atop a cliff, the smaller wolf looking skyward, awaiting for the very brief window when the moon would be visible. The three of you caught up, and you got off Sanford's back, the wolves grouping together to call a hunt.

A slither of silver shone in the sky, and Doc threw back his head, letting out a mournful howl, which was joined in a chorus by the rest. Butterflies filled your stomach, and you couldn't resist, howling with them too. And the moon vanished, hiding herself away for this night.

Hank threw you a questioning look, before marching down the cliff side, uninterested in you. Doc approached, nudging you with his head before turning to follow Hank. Deimos was wagging his tail, giving a soft awoo and giving a playful bow. Like Doc, he rubbed against you before waiting at the cliff.

San came up last, rubbing his face affectionately against you, rubbing his scent all over you. He'd asked you to be his partner recently, and you agreed excitedly. He'd given you a whole new happier life, of course you'd want to share it with him.

He bowed again, letting you climb atop, getting a good grip of his neck fur as you leaned into him, the cliff was pretty steep, staying low was the best way to keep safe and on top of your ride.

Together Dei and San raced, kicking up rocks in their wake, excitement flooding your veins. You weren't super into the killing, but the pack activities really helped bond you with the boys, they offered you more physical affection. Deimos was always trying to snuggle with you and Sanford, Doc would touch your hair softly as he passed by, Hank would... sometimes offer you a thumbs up.

Despite not being a wolf, you fit perfectly into the pack, as a pack mate, and as Sanford's girlfriend. Once again you hopped off his back, ahead of you stood a band of vampires. Stepping back, you tightly gripped the silver crucifix Doc had given you, the bottom of it had been sharpened like a knife, a powerful weapon for banishing supernatural beasts of all shapes and sizes.

"Fuck 'em up boys." At your command, the wolves lunged forward, the turf war underway. The wolves, all being skilled fighters in normal life, had the upper hand, and with their blood being corrosive to vampire's innards, it was sure to be a massacre.

Coloured blood painted the streets, neon leaking on every surface. Even the werewolves' badass bitch managed to take down one or two, Doc's gift proving to be incredibly useful.

Blood splashed into Hank's eyes, they were temporaily blinded, and with no arms to wipe the blood away, they latched onto the nearest thing that wasn't a wolf and smelled of vampires.

You screamed as his teeth dug in, and instantly he let go, realising his mistake. Deimos ripped the intestines of the last vamp standing, while Doc spun on his paws, noticing you crumple to the ground, clinging to your mauled arm.

"Hank you bastard!" Sanford snarled, lunging at him, the two sending fur and blood flying as they fought, San in pure rage, and Hank in self defence.

Doc raced over, Deimos following behind, both scared. "What happened?" Dei looked to Doc, eyes stricken with terror. "Vampire?"

"It was Hank. Sanford and I saw it." Doc nuzzled his face against you, licking your wound, but the pain didn't subside as it had with Sanford all those months back, it felt like acid was pouring into your skin.

"IT BURNS!" You dropped your weapon, Doc smelled burnt flesh and he nudged your hand, the silver having left a scald. The pain was overwhelming, you'd even missed out on the fact you could understand the wolves words now.

"SANFORD! STOP! She's going to turn!" Doc barked out, and a bloodied up Sanford tossed Hank aside before laying next to you, Hank had gotten a good few bites and scratches into his already wounded body.

"You.. I'm sorry, I didn't protect you princess." His golden eyes filled with hurt and pain, pain of being unable to protect his partner, his woman.

Agony filled your body, bones creaking and starting to reshape, nails splitting into claws, blood and teeth flooded out your mouth, old human ones forced out as new wolf ones formed in, round, sharp, capable of splitting flesh from bone.

There were no words to describe the hell your fragile body was going through, spine cracking and extending, legs bending unnaturally to take on new form. Blood, snot and tears flooded from your face, and it tore Sanford up, because there was nothing any of them could do to ease the suffering.

"They're going to be okay, right?" Deimos sounded panicked.

"Of course they are. She's always had a wolf's strength. Only now they've got the body to go along with the spirit." Doc put his tail around Dei's back, and Dei leaned into his father figure, whining softly.

Your body felt like it was on fire, a mixture of blood and puke rolled out of your mouth, your claws scraping up the concrete road. Bright wolf eyes opened, scanning the rest of her pack, seeing them in a whole new perspective.

"I know it hurts." Sanford placed his muzzle over yours, body twitching and settling into its new self. "The first few always do. But your body will get used to it. And they will never be as painful as the first one, that's when the worst changes happen. We've all been through it princess."

You rested your face into San's thick neck fur, his once off putting dog smell now appealing. "D-does.. t-this me--mean I get to bite the n-next one who joins u-us?" The joke fell flat, but Sanford licked your muzzle.

Hank took a step forward, and Sanford snarled at him, ready to attack if he advanced again. "I.. I'm sorry. It was an accident. Blood in my eyes. Instinct to bite."

"You are banished from the pack tonight. You will spend the night alone, and as many moons as it takes for her to forgive you." Doc commanded, his teeth bared. "Is that clear?"

"No." You eyed Doc, who's ears went backwards.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hank will not be punished like that. While I don't forgive them for what they've done to me, I will not deprive them of one of the only comforts they know." Your grey fur bristled.

"Are you sure?" Sanford mumbled lowly, never taking his eyes off Hank.

"Yes. You taught me the way of the wolf, and depriving them of that is cruel. But make no mistake, you are not to touch me, in any shape or form, my body is not yours to lay a claw or fang on again. You will have to do a lot to earn forgiveness, but if you try, perhaps you will."

Taking the lead, you turned and began heading towards home, each step painful as bones and muscles had to adjust to their new positions and lengths, black tipped tail hanging limp. Sanford followed, Dei behind him, Doc next, and Hank bringing up the rear.

"You are lucky," Doc growled. "that they are so kind. Even now, she has pared you from isolation, after what you've done."

"I know." Hank's tail was slightly between their legs.

Doc stopped in his tracks, letting the three of you get a lead, just enough to be out of earshot. "Besides, you owe Sanford an apology too."

"How so?"

"He wanted to change them himself." Doc gave a wolfy chuckle before plodding onwards, leaving Hank to ponder a moment. They would let their packmates nurse each others wounds, allowing their own to scab over without help, a self inflected punishment.

They trudged along, a space next to Doc was calling his name in the den bed. A space that was furthest from Sanford and his mate.

[lea-andres]

Okay, so, if I could mod, which I can't for multitude of reasons (mainly "my computer is dying" and "I has the dumb"... Also "I cannot art") I would make a horror mod SO FAST-

"Lea SDV is supposed to be cosy, not scary" first of all *points at all the yandere mods*, second of all SCARY IS COSY TO ME-

*coughs* Anyway-

So, the framework would be as follows: On a random night in Fall (ideally a rainy night but idk if that's doable), your spouse would have a nightmare. You would then become the hero of said nightmare and solve whatever horror scenario is happening. With it being just a nightmare it wouldn't permanently alter your game so I COULD KILL WHOEVER AND DESTROY WHATEVER I WANT YAY!

It would work like a festival I suppose? No time actually passes? IDK if that makes sense but it does to me.

You would probably get hearts from this assuming you're not at 14 Hearts with them already even though you technically didn't actually do anything lmao. ✌️

Okay, so, each bachelor and bachelorette nightmare would go something like this maybe (AND REMEMBER: THESE ARE NIGHTMARES THEY ARE HAVING! CANON BEHAVIOR DO NOT APPLY):

-Harvey: OOPS HE INSPIRED THIS WHOLE IDEA LMAO. You know how he's got an... Alarming amount of dialogue regarding losing patient worries? Yeah... His nightmare would essentially be Frankenstein... Except Harvey's Victor. Which would just go SO POORLY... Let's all revel for a bit in how beautifully poorly that would go... 💕

-Maru: Maru makes the Blob, Blob destroys half the town. Pretty cut and dry, honestly. Just... Blob. 💕

-Penny: The children are being replaced during the night by doppelgangers. Wrong, unsettling doppelgangers. You and Penny investigate why, taking you into the sewers (IT WON'T BE KROBUS BEHIND IT, I PROMISE, I WOULDN'T DO THAT TO KROBIE 😭)

-Shane: SO, things are being destroyed in the night, sometimes animals turn up dead, town's getting freaked out, you're tasked with investigating because sorry you're the main character lmao. Turns out Shane's therapist is hypnotizing Shane and he's getting programmed to go do these things during the night YAY! Poor guy.

-Sebastian: Here, have this, we all know you want it! *tosses vampire Sebastian at you*. (I'm not particularly fond of Sebastian, in all honesty, but I'm sure vampire Sebastian would make his fans V Happy lmao. Yes, you'd get to let him drink from you, you freaks. /aff)

-Leah: ...Kel's a slasher now? (Sorry, I don't particularly care for Leah either, but hey. I assume you guys enjoyed punching Kel. You'll probably enjoy killing Kel in a brutal battle of self defense right?)

-Elliott: Ya'll seen Creepshow? (*Everyone starts groaning because I haven't shut up about Creepshow since the green rain*) Okay, there's a story where Leslie Neilsen (Naked Gun, Airplane, THAT Leslie Neilsen) drowns a couple in the ocean and their corpses break into his home to get revenge. It's that except Elliott didn't kill them. Because nightmare, you and Elliott are back in his cabin on the beach, bodies are coming out of the water, and quickly becoming yours and Willy's problem. (No Willy didn't kill them either. Probably.)

-Alex: He's on a gridball team, Coach is having him take some experimental drug so he plays gridball better, something something Werewolf. Let him and Dusty run around together lmao. Except oh no he accidentally spooks the town! :(

-Abigail: LOOK. It's me, I have to reference Evil Dead somewhere. Abigail seems like she'd be the most irresponsible if handed the Necronomicon, so she's getting the Necronomicon.

AND I HAVE NO IDEAS FOR EMILY, HALEY, AND SAM NOOOO. I FAILED THEM 😭 Pretend I have great thought out ideas for them, they deserve them.

[the-lonelyshepherd]

i am curious about calliope, i feel like i know a lot about the silly cowboyes but not enough about her, what’s she like what’s her story

CALLIEEEEE!!!

the reason i dont post/draw her as much as the cowboyes (yeehaw) is because shes newer, less developed, and deals with a lot of like. directly touchy subjects for myself. also her design changes every 2 days but she does get more decrepit and more middle aged man looking every design lmfao (she is a . newly 18 year old girl.) im just going to say words now its going to be a mess brace yourself

she herself is kind of a mess her whole concept is that she was kind of Weird but like. normaled out. joined the track team. was good at it. was like. kind of in with the crowd. and then it all starts falling apart.

she was very quiet and then very "shut up and go with it" for most of her life and now shes like a confused paranoid wreck because like. she can contain the horrors no longer. shes kind of a dick sometimes kind of unaware of a lot of stuff VERY confused about her entire situation probably iron deficient and oh so very tired. its a very "i dont recognize myself in the mirror but maybe i never knew who i really was" type of story

im still working on the exact rules of the werewolfism ,,,,,,, but im leaning towards making it NOT actually from a bite. for my secret evil Reasons.

originally the plan was to have her be aroace and have a whole Thing about that but now im leaning more towards simply aro (wether that be aroallo or non SAM aro im not sure yet but leaning towards the latter).

she also does llike. experience hallucinations and delusions and paranoid spells like outside of the whole werewolf thing. theyre two seperate problems she has . very confusing and awful for her lmao

the story is more of a vibe and a few scenes than solid right now but its like. setting building (track, friendgroup, home life) -> fakeout (dog bite) -> actually initiating problem (theres several versions of this and im not sure which one im doing yet) -> she has to LEAVE and everything gets fucking crazy and there is no structure beyond this point minus random scenes and throwaway characters (roadkill, hospital, living room, van, cliff,,,,,, idk theres a lot of random scenes, probably something w/her brother )

im. very incoherent aand tired rn but i love her lots and if you wanna get a good idea of Her . then the best i have is her pinterest board

GRIINNNN tysm for asking about her im sorry if this makes no sens e😭

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Sympathy For Wolves: Werewolf!Blackwatch!Cole Cassidy x Fem!Reader

Chapter 4: The Anger

“He has the sign of the beast on him.” ~ Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman

Morrison didn’t look back from the paperwork in his hands.

“Thirty-four of my agents went into those woods, and thirty-four ended up dead,” Morrison didn’t even bother to turn around to speak to them face-to-face. “Agents that I had to send there to recover the bodies of my deceased agents counted dozens of Talon agents strewn about, dead as well. All of the bodies were reportedly not killed by gunfire by the other party, but by animal attacks.” Morrison finally turned around, tossing the papers he had been looking at onto the meeting room table. Photos of mutilated corpses and animal prints in the mud as well of the breaking down facility scattered across the table before them all. Morrison planted both hands against the polished oak wood of the tabletop, brows lowered and nostrils flaring slightly. “What the hell happened at that base?”

The frown planted on Morrison’s face had Cole wanting to shrink back into the chair as if he were a kid in the principal’s office.

Both Genji and Moira appeared emotionless as they blankly stared at Morrison, Genji almost looking bored where as Moira looked exhausted.

But Gabriel wasn’t paying attention to Morrison’s stern face, he just set the folders down on the table and went through the pages with a red pen making marks here and there.

“Reyes,” Morrison warned/

“You said it yourself, Morrison,” Reyes finally looked up from the folders, “an animal did that.”

Reyes looked agitated, brows arched and lips pulled in a frown.

“Do you even want to explain what the hell happened? Because at this point I have one entire team to bury and I would like to know what happened so I can give my condolences to their families.”

Reyes barked a laugh.

“If they’ll believe you.”

Morrison was taken back by Reyes’ statement, finally unwinding himself from the grand table.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Reyes took one folder from his little pile and slid it towards Morrison, the strike commander opening it to see a few papers stamped with a Talon symbol and one photo. Cole couldn’t see much of it from where he sat, but he could make out that there was a looming and dark figure on it. Morrison’s eyes widened at the photo before him, carefully brushing it away to look at the papers before him.

“We got split up in there by Talon soldiers, don’t know where Shimada or O’Deorain ended up, but I found one of their shitty makeshift labs. They were experimenting on some poor soul they snatched out of Seattle, trying to make some kind of sick abomination.”

“And Cassidy?” Morrison glanced up to where the cowboy sat.

“If you even cared to drop by the medbay, you would know he was a human squeaky toy to that thing. He got mauled nearly to death Morrison, he was released last night. Do I need to make him stand up to show you the oozing black wound he has on his shoulder? Or maybe his ankle that’s still swollen and scabbed?”

The frown on his face grew tighter, the strike commander’s nostrils flaring. His pale face was starting to redden with rage. Here was the strike commander of Overwatch getting spoken to by the sarcastic leader of Blackwatch.

“Where did it go?”

“Hell if I know,” Reyes started to go through papers again. “By the time the three of us got there, Cole had already done quite a number to it. Even took out one of its eyes.”

“You expect me to believe that something straight out of a horror movie killed a whole team of Overwatch soldiers and a whole Talon base? And only Cassidy survived?”

“It’s the truth, Morrison. Until Dr. Zeigler invents some kind of machine to go through memories, the proof is in the photos and the Talon lab reports in front of you.” Morrison’s proud and broad shoulders sank a bit, he was defeated. “Now can my agents go now? I’m sure Cole would love to get back to resting unless you wanna do a full body inspection on his wounds?”

He was freezing as the rain kept coming. His clothes were soaked and he was wet to the bone. His boots were all muddy, spurs yanked off by the unforgiving roots of the trees, hat sadly taken by the storm’s winds. He was shivering worse than a dog in the rain.

He could smell how wet everything was; the grass, the trees, the freshly churned mud by the storm. He could smell something else though: Blood. It cut through the smell like a knife, leaving a putrid memory stuck in his nose to the point where he wanted to double over and vomit.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t allow himself to be hunted down and slaughtered like a lamb.

He could hear it just barely over the rainfall, its’ lumbering footsteps in the near-darkness, its’ snarling and snuffling, its’ fur shaking when it got too wet. He saw brief glimpses of it in the trees, its hulking body passing in the shadows like a wraith, its one yellow eye gleaming at him with hunger, its fangs and claws shining in the night.

There were carcasses of animals strewn around the forest floor, guts and blood strewn about the grass. The smell of their corpses made him gag, the sight was even worse to behold. He’s seen animals gored and all, but nothing to this degree.

His finger was steady on the trigger, just a bit more force and he would fire off his last round. He was pressed up against a tree, his back biting against the mossy bark. His hair had been flattened against his skull, sticking to his face and neck. He strained his ears, stilled his breathing, kept his eyes steady on the line of trees surrounding him.

He couldn’t tell where he was, he didn’t know where it was either. All he could see was the lush greenery surrounding him, the trees towering over him that made him feel insignificant to the rest of the world. He could only tell two things: One, he was alone in the middle of nowhere with a monster hunting him down. Two, he was fucked because one bullet would not do shit to help him right now in the state he was in right now.

He was trembling without meaning too, body soaked cold as his vision swayed. How long had he been out here? How long was he alone? How long had he been hunted by this thing?

He wanted to run, make a break for it in the trees. He wanted to shout, scream out for help for whoever may be around. He wanted to scream at the beast lurking somewhere in the shadows, wave his gun around and fire off his last bullet. Even if he knew he was fucked and was going to die to it, he wanted to take out its other eye too.

A little part of him deep down wanted to almost just let it kill him, let it all be over with.

His eyes were tired, dry and red and straining from constantly looking around so frantically. He grit his teeth, brushing the wet strands of hair out of his face, pushing himself away from the tree.

“I’m right here, fucker! Come an’ get me!” he shouted, waiving around Peacekeeper.

He heard a twig snap, eyes snapping to the location as he raised his gun. He saw the hulking figure of the beast in the trees, its frame becoming bigger as he realized it was rushing towards him. Its lanky arms tearing apart the trees and branches around it, claws slicing through the wood as its feet tried to gain traction on the slippery mud. Its one remaining eye was trained on Cole as it cleared the line of trees. 

It lunged at Cole as he fired his last bullet.

He was shocked out of his daydream - or day-nightmare at this point to find himself still in his bedroom.

The scarring had nearly faded fully by the time his leave was up. The sickly blacks and purples fixed onto his shoulder and arm and ankle had faded into a prominent yellowy color. He had regained his hearty tan and had finally started to look like he wasn’t about to keen over and die should he cough. He wasn’t exhausted, in fact, he felt pent up from being mostly in his personal quarters for too long. He had been pacing nearly all day yesterday, back and forth he went when you weren’t in the room. Every time he even thought about leaving he could hear Angela’s stern voice barking at him to get back into bed and rest up.

He should have been listening to her. He should have been resting.

Hell, he would have abused the fact that he was on leave for a week, but he didn’t know why he didn’t.

He felt caged.

He felt anxious just being in his own room for so long, his getaway from the missions and the order barking and the wretched gyms he would be going back to only to get flattened by an agent three times his size again.

He was in his room again, pacing. He was told in a briefing on his holopad to wait for instructions from Reyes on what to do for today, but it was nearly two in the afternoon and he still hadn’t heard anything from his commander.

You weren’t here either.

You were when he woke up, tangled with you in the warm flannel-styled sheets, breathing in your scent through his nose. He never wanted the moment to end, but as always, you were called by Morrison for help with some random bullshit work for you to do. You had dropped by the room whenever you got a moment; bringing him breakfast and even a light lunch, checking up on him.

He paced from one wall to the next, tapping his knuckles on one dingy gray wall to only pace in the opposite direction to tap his knuckle on the other wall. The thought of him somehow burning a hole through the hardwood floors barely crossed his mind.

It felt suffocating being in his room for so long, he almost wanted to throw open the window and leap outside despite it being quite a way down.

He wanted to leave his room on his own terms. He had left his room a few times in the week, sure, but it was directly to either Angela’s lab or Moira’s where they would take blood, run a few tests, and send him back. Angela had stated he looked as though he had been healing perfectly, and would give him her medical advice to rest and relax and to not stress himself and send him off. Moira, however, wouldn’t say much when she was finished with him. Cole didn’t trust Moira as far as he could spit, he knew she was nothing but bad news from all that he’s heard about her. He wanted to refuse to let her do tests and checkups on him, but one look from Reyes would settle him immediately. She had been asking him a lot of odd questions lately too; Any strange dreams? Any sudden emotional bouts? Any odd cravings?

A chill ran up Cole’s spine as he thought about all of the things she could be doing with his blood and whatever other things she could take. And now with her asking these questions and not giving an explanation as to why just made his blood want to freeze.

He felt his heart pounding in his ears as he stalked into the bathroom, feeling queasy all of a sudden. He felt sweaty and cold at the same time, he felt his hands trembling and his knees shaking. He felt like he was trapped in a box being sent down the river, like a kid put in a dark closet during a timeout.

He couldn’t breathe, the room was spinning, he felt like he was suddenly about to vomit again.

A light flashed from the end table and a sharp chirp emitted from behind him, catching his attention immediately. Cole flung himself towards the holo tech, grabbed it with waiting hands, and came face to face with the order he had been waiting for since he was allowed back into his room for rest.

A message.

A glorious message spelling freedom for Cole from Reyes.

‘Come to the practice range when you get a moment. Be in uniform.’

Cole never undressed faster in his life, throwing off the sweaty black t-shirt he had been wearing along with his red sleep pants, and changing into his tight Blackwatch-issued training fatigues and boots.

He was out the door, leaving behind whatever else that didn’t spell out his freedom.

He jogged his way there, down long corridors and downstairs, avoiding elevators and nearly running poor Overwatch members over in his excitement to get the hell out of dodge.

He pushed open the heavy metal doors of the practice range immediately spotting Reyes on the wrestling mats. He could smell them from where he stood, they still had not changed. Faded blue mats that barely cushioned the fall nor helped in the fact someone bigger and heavier is pinning you down. He could smell the sweat, it was so pungent he wanted to gag, the stench clung to the back of his throat as he walked towards Reyes.

The Blackwatch commander was in his own Blackwatch-issued training fatigues, hugging against the commander firmly, showing off all that goes into making a super soldier for the United States Army. Cole felt sorry for Reyes for having to through all of that, he’d only heard bits and pieces from his boss from time to time. Not sleeping for days on end, being starved and deprived of water. It was awful.

But there was Reyes before him, arms crossed nonchalantly, waiting patiently for him to arrive, watching some Overwatch recruits wrestle on the mats beside him.

Upon seeing Cole, Reyes’ eyebrows raised in slight shock.

“You got here fast. Eager to train?” Reyes eyed the cowboy.

“Guess ‘m too pent up from being inside for too long,” he shrugged.

Reyes gave him another once-over look before nodding to his shoulder.

“You good to do this? I saw Angela’s reports saying you’re good to come back and all, but… I didn’t wanna rush you back after the mauling you took.”

Reyes was actually concerned for him? The world must be healing finally.

“Aww shucks, boss, ya care for me?” Cole teased.

Reyes gave Cole the look a father would give to his misbehaving son.

“What I care about is not being down another man,” Reyes rolled his eyes. The commander placed the clipboard he was holding down and gave Cole another once over. “Are you sure you’re in good condition to train?”

“As long as I ain’t gettin’ flattened by that freak of nature over there,” Cole pointed his thumb behind his shoulder where he could hear Reinhardt’s booming laughter.

Glancing over his shoulder, Cole could spy the mountain of a man wrestling on the bare metal floor in the middle of the range with three poor and very unfortunate souls crushed against his rock-hard body. One trapped under each arm, biceps crushing their necks and their heads pressing against his sweaty Overwatch leotard, and one even worse soul trapped under one of his legs. Reinhardt’s laughter boomed through the range and Cole could spy Morrison past one of his shoulders with a face dead cold as always, nose in the clipboard as he kept scribbling down whatever it was he needed.

“No,” Reyes chuckled softly, “it’s just you and me- Unless you want to be wrestled into Reinhardt’s sweaty pits?”

“Forget it!”

Reyes stepped forward onto the mat before Cole, his face was emotionless as he stood still, relaxed.

“Ready?” he asked one more time, brows raised slightly.

“Yeah-”

Reyes had tackled Cole out of nowhere, his big hands grabbing onto Cole by the biceps and twisted him around. Suddenly wrapping his arms around Cole, he hoisted the poor cowboy up and brought him down against the mat.

Reyes had pinned him to the mat, his chest pressing into the smelly old pads just hard enough he could still breathe- barely. The commander brought one knee up to plant it square on the middle of his back, putting just enough pressure to ensure Cole stayed pinned. Reyes didn’t stay too long on top of Cole, getting over after a few seconds, and placed a hand on Cole’s broad shoulder, helping him to stand back up.

Cole was dumbfounded. He went down that fast? He could normally hold out against his boss, but this fast? He didn’t move for a moment until Reyes made his presence known again.

Reading his face, Reyes raised a brow.

“You okay? I didn’t slam you down that hard, did I?” he half-joked.

“‘M fine,” Cole nodded. “Just didn’ think that would happen again.”

He felt something twisting in his gut, something mean and ugly but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t jealousy or hurt pride, but something… primal?

“You’ve been out of the loop for almost two and a half weeks. It’s bound to be like this while you’re on bed rest this long. That’s why I’m the one helping.” Reyes firmly pat Cole on the back once. “Morrison wanted to oversee it himself, but I thought it would be best to do it like this, yeah?” Cole nodded quietly before his boss. “Ready for more?”

Despite the bitter taste bubbling in the back of his throat and the twisting feeling inside of him, Cole nodded again only to be met with the same fate.

Before he could act, the Blackwatch commander grabbed Cole by his left arm this time, dragging him close and spun him around, dropping him to the ground, and rolling him onto his back in the process. Cole reached up to grab his boss’ shoulders to roll on top of him but the commander anchored his weight on top of the poor cowboy, leaving him pinned on his back.

Cole huffed and ground his teeth in annoyance.

Reyes only chuckled and stood up, offering a hand to Cole. He didn’t have much of a choice in taking it as Reyes grabbed onto him and hoisted him up.

The feeling in his gut started to boil inside of him. Bitter rage crawled up his throat, his nose twitched with anger and his brows furrowed.

Reyes didn’t even ask the third time, he just outright latched on and pinned Cole.

Over.

And over.

And over.

And over to the dingy blue mats that smelled of sweat and poor body hygiene.

The feeling inside of him had finally boiled over that when Reyes went to help Cole up with a shit-eating cocky ass grin on his face, Cole lunged. He placed one hand on Reyes’ chest and scrunched up the fatigues at his chest and hoisted him into the air out of blind rage. Cole slammed Reyes down onto the mat out of nowhere and stood above him, the look of pure hatred and rage scrunching up on his face as Reyes let out a bark of surprise. Cole pressed down harder against Reyes, starting to crush his back into the stiff mats as Reyes tried to free himself under Cole.

“Cassidy!” Reyes ordered. The sudden boom of the commander’s voice shocked Cole right out his anger-fueled bout of violence. He snapped off like a light switch, looking down at his boss in a mixture of confusion and horror at what he was doing. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He quickly uncurled his fingers from Reyes’ fatigues, his boss quickly scooting away from Cole to try to stand.

Looking around, he could eyes on him; Questioning and worried, but some of them gave him a look of disgust. Especially when he saw Morrison coming over, hands balled at his waist and giving him a look that you would give a dog that just pissed on your shoes. Looking back at Reyes for a brief moment, to see he was shocked, looking at Cassidy warily.

The anger still bubbled inside of him, churning his guts and making him feel awfully nauseous.

He could only do the one thing he could think of at a time like this: He ran.

He booked it out of the range, dodging questioning Overwatch members and ignoring both Morrison and Reyes calling for him.

It was dark when he returned to the range.

The boiling rage inside of him had not settled at all, especially after the shock wore off from what he did to that poor recruit.

It was if something had taken control over his body as he stood in the open doorway to the range, allowing the doors to shut behind him before he marched down the ramp and hooked around a corner to the right. He headed for the wrestling mats again, the putrid smell of sweat and caked-on layers of body odor didn’t seem to bother him this time, he instead just marched off to the side where he came face to face with the punching bags lined up in a row, all hanging from chains.

He flicked on the light switch without thinking to do so and stalked toward one of the bags.

They were all made of leather, ten of them spaced out perfectly as per the strict building regimens put in place way before Morrison was the strike commander. The leather was stained to be that very obvious Overwatch blue; freedom blue he’s heard it been called. There was an Overwatch logo painted on each bag towards the bottom. They had all been well taken care of over the years, patches and stitchings and repainting had been done to hide how much time had passed since these bags had been here.

Cole had stalked towards one towards the middle, stopping just barely a foot away from the bag hanging without motion. He stared down the bag, right at the Overwatch logo towards the bottom of the bag with a thousand-yard stare. His brows were furrowed with frustration, hands balled at his sides.

He was still boiling with rage, practically radiating off of him in waves. He shook with every breath he released, nostrils flared.

His big bare fist slammed against the stiff blue leather, throwing it as a right hook. Flesh slapped against leather, pain tingled only for a second in his knuckles. The bag swung from its chain, spinning and swaying with the chain. Cole didn’t give it enough time to cease its swinging before he slammed his fist against the bag again, his left hand feeling the same tingle as before.

He threw his fists out one after another, bare skin smacking against the leather, each blow sending sparks of pain up his hands and his arms, but the pain didn’t faze him.

With every punch, he could see it.

That thing that tore into him.

The putrid yellow eyes, the big jagged teeth, the razor-sharp claws; All haunting him day and night, in his dreams and in his life. Coming towards him, hunting him like he were prey, stalking him in the night, haunting his dreams. It was enough to drive someone mad!

He kept slamming his fists quickly into the leather, gritting his teeth as the pain started to radiate from his knuckles. They were bruising from being bare, fingers aching as though they would snap if he kept going.

Cole coiled his right arm back and slammed it into the punching bag when he heard something break followed by something very heavy falling to the floor.

It was almost like he was snapped out of his rage as soon as the punching bag hit the matted floor. Cole was taken back by the sudden heaviness in his chest and the fuzzy feeling in his head. He was shocked when he realized what he had done and where he was.

The sound echoed throughout the empty range like a clap of thunder, it was something that wanted to rattle the room he was in.

He felt the crackling pain in his hands, his knuckles were split open and blood was starting to slowly pearl out, his hands would surely be bruised within the hour, he could feel the pulled muscles in his arms.

Cole knelt quickly before the punching bag, cursing to himself when he saw the sand pouring out between the holes he had caused. He was dumbfounded when he saw that it wasn’t holes, but slices made into the leather, four of them, splitting it open.

He felt a knot forming in his gut. Looking around nervously, Cole stood quickly and backed away slowly from the bag until his back hit a metal wall.

He booked it; right out of the range through one of the side doors, cursing to himself quietly as he turned tail and ran.

It was the echoing boom that had caught his attention. He had been leaving one of the recreational comfort rooms, a towel around his waist and the other draped over his shoulders when the sound came echoing through the hallway. He had been thinking of what had happened earlier with Cassidy, still rubbing the center of his chest where Cole had grabbed as he could remember the look of rage on his face.

But he was confused at first.

It was nearly in the middle of the night, barely anyone would be awake at this point, let alone in the wing he was in.

Choosing not to dress yet, Reyes poked his head out of the doorway of the comfort room to look in the hallway. The lights were dimmed to not be blistering during the night. No other doors were opened beside his, and no lights were on under the closed doors.

He stepped out into the hallway fully, looking down from one end of the hallway to the other. There was a cold draft of wind breezing past him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Hello?” he called. He received no answer, just his voice echoing in the silent halls. “Who’s there?”

Still no answer.

Reyes started down one end of the hall from where he thought he heard the noise come from, the large practice range stashed to the brink with guns and ammunitions of weapons (and where he would love to watch Cassidy get flattened by Reinhardt again). Everything seemed to be just fine. Training robots were powered down, the lockers were all locked and closed tight, and weapons were stashed where they needed to be.

As he turned to leave, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Illumination.

There was light pooling in on the floor just barely in sight.

Reyes stalked forward, moving like a wraith in the vast training room, hugging close to the walls where he could before he got to the corner.

He couldn’t hear anything coming from around the corner. No training bots left on, no breathing, nothing swaying, or whatever could be happening. It was deathly silent.

Had someone just forgotten to turn the light off after they left? Then what was that boom?

Swallowing, Reyes peeled from the wall to walk out into the light, ready to reprimand whoever it was that could still be there only to stop in his place.

There was a punching bag on the floor, the large blue bag beaten and lumpy now on its side. Reyes approached, suddenly confused as to what happened. Looking around, he couldn’t make out anyone’s presence, but it was clear that someone had done this.

He stood before it, looking at the chain now broken on top of the punching bag, metal chipped so bad that one link had snapped in two, breaking it off from the horizontal bar running from the low ceiling of this area.

Had someone beaten this thing so badly that they broke it off the chain? And just left it? Filled with annoyance now, Reyes cursed to himself as he crouched down next to the punching bag, wanting to at least move it out of the way before he stopped.

Sand was all over the floor.

How had he not seen it? Sand had spilled out from the back of the punching bag, and whoever did it didn’t even bother to clean it up.

Reyes muttered even more curses to himself (mostly about now having to check the cameras since whoever did it had fled) as he reached down and grabbed the bag by what was left of the chain. Before he could hoist it up, he saw that it had not been busted somewhere along the back seam, but scratched.

Four long gashes were cut into the thick polished leather, four clean cuts that had somehow penetrated into the thick leather and sliced perfectly into the bag. They pierced right through, he had never seen anyone able to do something like that in his time being here. Sure, both he and Morrison have been known to make a hole in them here and there, hell, even Reinhardt punched one the only time he was allowed to and nearly obliterated the thing. But slice through? In four lines all spaced out like this?

Reyes got close, slowly reaching his hand out to touch them, fingertips spreading so each one would line up with each slice. A shiver ran up his spine. He remembered that night in Washington at the trashed Overwatch camp, the big hover truck tipped over with four gashes through the ripped metal.

A feeling of dread washed over the Blackwatch commander.

Reyes stood up and looked around, finding he was still all by himself, leaving him all alone and dumbfounded in the silent range.

[cipheramnesia]

You seem like the right person to ask. Can you recommend some horror movies that are about women turning into monsters? I saw Bite the other day and there's something incredibly satisfying about seeing the protagonist have all these problems with her personal life and instead of dealing with them like a responsible adult she turns into a giant bug and starts laying eggs in people.

I feel like I'm missing out on some because every time I get an ask about a really niche horror area my mind goes blank.

Anyway, not to state the obvious but Ginger Snaps (and the sequel) is a widely renowned werewolf movie about a teenage girl turned werewolf, which is about on the nail as you can get. If you're feeling adventurous you can also plow your way through the entire Howling series, which is sort of hit or miss on the werewolf makeup but the hits are pretty solid.

Species is also on the nose but, well, it's embarrassingly bad. Like, you'll be in there and thinking it's not so bad, but right around the time the alien hunter team comes in the whole thing nose-dives. Not mention the appalling job converting H.R. Giger's practical designs into CGI. Oddly enough the sequel is tolerable, with a mix of genuine camp, some genre savvy self awareness, and most of all practical effects during some of the more grotesque transformation sequences.

And speaking of grotesque transformation sequences, Bad Blood: The Movie (2017) delivers an impressively goopy and grotesque practical effects drive transformation of a woman into a frog monster. Bad Blood falls in that realm of "this is not good but everyone is trying really hard, they went for broke with the gore and glop, and they're all having a really good time so it's actually fucking great," It's a bit of a hidden gem of low budget horror.

And speaking of a repeated transition phrase, the low budget SheBorg movie feature an evil alien robot lady who goes around transforming people into other alien cyborgs with the plan eating an entire puppy farm and also taking over the world and then the universe. The only people who can stop their evil plan are a bunch of badly organized and not too brilliant Australian punk rockers. If you don't mind the sight of stuffed dog toys covered in fake blood being "eaten" this one is also pretty marvelous.

Traveling all the way back to the 1980s, the giallo classics Demons and Demons 2 feature multiple people transformed into murderous demon zombie creatures and they, y'know, go on rampages like one does. If you know and like or love the giallo genre chances are you saw these already but if not what are you waiting for? If you have no idea what a giallo movie is, these are going to feel very weird and also maybe pretty bad.

And just when you thought you'd seen the last of this transitional phrase, speaking of zombie, the Wormwood series (Road of the Dead, and Apocalypse) feature several women who become a sort of synthesis of zombie and human, developing unique abilities. They're just fantastic movies, bonkers combinations of zombie movies and apocalypse movies and the Mad Max movies. Whenever you hear any kind of accent out of Australia or New Zealand the chance of the movie being completely over the top fun go up by 75%.

Some runner up movies I think worth noting where there is no transformation per se, but the woman involved is for all purposes already a monster would be The Woman, Some Kind of Hate, and of course the obligatory recommendation of She Never Died,

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

How Summer Rose Became The Werewolf MILF We All Didn’t Know We Needed

I drank the werewolf wine again so now you’re all going to hear about the Summer Rose Grimm werewolf agenda —

OKAY. So we have presumably all noticed the show’s Highly Suspicious way of never saying that Summer actually died: it’s always “took,” “left,” “lost,” “gone,” etc. We’re just going to accept it as a fact that she’s alive.

(To be clear, I don’t believe Summer is or has ever been in the Ever After, considering the questionable reality of the Blacksmith’s first appearance/the effects of Ruby’s mental state on her surroundings in the second.) 

In the past, I’ve flirted with the theories that Summer is A) stuck in suspended animation at the bottom of a Grimm pool, or B) trapped as a prisoner in Evernight while Salem feeds off the residual magic in her body, but in recent times I’ve come to be backing the horrible bastard child of both theories.

C) Summer was Grimmified after failing to defeat Salem and, her spirit entirely broken, is now working as her right-hand werewolf to help her end the world because she believes putting Remnant out of its misery is her only option.

Stay with me, here we go.

First off  — Why did Summer go to Evernight in the first place?

As Qrow told us, nobody but Summer knows why she left on her last mission, which was apparently not one that Ozpin assigned her. And as Salem told us, when she met and defeated Summer, Summer told her some variation of, “We don't have to kill you to stop you. And we will stop you.”

Silver eyes don’t just kill Grimm. They can also freeze them in permanent stasis. What if Summer got it into her head that she could try and stop Salem that way? Hell, maybe she could even vaporize the Grimm pits along with her! Oz doesn’t believe that she can be stopped directly, only held off, so I don’t believe that that’s a plan of action he would have tried. 

But Qrow was right about Summer: she takes the information that Oz gave her, and takes it further. Salem must be killing Silver-Eyed Warriors for a reason: the most obvious one must be that her powers are the key to defeating her. And even leaving aside the very good chances that the only other Silver-Eyed Warrior she knows is her toddler daughter...

She’s the leader, isn’t she? The hero. She’s supposed to take care of everything, help everyone. Now that the idea occurred to her, how is she supposed to turn her back on a whole world that needs her?

(Ruby, with the deepest of sighs: “unfortunately, same hat, Mom”)

If she succeeds, the world will be safe, forever. Her daughters will never have to go through what she and her team have, make the kind of choices she has to make now.

So without her boss or her teammates’ knowledge, off Summer goes to Battle Tendency this bitch, hoping against hope that she’s finally found the answer.

Raven, sitting judgmentally in a tree watching her go:

What happened at Evernight?

We can all guess where this went.

Summer at the door of Evernight Castle:

Salem, who was enjoying a nice cup of tea and a book before this human came trying to assassinate her: what the fuck is going on down there

Summer tries to fight her and quickly finds out that she’s in over her head: Salem gives her the bad news that, surprise, she can’t be killed, didn’t Ozpin tell you, girl?

He did not, but Summer keeps trying: she doesn’t need to kill her to stop her, after all.

I have an image of her managing to Silver-Eye the Grimm out of Salem, and Salem diving right back into the pool of Destruction to power herself up again, but I’ve got no evidence to back that up, I just think that’s what would horrify poor Summer the most. 

In the struggle, Summer gets thrown into the Grimm pool too, but to her own horror and Salem’s surprise, it doesn’t kill her like it would any other human.

Divine cannot kill the divine, only alter it. Because of the God of Light’s power inside her, the Grimm pool doesn’t kill Summer, but transforms her into a Grimm hybrid. Salem hasn’t been shocked in eons, but she certainly is watching this horror unfold in front of her.

Salem realizing she can do something new with this interesting little anomaly: 

Summer: [SCREAMS OF THE ETERNALLY DAMNED]

Grimm Symbolism

First of all, in “The End of the Beginning,” the scene cuts straight from Summer’s grave, which we know damn well is empty, to Evernight:

It’s pretty obvious where Summer went, and where she actually is.

Second of all, it was pointed out to me that not only does the Grimm color scheme match Team RWBY’s (red, white, yellow, and black are the only ones visible on all of the Grimm), but Summer’s as well:

So far as I can tell, Summer and the Grimm are the only characters to incorporate all four colors into their designs. In any other show I would ignore that, but in RWBY, color symbolism is everything, so it deserves at least a mention.

Does she still have her powers?

That’s completely up in the air for me, and no possible option is any better than the others for Grimm!Summer.

Option 1: she still has her Silver Eyes, but can’t actually use their power.

Option 2: she still has her Silver Eyes, and is still able to use her powers, but at the cost of badly hurting herself thanks to her new, vulnerable Grimm body.

Option 3: she doesn’t have her Silver Eyes at all anymore, and forget about the powers: a Grimm can’t use anti-Grimm abilities by its very nature.

I’m also still up in the air as to what her eyes might look like now that she’s transformed. Personally, I’m picturing her with silver eyes with black sclera: a full moon in a pure black night.

On the other hand, if her eyes were turned red like a Grimm’s or Salem’s, that’s a blood moon!

Why do you think any of this in the first place? Why couldn’t she just be a Hound?

Because of the Unspoken Plan Guarantee. Ruby’s already caught on that something is going on:

So it’s all but guaranteed that when we finally meet Summer, it’s going to be a whole lot worse than what Ruby’s already assuming. 

Right now, Ruby thinks that the worst possible way she can find her mother is as a mindless Hound. So the show is going to have to bump the stakes of her eventual reveal up considerably in order to keep it a good surprise. If the audience is already clued into the fact that she’s been transformed into a Grimm, the twist will be that unlike the Hound, she’s kept her mind and is working for Salem willingly. 

(Incidentally, this is also the reason why not just anyone other than Oz can destroy Salem: because Nora brought that exact possibility up in “A Night Off”):

...Okay, but why a fucking werewolf?

I’m glad you asked! Not only do werewolves absolutely fuck but there is a boatload of symbolism backing up the idea. 

Wolf Symbolism

Among all the corvids and dragons running around in this family, it’s easy to overlook the general wolfiness surrounding Summer and Ruby both, from several different directions.

Little Red Riding Hood

It’s been obvious from volume 1 that one of Ruby’s allusions is Little Red Riding Hood. So isn’t it suspicious that, in volume 9, we’ve seen neither hide nor hair of her Big Bad Wolf?

Clearly, none of the villains we’ve seen so far fit, not even the Hound, who didn’t have the autonomy and was finished off too quickly to be on the wolf’s level. Especially if she ascends to become the Woodsman of her own story as well, it’s long past time for that story’s villain to show up. Summer tried to become the Woodsman herself, taking her axe and slaying the villain so Red Riding Hood could live in peace, but was consumed by and became the Wolf instead.

(And since we do have one character who fits pretty well into the role of Red’s grandmother, who is also eaten by the Wolf...sorry, Maria, I think if you meet Summer you’re going the way of Obi-Wan.)

Odin’s Wolves

Qrow and Raven allude to Huginn and Muninn, the two ravens that Odin uses to gather knowledge from around the world, just as Ozpin gave the Branwens shapeshifting magic so they could serve as his spies. But there were four students on the team he gave special attention. What might Summer and Tai allude to in relation to Oz?

Well, Odin didn’t just have two ravens, he created two wolves as well: Geri and Freki, both of whose names translate to “greedy,” “voracious,” “gluttonous,” and such. They ran out to consume the corpses left on the battlefield (sometimes guided by Huginn and Muninn) and guide fallen souls to Valhalla, relying on Odin to give them meat rather than hunting for themselves.

Spying is only one part of a successful campaign: once you have the tactical information, you’ve got to make use of it. We’ve heard little if anything of what Summer and Tai were doing for Oz, but it’s pretty reasonable to guess that once Qrow and Raven gathered important intel, it was Summer and Tai who were dispatched to handle the situation.

Even if Summer and Tai weren’t actually given wolf shapeshifting magic, their teamwork with Raven and Qrow could easily still fit the roles of Odin’s birds and wolves.

It tracks with the real-life behavior of ravens and wolves as well:

What Do You Know About Summer Rose, Raven Branwen

Tell Us

She Has The Other Half Of Your Bracers, Raven

In addition, it has also been pointed out that Geri and Freki have more destructive counterparts: Hati and Sköll (”one who hates” and “one who mocks”), who in some versions of Norse mythology chase the moon and sun through the sky so they can eat them during Ragnarok, ending the world. (Some sources have them as the wolf Fenrir’s children, but as far as I can tell it’s not a definite thing.)

And who do we know around here who are directly symbolized by the moon and sun?

Speaking of which...

Ruby’s In On It, Too

To round all this off, according to RTX 2013���s RWBY art panel, Ruby was originally designed to be “kinda wolfy,” with gray hair that flipped up like ears/hackles to look "wild and wolf-like.”

It’s Beowolves that she’s shown fighting in the Red Trailer, and she has Beowolf models overlooking her bed:

And, more recently: what did she dress up as for Halloween (her birthday!) in the official merch?

The question is, what purpose does this imagery serve? Because Ruby’s wolfishness hasn’t been brought up directly in the show, much unlike other characters’ more blatant imagery. If this theory is correct, it’s to connect her to her Big Bad Wolf mom.

Ruby shares a certain other category of imagery with her mother as well...

Moon Symbolism

This is the more obvious symbolism associated with Summer and Ruby, just like Tai and Yang are associated with the sun. Right from the Red Trailer, the two of them have always been associated with the moon, especially the full moon. 

The moon is also notably brought up in several song lyrics in ways that could be very relevant as well — “The moon will sadly watch the roses die,” “Rising like the moon,” “Our path was clear / The moon watched safely from above", "Enemies arise and the hate is flowing / Shattering the moon and bloodying the sky,” “When there's no more light / and the moon should crumble” — but I’m not good enough at analyzing songs to go too in depth on that point.

Now, remember the pool of Destruction that Salem jumped into that turned her Grimm in the first place? What was reflected in it again?

[Eggman voice] THE MOOOOOOOOON

I might note here that my character tag for Summer isn’t “dead Moon Mom,” it’s “Dead Moon mom”: we can still swing it so that one of her character allusions is the Dead Moon (or Buried Moon, as it’s called in some versions) of English folklore.

How it goes is basically: the Moon protects travelers through England’s bogs with her light, but when she hears that without it, the people are attacked by evil creatures of the night, she descends to Earth to try and solve the problem, clad in a black hooded cloak. In saving a lost traveler, her light attracts the creatures, who bury her alive in the bog. 

The traveler eventually leads the worried people back to the bog to save the Moon, but Summer’s journey to save humanity from the Creatures of Grimm with the light of her Silver Eyes doesn’t go quite as well. She’s still buried in the bog, trapped in the body of a Grimm hybrid.

To sum it all up, combine a wolf with the full moon and what do you get?

WEREWOLF, MOTHERFUCK

So where is Summer now?

In the one place we haven’t gotten a proper look at yet. 

“Reinforce our numbers at Beacon. The Relic is there.”

It didn’t seem to me like Salem was talking to a Grimm there. Like with Leo in volume 5, somebody is on the other side of that conversation. Summer just isn’t too inclined to answer verbally: she loathes her master, but has no choice but to stay under her control.

It’s also been pointed out that Team STRQ is the Team RWBY that failed and broke down; specifically, Summer is the Ruby that lost hope and gave up, that was utterly shattered and didn’t go to the therapy dimension about it. 

The Hound(s) are an experiment, by Salem’s own description: a weapon not quite as mindless as the average Grimm but not as resentful as Summer. As a wolf, Summer is a step above them, the perfected version that Salem has been trying to recreate ever since accidentally acquiring her. 

Summer’s last ditch effort to save the world was so thoroughly crushed, every possible solution she thought to helping the ones she loves most completely lost. With those gone, the only thing she has left to offer her family and the world is the mercy of a quick death. So that’s what she’s going to give them; and to that end, here she is at the end of Salem’s leash, still fighting to end suffering in the only way she believes she can anymore.

She’s not going to be happy at all to find out that her daughters became Huntresses to follow in her footsteps (”but, baby, please don’t do what I did” / “I don’t want you to waste your life in vain” and all that), and Ruby and Yang are going to be even less happy to find out that not only is their mom alive but is now evil and wants to kill them before Salem can do worse to them. 

Absolutely nobody is happy at that family reunion except Salem, who’s watching the continued befuckening of her favorite lapdog’s life with wine and popcorn. 

How are they going to beat her?

Don’t let that header fool you, I have no actual conclusion to this post. My only solid idea re: how the actual Rose-Xiao Long-Branwen family fight might actually go is that Summer can’t be one-shotted by Ruby’s Silver Eyes like any other Grimm. She can be temporarily hurt by them, but being a Silver-Eyed Warrior herself, they can’t permanently damage, freeze, or kill her.

Cinder, rage quitting: OH COME ON THAT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR

[godsoflightmusic]

going seventeen ideas:

murder on the going express - imagine hercule boo-roit.. he would absolutely body a role like this. also good opportunity for fun outfits and outlandish character which they love... would be like bad clue train version, you get it

werewolf - this is the american (?) version of mafia but it has more roles built in and also could have a fun horror aspect to it kind of like don't lie chaser where maybe theyre separated at night and the chosen person has to like run for their lives lol idk

survivor: korea - go back to the island where they did the treasure hunt and follow typical survivor format exactly: two teams, reward and immunity challenges, the merge, the 1 mill reward, 39 days, all of it. the island could also be used for a lord of the flies type experience if that suits your tastes more

journey to the center of the earth - theyve conquered the skies in bungee jumping and the water in the TTT, next they must conquer the earth by going spelunking. idk what theyll do down there maybe theres like a pizza party or smth

seventeen goes to trade school - they all go to school for diff fields (carpentry, plumbing, electrical work, etc) and then they build a house

maze

play mermaids :3

korea's next top model parody

human tetris

zoo episode

silent library

capture the flag

deep sea exploration

mystery mystery season 2

toca hair salon

make puppets and do puppet shows

real russian roulette

the dentist episode that hoshi mentioned in going company outing

they do surgery on one another

nathan for you -> they become terrible business consultants

[yellowocaballero]

Jake Stays Up Past His Bedtime, Meets His Contemporaries, and Wants a Dog So Fucking Bad

There was a stray dog in the all-night diner.

Jake had been in the bathroom during its dynamic entry, gone unnoticed except for the loud clangs and yells from the kitchen and weirdly wet mystery noises. Diners at three am could be surprisingly noisy places, especially in the City, so Jake hadn’t registered anything until he walked into the dining area in the secluded back of the diner to see an unamused Gena standing in the doorway and a ratty, slobbering dog crouched underneath a table.

“Just what I need,” Gena condemned. “More pests.”

So the 1970s saw a huge explosion in the popularity of horror movies, especially slashers and sci-fi horror. They were big swerves from 1960s B-movie and Atomic Age/Cold War sci-fi horror, and for probably the first time horror hit huge commercial success. Although the slasher/sci-fi horror movie genres would really take off in the 1980s, they were pretty damn popular in the 1970s among the 13-18yo teen boy demographic.

As it always does, Marvel sought to capitalize on this, and it quickly churned out a small batch of spooky sci-fi horror anti-heroes who were sooo cool, man. Over the top cool. Stupid cool. It was all very Hammer Horror - werewolves, demons, vampires, oh my. Yes, this includes Mobius. Now you know why Mobius exists. It also includes Moon Knight, who first appeared in Werewolf By Night as a werewolf hunter decked in silver - the werewolf component of this Hammer Horror lineup.

Yes. The superheroes in this cheap line up of overly cool and hip anti-heroes for teenage boys were all incredibly lame. I've been meaning to do a story with all of them for ages lol. Finally found a good excuse. Here it is.

That's some history for you. This is the second installment in my half-joke teen/mid alter Jake AU. Yes, only Jake is 15. Marc's life is awful. First part linked here. Very short 7k story under the cut. Hopefully it fucking works on dark mode...?!

There was a stray dog in the all-night diner.

Jake had been in the bathroom during its dynamic entry, gone unnoticed except for the loud clangs and yells from the kitchen and weirdly wet mystery noises. Diners at three am could be surprisingly noisy places, especially in the City, so Jake hadn’t registered anything until he walked into the dining area in the secluded back of the diner to see an unamused Gena standing in the doorway and a ratty, slobbering dog crouched underneath a table.

“Just what I need,” Gena condemned. “More pests.”

Jake craned his neck to peer over her head before realizing that the waitress was pretty short and he could see cleanly over the top of her headscarf. If he looked around the dining area he could see the usual suspects - cracked vinyl booths, faded sports team pennants tacked to the wall, a clock perpetually broken, that one creepy dude always conked out in the corner with an empty pot of coffee in front of him. And the dog. “Whoah. I ain’t never seen a dog like that.”

“New York City breeds them different,” Gena said grimly. Jake nodded, equally solemn. “I’ll call animal control. We don’t need fleas in the gyros.”

The dog did look like the dog equivalent of a New York subway rat. Its coat was dark and bushy, the tight curls smeared by mud and grime. Its proportions were spindly like a jackal’s or African wild dog’s (Jake had watched a documentary), but it was thick and muscular like the pittiest pit bull to ever pit bull. It looked like it bullied other pit bulls for their lunch money. It looked like it went on bodybuilding forums, for pit bulls. It was pretty ginormous too - easily the size of a Great Dane, maybe bigger.

It was the coolest dog Jake had ever seen. He needed to be friends with it. A dog like that upped the coolness factor of his human friends by ten.

“That dog is badass,” Jake announced. “Don’t call animal control, Ms. Gena. I’m gonna talk to ‘im.”

Gena whirled on him, cell already in her hand. “You will not. Look at it, it’s obviously rabid. You stay away from that dog.”

“He’s just scared!” The dog bared its teeth, growling like a revving chainsaw. “He just needs a kindred spirit. I can totally -”

“Nope. No way.” Gena lightly put her hand on the small of his back, pushing him away from the back dining area into the front.  “You sit down, I’ll bring you a fresh plate.”

“What about my Switch -”

“I’ll get it for you later. Come on, honey, let’s sit down.”

Jake sat down, somewhat mulishly. He always caved when Gena got all nice like that. It was mostly because she wasn’t nice to anybody else like that, so he had to respect the effort. And if you didn’t respect the effort then she busted out her unimpressed voice, which was how Jake discovered he was physically capable of feeling shame. 

Gena was most of the reason why Jake felt good about coming here without Marc or Steven or Layla, even at three in the morning. The others were always nagging Jake about fronting in a public ‘controlled environment’. If there was some sort of Mid parenting manual then Layla definitely read it. Working up to ‘hanging out with Layla in the house for more than an hour at a time in a non-emergency situation’ had taken months. They had picked the diner as Jake’s Outside Place, and Layla had come and sat with him a few times until he felt confident enough to do it on his own.

Nowadays Jake even told Marc and Steven to scram, ‘cause the diner was his place. It had Gena. She always sat Jake in the emptiest part of the diner, and she always had a question about his Animal Crossing island or Minecraft base. She was nice. She could also be super mean. And if you fucked around in her diner you always found out. She was gonna scare off that stray dog by her unimpressed voice alone.

Jake felt his dog friend dreams shatter like porcelain on cement. Gena would get super mad at him if he went back in there. She’d be even madder if he got himself mauled by the coolest dog ever. The dog was cool and Jake was immortal, so he wouldn’t mind a little mauling, but he just knew it would get Gina and her diner in trouble. Steven was always preaching about being considerate, so maybe this counted. Ugh. Jake hoped Steven never found out about this. He’d get so insufferable. His idea of a pet was a goldfish, what the fuck did he know.

Snarling sounds echoed from the back room. There were only three other patrons in the front - one drunk guy in his thirties with bright blonde hair and two very old men - and neither of them seemed concerned, so at least they wouldn’t have to worry about panicky civilians with no appreciation for dope animals. 

A howl broke through the diner, cracking the air. Somebody from the kitchen cursed loudly and passionately. Jake could hear the faint strains of Gena’s voice through the back rooms, arguing passionately with animal control. He caught some vague sounds of ‘of course it’s a dog -’ before a howl split the air again. The drunk guy looked around, checking if he should give a shit about this or not. Jake poked at his Wordle game. The drunk guy went back to his chili and the infinite ruminations of his drunk-ass soul.

Just a little too late, Jake realized that they were missing a civilian. 

Gena had totally ditched the creepy guy in the corner! The man was a regular! He and Jake always took up Most Secluded Spots #1 and #2. Unlike Jake, all he did was drink coffee and mooch off Gena’s space. She always ignored him, and sometimes yelled at him to get out of there. Jake had never heard him say a word. He wore a sick-ass trench coat and sunglasses everywhere too, like he was Neo or something. New York City sure had the subway rats of people sometimes. He could get mauled if he wanted, Jake didn’t care. 

But it might get Gena in trouble. Totally unacceptable.

She’d thank him in the long run. Jake bolted up from his seat, casually speed walking to the locked doors. The drunk guy squinted at him before shrugging and returning to his drink. Jake dug in his pocket for his lockpicks (Frenchie taught a lot of very useful life skills) and opened the door in seconds, cracking it open just enough so he could stick his head inside.

The dog was looking even unhappier. Jake noticed for the first time that patches of fur were singed off, and one of its ears was nicked. It was holding one of its legs strangely, and Jake wondered if the dog had gotten into a fight before fleeing and taking shelter in the diner.

That was worrying. Jake would really hate to meet whatever won against that thing in a fight. Maybe a human was bullying it? Jake would kill them. Nothing he hated more than animal abusers. Even that Harrow jerk had helped Jake out by murdering Marc and Steven so they could spring him from that stupid sarcophagus. And he had tried to cause the apocalypse.

The dog’s teeth were bared, slobber dripping from canines as long as Jake’s hand. Its eyes rolled to the back of its head, showing almost only red-streaked white, and its body was vibrating like a chainsaw. It could have been on the cover of a heavy metal album. So cool.

Less cool. The Neo Wannabe was, somehow, still asleep in his corner booth. Jake had no idea how that was even possible. Between the howling, growling, and Jake’s earnest overtures for friendship, something had to rouse him. Man slept like the dead. 

Nothing to do. Jake carefully slipped inside the room, keeping his eyes on the dog. Its ears were perked, and it carefully tracked Jake’s movements as he slid the door shut behind him with an almost inaudible click. 

“You don’t know we’re friends yet,” Jake whispered, “but we’re totally friends.” The dog was unimpressed, and Jake turned his attention to the zombie dude in the corner. “Hermano! Wake up! Rabid dog on the loose!”

The man did not move. The dog wriggled out from underneath the table - perhaps anxious for friendship, perhaps anxious to spread rabies. 

“Hermano!” Jake hissed. “Come on!” No response. What was he expecting from the dude who slept through that howling. He gave up on the stage whispers, settling instead for gesturing furiously at the door. “Dude, will you get out of here -”

The dog prowled forward, chest heaving with shuddering gasps. Jake froze, watching it limp forwards. Injured back leg. It was walking directly towards him. 

“Uh,” Jake said. 

“Don’t move,” the sleeping man in the corner said. 

Jake turned around, stepping closer to the sleeping man. “What was that -”

A snarl echoed in Jake’s ears, and the dog pounced. It leapt straight for Jake - or maybe to Jake’s left, at the slowly swinging doors. 

It never made it. Jake barely had a second to register the movement. Something metal flashed through the air, slicing through the apex of the dog’s jump and sending it tumbling towards the ground. It skidded across the floor, hitting the leg of a table and yelping, and Jake saw that the metal projectile had been a small sword. It was buried in the dog’s side, sliding slowly out of the wound as the dog wriggled and whined. 

The man walked forward towards Jake, a katana withdrawn from who the fuck knows where in one hand and his dumb jacket slung over the other. Jake hadn’t even seen him stand up, much less throw the sword.

“I said not to move.”

“Looks like you didn’t need the rescue,” Jake said blankly. The man tilted his chin in serene acceptance of the fact that he was, actually, a complete badass. “What are you, some mall ninja?”

“I vanquish prowlers of the night,” the man intoned. He looked towards the whining dog, adjusting his grip on the katana. It wasn’t sick. Katanas were for weebs. Jake was not a weeb. Liking Sailor Moon didn’t make you a weeb. “Such as that animal.”

“You hunt animals?” Jake asked, outraged. “Like that Kraven the Hunter asshole on TV?”

The man might have blinked. It was hard to tell behind the sunglasses. “I hunt monsters.”

“Monster? That’s a dog. You totally stabbed that poor dog. He wasn’t doing anything to you!”

“It was about to maul you,” the man said, tone finally bent in incredulity. “I was doing my job.”

“What’s that job, killing dogs!”

“Monster -”

The doors slammed open, and Jake jumped as the man blinked. Gena stormed inside, absolutely unsurprised to see either of them, and stopped short only at the very stabbed dog bleeding sluggishly on her tile floor. She surveyed the scene in grim appraisal, leaving Jake to anxiously fix his hat. 

“I was tryin’a rescue him,” Jake piped up. “You totally locked him in with the dog, Ms. Gina!”

“Guess I did, didn’t I.” Gena didn’t seem very bothered by this. Jake didn’t know why he was more worried about the reputation of her establishment than she was. She seemed more focused on the man instead, who was beginning to look uncomfortable. “And why didn’t you do anything ten minutes ago?”

“I was monitoring the situation,” the man said blandly. Gena looked like she wanted to kill him a little bit. More than customer levels, less than supply truck driver levels. Woman had enemies. “It is best practice to avoid aggravating them as much as possible.”

Gena crossed her arms, ‘impressed’ levels plummeting like a rocket on its way home. “So you figured you would just chill out.”

“I was avoiding aggravating it.” The man turned an eye on Jake. His expression and tone of voice didn’t change, but he seemed faintly disapproving. “You did not. You could have died.”

“It’s a dog,” Jake said, baffled and feeling a little condescended to. “Total beast mode dog but I think I can outrun a dog.” Never mind the Green Beret stuff. He was embarrassed to mention that most of the time. And Gena would really think he was lying. Oh, and never mind the fist of justice stuff too. 

“Is it not a dog?” Gena asked, equally baffled and slightly reproachful. “If you brought more of your crazy shit into my diner, Blade -”

“I had nothing to do with this.”

“Really? This isn’t a vampire dog?”

“You know those don’t exist.”

“I knew the vampire mafia didn’t exist until you told me that you needed to sleep on my couch for a week.”

“Can I hold your sword?” Jake asked hopefully. Katanas were totally cringe, but…katana.

“No.” Blade turned back to Gena, completely oblivious to how close to death he tread. “Do you have any silver on you? A blessed blade isn’t going to keep it down for long.”

Jake pointed at the much longer Western sword strapped across his back. How did the guy even sit. “Can I hold that -”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a blessed blade.”

“Are you some kind of Catholic or something?” Jake asked. “I don’t fuck with Catholics. Like, no offense.”

“Considering how you stole all of Nanny’s silver necklaces, I do not own any silver.” Gena shot a glance at the twitching dog on the floor. Sure enough, it was stirring. The sword - sorry, ‘blessed blade’ - was lying on the ground next to it in a small puddle of thick black ichor. Jake wondered if he could snatch it in the confusion. “It did survive you waving around one of your little swords. Maybe it is an evil dog. So can you make yourself useful for once and -”

“The dog’s evil?” Jake asked, crushed. “Ms. Gena, dogs can’t be evil. There’s no such thing as a bad dog, just a bad owner. Are you really gonna let your friend kill an innocent animal?”

“Not my friend,” Gena said. “I barely know him.” Jake stared at her blankly, and she sighed. “Blade’s a paranoid freak who only spends time in establishments where he knows the proprietor won’t sell out his location to the ‘vampire mafia’ or whatever.” The air quotes were palpable. “I still don’t think the vampire mafia’s real so I let him crash here when he’s recovering from his long path of justice or whatever.” Jake’s blank stare did not abate. “He’s my half-brother.”

Blade shifted uncomfortably. “You should not spread that around. I can’t afford for the Society to know my weak points.”

“Oh, I’m the weak link here?”

“An animal society?” Zoological Association of America, perhaps?  “What kind of messed up life are you living, hermano?”

“I’m a vampire hunter,” Blade stressed. “I cleanse the world of the night stalkers.”

“It’s still not a real job.”

“Why?” Jake asked, baffled. 

“Daddy issues,” Gena said. 

“Fuck you,” Blade said. 

A growl split the increasingly inane conversation, and Jake turned to see the dog stumbling to its feet. Its wound was half-closed, seeping blood, but as the dog growled and hissed the wound continued to seal itself shut. Blade drew up his sword, tightening his grip on the hilt, and he glanced backwards at the alert Gena and vaguely worried Jake. 

“I will take care of this,” he intoned. “You two get out of here.”

“You mean kill it?” Jake asked, voice accidentally pitching higher. “You can’t kill it! You can’t kill animals, that’s a rule.”

“Seeing as it is trying to kill us, I’ll rule it self defense,” Blade said dryly. He stepped in front of them, watching the dog stumble to its feet and snarl at them. “I recognize that look in its eyes. It won’t stop until we’re all dead.”

But Jake could only shake his head, strangely crushed, and Gena gently pulled both of them back towards the double doors.  “It’s not the dog’s fault it’s violent,” Jake said weakly. “Somebody else probably made it that way, you know…?”

Gena’s expression softened, and she reached up to squeeze Jake’s shoulder. He tried not to lean into the gesture. “I know, honey. It’s not fair. We’re going to do everything we can for the dog, alright? I won’t let Blade kill it.”

“I can’t.” Blade moved around the slowly rousing dog, silent footsteps brushing the tile. “With no silver I can’t kill it. We have to lock it back inside and evacuate the establishment.”

Gena cursed under her breath, squeezing Jake’s shoulder again before lightly pushing him back behind Blade. “Glad I got that Inexplicable Acts of God insurance now. Blade, you have to help me get Jake out.”

“Little busy,” Blade gritted out. The dog was fully upright now, eyes fixed back on Blade. It was panting even heavier, and Jake watched in fascination as the wound on its stomach completely finished sealing - leaving no memory of the mark but a patch of shaved skin. “Your friend’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.  I am more concerned about the darkness of -”

The dog sprinted forward, dodging Blade and making straight for the doors. Blade had clearly been expecting another aerial pounce, and he had to shift his balance and wrap another hand around the hilt, moving to stab it. His hesitation cost him - the dog dodged the strike and moved past him, jumping straight for Jake and Gena.

Jake wasn’t as fast as Blade, but he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Gena and threw them both out of the way, taking the fall on the hard tile as the doors burst open. Blade cursed loudly, immediately running after it.

Thanks for checking up on them, Blade. They were doing fine, thank you so much. Jake let go of Gena, rolling his impacted shoulder with a slight grunt. Gena scrambled outwards, reaching out a hand and helping pull Jake to his feet. 

“That was not the first time you’d done that,” Gena said. Jake grunted, massaging his shoulder. Tingly. “Why didn’t you mention you were ripped?”

“It never came up?” Jake liked bulky clothing with a lot of layers. It was cozy. “Only assholes brag about that kind of stuff. Guys who carry katanas, you know. Cringelords.”

“I thought all you did was play video games,” Gena said frankly. God, he wished. Beating up on guys was fun and all, but beating up guys virtually was funner. You could stop for snack breaks. Or you could just put on Animal Crossing if you felt like it. “You’re okay too?” 

Jake nodded fastidiously, pointing at the doors. “Just fine, ma’am. Should I go help out Blade? He looks like he might need it.”

“He’ll be fine,” Gina said blithely. She eyed the double doors speculatively, already digging in her pocket for the key again. "We better stay away from all that nonsense and stay in here. I don’t want to walk into the middle of an exorcism or something.”

Jake couldn’t help but falter. “Uh, Ms. Gena. I don’t talk about this much with you, ‘cause it’s never that important or anything, but I could…you know, take care of that dog for you. Quick and easy too. If you let me, I can just -”

“No. There’s no need for that.” Gena’s expression was set firm and immovable, but Jake opened his mouth to protest anyway. “No. I’m certain you could help if necessary, Jake. But that’s what people like my shitty half-brother are here for. It was his choice to swear on the tomb of his vampire dad or whatever to protect people, so let him do his job.”

“But it’s my job too,” Jake said weakly.

But Gena just shook her head. “Whatever that job was, Jake, it’s messed you up enough for a lifetime. I won’t let it happen here too. Not in my diner.” She grabbed his hand, and Jake was shocked enough that he let her. “Now come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

Jake, of course, could get himself out of there just fine. But Gena didn’t seem to care about that.

He had suspected for a while that Gena knew something was off about him. She never said as much and he never made it obvious, and it continued to be something they both politely didn’t talk about. But Gena always treated him like the person he truly was instead of the person he appeared to be, and that was reason enough to think she was great.

A familiar sound burst from the main room. A soft thump, as if something heavy had landed on a down comforter, followed by a harsh roar. No explosion, but something had definitely just been set on fire. 

Gena pulled him towards the exit, bursting out of the doors in hot pursuit of an exit out of the building. She stopped short, eyes widening, and it took Jake a second to register what had stopped her. 

There was a line of fire in front of the two main doors out of the diner. Just fire. Hanging out. The fire floated a few inches off the ground, blazing away merrily and perfectly controlled, but Jake could feel their oppressive heat from several yards away. The fire didn’t even seem to be scorching anything. 

Magic. Had to be. Jake tore his eyes away from the fire, scanning the emptied main room and searching for the magician dog. He found the dog easily enough - it was cornered against the far wall, howling in rage but unable to move either direction without leaving a clean opening for Blade. Blade couldn’t kill it, and the dog was clearly about to take its chances soon. Or it would, if it wasn’t for the man standing next to Blade.

It was the drunk man. Apparently not that drunk. He was dressed in some cool all-leather getup, with a black jacket flap zipped up against his chest and actual leather pants. There was a chain looped around his waist and fire crawling up his arms, reaching all the way towards his head. Tongues of flame licked at the man’s jaw, creeping around his eyes before receding. 

It was unbelievably cool. But it was too cool. Like, try-hard cool. Just like Blade. A guy cool enough to pull off a leather jacket didn’t need a leather jacket to be cool. All of that leather had to be compensating for something. Real cool was effortless and casual. Like Layla and Gena. Frenchie was pretty cool too, but he worked too hard to be cool to actually be cool. Frenchie wore leather, but it was only ever sick-ass bomber jackets and leather boots. It was tasteful. This was not tasteful.

“Excuse me!” Gena yelled, startling both uncool guys. “Why is the exit blocked off in an emergency!”

“So our furry friend here doesn���t get away and resume his reign of terror across Harlem,” the blonde guy said. He gave the dog a mean smile, teeth bone white and shining. “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know there were still people in here. We’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

At least Blade looked vaguely unhappy. “Drop the fire, Johnny. If you’re going to kill it I want them both out of here.”

“Kill it?” Johnny asked, as if Blade had accused him of something distasteful instead of just murdering perfectly nice dogs. “I wouldn’t kill him! I told you, I’m dragging him to Hell. We’ll be out once he settles down. Think of it like Doggie Day Care.”

“Hard pass.”

Gena leaned in close to Jake, letting go of his hand. “See? It’s all fine. Mr. Zippo over here’s just sending the dog to Hell. That’s all.”

“That is not where I heard dogs go when they die,” Jake said dubiously.

“It’s where they go when they disrupt my business, that’s for fucking certain.”

The dog howled again, and for the first time Jake registered that something about the howl wasn’t quite natural. It rang like an unearthly bell, as if the sound was echoing someplace far away. If you really stopped and listened for that strange sound then you could hear something beautiful. Jake wondered if the leather jacket squad could hear it. 

Or maybe it was only Jake, finding the beauty in the deadly. He wondered if the leather jacket squad could find that too. Somehow he knew that they couldn’t. A sense in the back of Jake’s head - a sense probably born from Khonshu - told Jake that the men had a significantly lower body count than he did. And that was why Jake didn’t wear a leather jacket.

 Johnny (dumber name than Blade: discuss?) turned back to the probably-not-a-dog, flashing his bone white teeth in what could only charitably be called a smile. “Look at what Mephistophiles dragged in. Are you ready to come quietly this time?”

The dog snarled, hackles raised and neck arched in challenge. Jake wondered what kind of person had beef with a dog. Depends on the dog, maybe. 

“I knew where your nose was leading you. I just got there first.” The man reached for his belt, grabbing one end of the chain wrapped around his hips and pulling it out. The chain snapped out, flying into the air and reaching far beyond its ordinary length. “Beats me why you’ve chased the moon’s trail into an all-night diner, but I guess werewolves just follow their noses.”

Under his breath, so quietly Jake almost missed it, Blade muttered, “The monologuing…”

The dog howled - the dog that might not actually be a dog - but the man just wrapped his chains around his wrist.

“Jack, you owe me dinner after this.”

The chain snapped into the air, a snake leaping for the kill. The air cracked as the chain lashed out, striking the wolf and eliciting a howl of pain.

Jake didn’t even register it. The noise and sight skipped straight past his brain and into his brainstem. It would have been fine if he had been remotely cognizant of it. But Jake felt a lot of things he didn’t quite understand, and he did a lot of things first and only understood why he did them later. 

This wasn’t so mysterious. Like a hand jolting away from a hot stove, Jake squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears. The snap hit his ears again, and he pressed harder. 

Something roared - like the dog, but not. Something far bigger and far more dangerous. Something toppled over and something else crashed, and waves of heat washed over Jake. Something tugged at his arms, trying to pull him away, but Jake shook them off.

Somebody grunted in pain - a highly familiar sound - as another crash rattled the diner. The werewolf howled in pain too, sending a spike of pain shooting through Jake’s own skull, and a second afterwards Blade cursed as something else went flying.

“Jake! Jake, come on, move!”

Jake opened his eyes. 

The first thing he saw was Gena, looking a little frantic and a lot like she wished she could chuck Jake like a football behind the counter. The second thing he saw was Johnny punching a giant werewolf. The third thing he saw was the giant werewolf. 

It was hard at work trying to maul Johnny, but Jake could still see it clearly. It was four times taller than the dog and standing on its hind legs - somehow turned bipedal and vicious. Its body was almost human-like, save for its strange knees and arching ankles, and its torso was nothing but bulging muscle and coarse fur. It had a purely wolf’s head, eyes crazed and wild, and when it reared back its ears brushed Gena’s hanging lamp fixtures. Tables and chairs were overturned across the diner, napkin holders and plates smashed on the ground, and Blade was picking himself up from the ruins of a shattered table. 

Johnny’s arms were practically in the werewolf’s mouth. Two thin human arms were the only things propping the gaping maw open, the teeth scraping against leather, and the werewolf didn’t seem to notice the hellfire scraping his nose. Blinded by rage. 

Rage. Was it rage?

“Gena, move -”

“Not without Jake!”

“What’s wrong with him!”

“Something, fuck if I know - just help!”

The werewolf reared back and swiped at Johnny, who caught the motion with another chain and pulled. The werewolf roared again, pulling hard at the chain and yanking Johnny off his feet. Johnny yelped, chain flying out of his hands, and it lashed backwards through a light fixture, shattering the bulb with a thick crash.

“This is wrecking the place,” Gena said miserably. “Shit.”

That snapped Jake out of it. The world came rushing back in, returning sensation to his fingers and toes, and Jake slowly shook himself. 

The werewolf was only attacking Johnny. Jake saw that it had batted Blade away, but it was trying to maul Johnny. Its eyes were rolling in his head, slobbering and growling. Johnny’s head was slowly catching fire, a worrying development that he didn’t seem to care about, and he groaned with effort as he fended off the wolf’s attempts to snap him in half. 

The wolf hadn’t even looked at Gena. But it was ruining her diner anyway. Wasn’t that the way of it. 

Jake realized, with a strange combination of wonder and slight embarrassment, that there were no bad animals. Just bad owners. 

“Everything’s fine, Ms. Gena,” Jake said, lightly shaking her off. “It’s just trying to help.”

This didn’t reassure Gena much. “Help who?”

Jake ignored her. He looked to his right, squinting at one of the intact booths. He pressed his lips shut and thought loudly: Khonshu, how do I make it stop? 

Khonshu reclined in the booth, sipping black coffee from a pure white mug. A logo on the mug read ‘MOONLIGHT ALL NITE DINER’. I had no hand in this one. You reached for my magic directly. You’ll have to cease the power yourself. He took a sip of the coffee, careful not to stain his all white suit. Somehow. We ought to fetch Marc. 

Marc would make this so much worse. 

True. What are you going to do? 

Jake didn’t have to think about it. 

He reached into the pool of Khonshu’s magic - obvious now that he knew it was there, so bright and hot it was a miracle he hadn’t noticed before now - and exhaled slowly. The magic had been boiling hot and heavy, and as Jake took a few more deep breaths he felt the choppy seas abate into subtle calm. He looked at Gena, wearing her worry like an iron shield, standing in the middle of danger just to be sure that he got to safety, and the seas turned peaceful and placid. 

The werewolf reared back - cognizant, now, that Johnny wasn’t trying to hurt anybody. The chains drooped and fell from its bulging arm, cut and rubbed raw by the metal. Its heaving chest calmed with Jake’s own deep breaths, and Johnny quickly scrambled upwards. 

“Leave him alone,” Jake said sharply. “He’s not hurting you.”

“Not hurting me?” Johnny cried. “He was going straight for the skull!”

“He’s not doing it anymore,” Jake said condescendingly. He gently shook Gena off again, walking forward and picking through the battleground of upturned chairs and split tables. “He felt cornered. He was just trying to get out. Then we started attacking him and he freaked. He only tried to hurt you ‘cause he was scared.”

“Uh huh,” Blade said. 

“It’s true.” Jake stopped in front of the werewolf. It had subsided completely, jaw hanging and spit rolling from its teeth. It fell down on all fours, crouched like a weird monkey wolf. Man, werewolves were super weird looking. “You alright?”

The werewolf snarled at him. Alright, Jake would be rude too. He normally was.

Jake bent down in front of it. It put him below the werewolf’s line of sight - the thing was giant - but maybe that made it feel better. “Thanks for helping. You did a really good job. And you were super cool. Do you have any idea how big your teeth are? They’re huge, man!” The werewolf growled. But, like, in a friendly way. “You got all super cool like that to help me out. But I know you don’t really like being this way. Everything’s all good now. You can relax. You’re safe.”

The werewolf howled. It was a new sound - different from its angry and scared howls. There was something mournful about it, as if it was calling for something far away. Jake wondered if it felt the moon, and if the moon always reminded it of that loneliness. What memory did the moon spark? Why did the moon always bring loneliness?

Was it the werewolf’s feelings? Or was it the feeling of that person inside the werewolf - the person who always turned into a monster alone, and who was left shivering in an all-night diner in Harlem surrounded by enemies and strangers?

“It’s a new moon,” Jake whispered, and - if only for the werewolf - he made it so. “It’s a new moon, and you’re safe at home…”

The werewolf subsided slowly - crumpling into itself from the monster into the dog, and reaching back outwards again to take the form of a man. Jake watched in fascination as a human slowly emerged from the monster - as the light changed, as the sun changed position, and the monster showed its other face as the man. 

The world didn’t stop turning, and the sun didn’t stop shining on somebody else’s patch of Earth. The human would show his monstrous face again, and there would be nothing he could do about it. No matter how much he hated it. Somebody put that monster inside of him, and the monster demanded to exist - for its pain to be heard, for its pain to be inflicted upon another. 

The man stirred, groaning with a werewolf’s bassy growl before it subsided into a regular human moan. He cracked his eyes open, and Jake would recognize that look anywhere. 

“I’ll get you some Advil.”

***

The sun rose over Harlem. 

Werewolf Dude - whose name was Jack Russel, hilariously - watched it with an exhausted fascination as he gulped his coffee. Jake had the sense that watching the sunrise after a full moon was a novel sight. Gena looked as if the entire situation was a novel sight, but she made them food anyway.

They squeezed into a booth, two pots of coffee standing sentinel over plates of cold pie and hastily assembled burgers. Jack’s plate was just a heaping of raw meat, which smelled weird but offered tantalizing possibilities. Jake tried to sneak a strand before Gena slapped his hand away. 

Johnny Blaze was telling some highly dramatized story to Blade, who was both pretending he didn’t care and correcting every second sentence. Jake got the sense that Johnny was the type of person to speak entirely in flowery metaphor and Blade was the overly literal type. They were friends, although Jake didn’t know how. Johnny and Jack Russel were also friends, equally mysteriously. For a guy who talked a lot about how he was a lone rider of the night, he sure had a lot of friends. Guess that was what happened when you took enough road trips. 

“You’re a bit of a legend, man,” Blade told Jack. He had surrendered his leather coat with easy grace, complimenting the scavenged pair of jeans Gena found in the chef’s locker. They smelled like mystery meat, but so did Jack. “So is the Man-Thing -”

“Real? No comment.” Jack stuffed another handful of meat in his mouth, eyes fixed on the window. “Johnny, that was the shittiest capture job I’ve ever seen.”

“Do you rate your captures?” Johnny asked, scandalized. 

“Wouldn’t the worst ones be the guys you ate?” Blade asked, always focused on the important questions.

Jack tilted his head in a concession of the point. “Worst that didn’t involve kebab. Why didn’t you even go full flame out? I hate fire.”

“I did,” Johnny said, “it just pissed you off more. And I don’t like walking into diners with a flaming skull, thanks -”

Blade sipped his coffee pointedly. “Vanity’s a sin, you know.”

Jake ignored them. He had finally rescued his Switch from quarantine, and he was happily settled with Animal Crossing and pecan pie. He liked watching the sunrise in Animal Crossing too. Watching the world slowly wake up and start another peaceful day was nice. You should take peace where you got it. 

The people around him seemed to agree. They could shrug off a rampaging werewolf attack as another day with Jack, and easily invite him to the table in the diner they ruined. Gena on the phone with the insurance people. Judging from the various and assorted noises, she was yelling at them.

“Hey. Uh…what’re you playing?”

Jake grunted, caught in the epic highs and lows of early morning fishing. “Animal Crossing.”

“That’s cool. Is it…like…a horse simulator?” Jack grimaced, fully aware how completely uncool he was being. Way cooler as a dog. Jake didn’t play favorites, but he totally played favorites. “Sorry. I still don’t know what’s up with those things. Last I checked people went on walks for entertainment.”

“Okay, Boomer,” Jake said, without looking up from his console.

“...right. Listen, uh…I don’t really remember what happened, but Johnny filled me in.” Jack eyed Jake carefully, soft brown eyes glinting yellow. “What did you do back there?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Jake said blithely.

“Johnny said that you calmed me down.” Jack glanced around before leaning in, folding his arms on the table. “He also said that I freaked out when you freaked out.”

“Sounds like everyone was freaking out.” Jake jammed the buttons, successfully landing a…sea bass. Damn. “I was just mindin’ my own business.”

“But you did something,” Jack insisted. “There’s something about you. You smell different. Like light and ozone. Who are you?”

“Somebody who doesn’t need an interrogation.” Gena materialized at Jake’s elbow, making Jack jump a foot in the air. “Leave him be. He’s had a long day.”

“Uh, Gena?” Johnny looked at Gena, then at Jake, then back at Gena. “Is your friend…” He made a little jabbing motion at his temple, somewhat abashed. “You know?”

“I don’t know,” Gena said pointedly, “are you an emissary from hell with a flaming skull for a head?” Blade snickered. “Don’t you fucking start with me, Eric.” Jack snickered at Blade. Blade flipped Gena off. “He’s a paying customer and never causes me any trouble. Unlike you three. He can be off if he wants, he ain’t hurting anyone.”

 Everybody looked away and mumbled vague assurances that they totally loved people who were off, nothing wrong with a good off, my cousin’s off, etc. Jake watched in satisfaction as ‘pulled some Sailor Moon bullshit in a Harlem diner’ was filed under the ‘off’ category, which was now untouchable. Smooth moves, Gena. 

“Your diner gets some real weirdos, Ms. Gena,” Jake said wisely.

“This is nothing,” Gena said, pained. “Daredevil landed in my dumpster last week.”

“Whoah, no shit!”

“Yup. Hit him with a broom ‘til he left. I don’t need men loitering in my dumpsters.”

“It’s, like, unhygienic.” Jake wondered if this was a statistically improbable number of weirdos, or a normal number of weirdos if you live in NYC. “Did you let him clean up at least?”

Gena abruptly looked a little shifty. “DD and I have an understanding.” Jake now somehow had the sense that the concentration of weirdos in this diner was not entirely random. “If you see any more weirdos walk in here, Jake, tell ‘em that I charge ten percent more if they’re seen.”

“Is this why Crawly keeps calling you a business partner?” Jake asked skeptically. Gena adopted a very innocent face, which did not suit her. “ ‘Cause you said not to let Crawly in either.”

“That is just because he’s nasty. Come on, Jake, I called your sister-in-law. She’s waiting for you outside.”

“I knew you two were friends,” Jake hissed. “I knew it.”

“All women know each other,” Gena said, straight faced. She looked back over the table. “You three are cleaning up my damn diner. Only time I’ve seen the place this bad was when Jessica Jones watched the Giants lose the play-offs. All of you up, up, up.”

Jake slid out first, leaving the other men to follow grumbling after him. “Who’s Jessica Jones?”

“The worst decision I ever made,” Gena said darkly. 

“Wow. Bad breakup.”

“Let’s get going.”

Layla was waiting for him outside. She looked mostly asleep, but also slightly wigged. Jake silently passed her a giant cardboard cup of coffee, which she began chugging without a second thought. The neon signs in the shops across the street were lighting piece-meal, lending Layla’s frizzy hair a glow that slowly grew until it framed a halo around her face. 

Layla finally surfaced for air, gasping. “Have you been here all night? I freaked out when I woke up and saw that you weren’t home!”

“Sorry,” Jake said, somewhat abashed. “We had a situation.”

“A werewolf situation?” Layla asked flatly. She glanced at Gena, who only looked exhausted. “A werewolf situation for real? In real life?”

“Shit’s weird in New York,” Gena said, pained.

Layla sighed, holding out an arm, and Jake embraced her. She squeezed him tightly before separating and squeezing his hand. Carefully, she said, “Apparently some arsonist biker took care of it. Before it…calmed down. On its own.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Jake said happily. 

And Layla couldn’t help but smile too. “Not a thing?”

“C’mon, man,” Jake said, “I leave the demon hunting to the experts. Did you know there are demon hunting experts?”

“It’s good to remember my life could be worse.”

It could be worse. Way worse. Jake was pretty happy to be himself sometimes. 

He could probably have been a demon hunter if he wanted. Maybe Marc did some light demon hunting here and there. But Jake liked being Jake better - Jake, who could calm down a monster, and who didn’t have to hurt it. 

Gena flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, shutting the all-night diner for repairs, and Jake happily retold the entire sordid story to Layla as they disappeared into the rising horizon. 

[eastwindmlk]

Twelve a day

September 1st, 1971

 Remus John Lupin found himself stuck in a compartment with three rowdy boys. Something he had not foreseen when he allowed the polished and proper-looking set and their mousy-looking friend to sit with him. They seemed like the sort that would, just like him, pull out a book and spend the journey reading. He could not have been more wrong. After the train left the station, all hell broke loose. There was a pile of candy, exploding snap, and a couple of heated arguments regarding which quidditch team was best.

By the time that lunch came around, the mountain of sweets had diminished to a hill. The three boys were working at that feverishly. Urging Remus to take some too, something he felt too embarrassed to do, though they kept insisting, he picked a chocolate bar just to make them stop asking. They did not push him again.

Even though the tawny-haired boy was certain that each of them had eaten more sweets now than he had in a year, lunches were presented. Peter, the mousy-looking one, had a Tupperware box filled with fruits, crackers, cheese, and sausages. James had a thermos with homemade chai that filled Remus’s nostrils with a sweet, spiced scent that he’d caught on the boy before. As well as sandwiches and rice cakes. Sirius boasted proudly that he’d gone to the station shop and bought himself six different kinds of sandwiches.

When they came around to Remus, they all seemed excited, leaning in to see him pull out a plastic bag with two buttered rolls, one with cheese and one with peanut butter. “That’s all you got?” Peter asked, wincing as James elbowed him. He nodded sheepishly in reply and held it up. “I am not a big eater.” He lied, hoping to cover the waver in his voice with a shrug and a bright smile. They did not. He could see it from the pitying looks he got. He’d seen enough of those to recognise one when he saw one. And he was seeing three.

James looked down at his lunch pack, and much to Remus’s horror, he placed part of his lunch on the table between them. Prompting Peter to do the same. Sirius lined up his collection of prepackaged options. He waved his arm like he was on one of those prize shows on TV. Remus hesitated for a moment, first reaching for the coronation chicken before changing his mind and settling for the less desirable egg and cress. Before he could even pull it towards him, Sirius gave his first choice a little nudge and winked at him. “Just take it.” He encouraged, and Remus let Sirius sway him.

Too flustered by the entire ordeal, he just started eating, chomping down on the feast that was suddenly in front of him. A conversation was erupting around him. And suddenly, it was no longer obnoxious and loud. It was cosy. Sated, he sat back and listened in for a bit before he felt comfortable enough to contribute.

By the time that the trolley lady came by, though, Remus could probably eat more. Despite knowing better than to look, to be temped, his eyes drew to the splendour. Practically salivating, he patted his pockets, hoping to find a stay coin or maybe a cheeky fiver somewhere. Nothing. So, when she looked at him after all the others had gone, all he could manage was a defeated shake of his head.

The old witch smiled at him kindly, nodded, and was ready to push on when Sirius piped up. “No, no, Remi here would like something, too.” The announcement made him panic, waving his hands wildly and protesting in stutters and sputters. But soon enough, he felt Sirius’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry; I got you.”

November 3, 1972

Sirius’s thirteenth birthday was everything everyone expected from it. It started off with a grand, dramatic toast in the common room and an inordinate amount of revelry. Even on a good day, Remus would probably have stayed near the fringes. But it was two days before the full moon, and this was not a good day.

So, the young werewolf hung around the edges of the party and observed. He occasionally got dragged into the whirlpool of dancers and handed a glass or a bottle. Some of which he drank, others he sniffed and left on the table for someone else to find. Until he realized something. When the alcohol settled in, the ache in his body felt less present. The headache makes place for the comfortable, fuzzy feeling.

When it was time to retire, Remus Lupin was drunk for the very first time. Swaying as he walked up the stairs, he used his hands to keep himself from falling forward. Once at the top of the stairs, he could feel a pair of hands guiding him to his bed and stripping off his shoes. The blanket was tucked nicely around his shoulders, and he could hear a distant voice wish him good night.

Come morning, he understood why the older kids told him to pace himself. That he was going to regret it come morning. The ringing of his alarm clock bounced around his head, trying to crack open his skull. Drawing the curtains on his bed, Remus sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his cot, and the entire world started spinning. He felt like he was on a carnival ride, the world spinning wildly.

Digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, the Gryffindor ground at them. Hoping that this would ground him. It did not. It made things worse. That is when he felt it. A wave of nausea came over him, and all he could do was run his gangly legs to the bathroom, his hand clamped over his mouth.

By the time that he felt a pair of hands on him, gently stroking back the damp curls that stuck to his forehead, Remus was already retching and dry-heaving. There was nothing left to expel from his bony, trembling body. Sirius’s calm voice came from behind him.

“I got you.”

January 10, 1975

Remus could never tell which was worse, the days right before the full or the days after. The pain he could deal with, Poppy always patched him up pretty well. At least those days were quiet. Unlike now, two nights before the moon, his body was wired and his mind was racing. Every little shift, every cough, and every breath were like a pin in his ear. His skin was too tight, and his body was too warm.

While lying in bed, he did his best not to turn around too much. Or else he would have to start focusing on something again, just to forget the seams in his night clothes. So, Remus lay on his back, staring at the canopy that suddenly seemed to be sharp and defined. Unlike other days when the fuzzy darkness swallowed the roof of his bed,

Too hot, he kicked off the blankets, feeling the seems of his trousers and groaning. Hand raking over his face and grimacing at the rough feeling of stubble starting to form. Soon enough, he would have to start shaving for real. At least now he could think about that. The way he could almost feel the hairs grow If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture it.

His eyes shooting open when suddenly the curtains ripped open and undid his silencing charm. In the silver rays of the moon, he could make out Sirius, his hair messy and his shoulders slumped. His eyes focused, and he could see the haunted look on his friend’s face.

Suddenly, it all did not matter any more. Remus shifted; damn the seams. He pulled the blanket up, inviting Sirius. Damn the heat. He felt his head slam almost painfully against his collarbone as his best friend buried his face in the crook of his neck. Damn the pain and the hot breath. The tall boy wrapped his arms around his friend, kissing the top of his head.

“I got you."

[granny-griffin]

Original Story Recs: Halloween Edition

From the author of the bnha fic Butterfly comes another very creepy story! Except this one is way shorter and also not a fanfic. One day, people and animals freeze in place, and if you touch them, you freeze in place too. Nobody knows why this is happening or how to stop it.

Another super messed up short story from the author of ABOT. But I actually found this story genuinely sweet! You know. despite all the child abandonment and murder. Anyway if I say anything else I’m gonna end up spoiling it so just read it.

Considerably less of a horror story than the previous two, but it has a werewolf so it’s very festive. Also if I’m remembering the protagonist is an epic middle aged woman who sits there and knits (maybe crochets??) the whole time while she’s talk no jutsu-ing the werewolf. It’s awesome.

Okay listen. I just have to confess. I’m super biased toward this one hdlshd but listen. It’s pretending to be a romance story, but it actually exists to answer the age old question: what would happen if a vampire took communion? Anyway come and get your niche theological metas here.

Okay I had one with a werewolf and one with a vampire so here’s one with a zombie! Eve is one of the walking dead, but she’s determined not to eat people. You know. since that’s kind of a mean thing to do. But this is very difficult since all her friends are eating people! maybe this was why I liked it hdksdh I’m here for the difficult moral struggle. Stay strong Eve! (btw this one is multichapter while the others are oneshots)

Gotta round out my halloween monster collection! This one is about a guy wandering a deserted battlefield and being angsty, but he also has a loyal pegasus friend so that’s pretty rad. Also there’s a storm blowing in so its also very aesthetic. And there’s ghosts.

[rxtualistic]

halloween plots round one.

we both work at a horror house and i swear what happens here is not normal. you have noticed the groups always leaving missing one or two members too, right?

i was about to viciously murder you and your boyfriend but what the fuck? did he just leave you to die??? that's a huge red flag. let's kill him together.

silent hill only we used to live here when it was a normal town and now we have seen all our loved ones get murdered and are trying our best to survive in a world full of monsters. alternatively, one muse lives there, the other muse is a family member of the original game characters looking for them and instead finds muse a.

"innocent" girl meeting a serial killer and manipulating him into doing whatever she wants.

witches. witches. witches. in every version.

charmed inspired plots where we play sisters and their significant others. give me the angst of one of them falling for a demon. the heartbreak of forbidden love between a witch and their guide!!! the breaking the rules. the sibling dynamics. the fights!!!

witches that are evil and conspire to bring chaos into people's lives.

witch and werewolf falling in love. think penny dreadful.

witch and witchhunter falling in love. bonus points if we set it in the past and the witch is just trying to help the people but they are scared of her and so hire the best witchhunter in the realm. the only problem is that something evil is actually after the town and so they have to join forces. the angst the drama the guilt on both sides as they reluctantly start falling for their sworn enemy!

plot based on hotel california. maybe they are witches that lure people in to sacrifice them. maybe it's a cult that worships an old god that demands blood. maybe they are vampires that need victims. maybe they are just cursed to always remain inside the hotel!!

a modern telling of frankestein in which muse a grows obsessed with death and bringing people from it and so when muse b (whom they have been obsessed with since always) dies, they steal the corpse and start working on resurrecting them. alternatively, muse a and b work together to bring muse c back. or muse b finds what muse a is doing and joins them.

bluebeard but maybe instead of a man it's a woman and she kills men. or maybe instead of brothers the wife has sisters and they team up to kill him and make it look like he disappeared so she can live a lavish life.

anything on here.