#the picture was taken in the small forested area i found her

[fiskbein]

my latest find - female red deer which was surprisingly complete with none of her teeth missing. knife marks on the back of the skull and the unusual location she was found in suggests a hunter dump.

[newdreamlove95]

What Remains - Chapter 4

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Please read below the cut or AO3 - enjoy!

Beta-reader: @writingsoftarnishedsilver 💜

The waiting room smelled like lavender. It was clearly designed to soothe the people who sit here, stuck in endless loops cluttering their minds. Yet it left Sebastian feeling like he was suffocating. He sat stiffly on a wooden bench with soft cushions, his knee bouncing fast enough to make the floorboards creak beneath him. He was alone in this room. For him, the silence was oppressive. No ticking clock, no faint murmurs from behind closed doors. Just the frantic pounding of his own heart. 

He could still leave.

It had taken him a whole week to even reply to the appointment confirmation which came with a mind-numbing questionnaire. Bee and Ominis had both been subtly, but not so subtly, checking in with him. Worried he would bail. Their delicate badgering worked though.

Which is why he found himself the night before the questionnaire was due, after having downed two glasses of firewhiskey, filling it out in a single sitting.

First, a list of tick box questions asking about different symptoms he might be feeling, assessing the intensity of them. They were direct and clinical. He ticked them quickly, only halting when his stomach dropped at one of them.

“Feeling bad about yourself – or that you are a failure or have let yourself or your family down.”

His hand shakily filled out the bubble marking ‘Nearly every day’ even though it didn’t seem to cut it.

Then the open-ended questions.

"What brings you to therapy?"

Parents died when I was eight. Uncle was a real bastard. Twin sister was cursed when I was fifteen, lost everything trying to fix it, ended up worse than when I started. Do you want the long version? A copy of my court hearing is attached.

"What do you want to work on?"

Take your pick.

And then he sent it off. He had no idea what to expect from there. He hadn’t foreseen a response, but he received one. A simple, handwritten note:

Thank you for sharing this with me. I look forward to meeting you, Sebastian.

Cecile Hepthorne.

Now, here he was, on the verge of walking out before his very first session, gripping the bench until his chuckles became white. 

Just as he was about to bolt, the door creaked open.

“Sebastian?”

He tensed, looking up towards the door.

The woman at the doorway wasn’t what he imagined. To be honest, he didn’t know what he pictured. Some rigid, stern-looking therapist with a clipboard? A bit like Scriber? But, Cecile looked… normal. 

Her wavy, greying brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, the sleeves of her knitted, beige jumper were rolled up around her elbows, and tucked loosely into her navy trousers. She had kind, brown eyes and offered him a warm smile, with laugh lines on her cheeks. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come in,” she remarked. 

Sebastian scoffed, shifting against the bench. “That makes two of us.”

Cecile’s lips twitched. “Well, you’re here now. Shall we?”

For a brief moment, he hesitated. But then he thought about everything that led to him sitting on his bench in the first place. 

He couldn’t keep doing this. He was tired.

So, instead of running away, he stood and slowly followed her. 

He took in the sight of her office. The office wasn’t clinical at all. He’d been in clinical places before. The hospital wing at Hogwarts, St. Mungo’s, the interrogation rooms in the Auror office. 

But this space felt cosy – lived-in.

Bookshelves crowded the walls, filled with thick, leather-bound texts, some in perfect condition and some with cracked spines and faded titles. A beige rug softened the wooden floor in the sitting area. There was a comfortable-looking, forest green couch and two burgundy, velvety armchairs, and a small table in between with a pot of tea already steaming, close to a box of tissues.

His eyes spanned the other side of the room. There was a desk in the corner and a window overlooked a small, walled garden, granting a sense of privacy which can be hard to find in London. There were a few potted plants that sat on the window sill, one of them nearly withered. 

Noticing his quick glance at the struggling plant, Cecile teased as she sat on one of the armchairs, “I’m much better at helping people than I am at keeping plants alive, I can assure you.”

Sebastian huffed out a quiet laugh as he stood rigidly by the doorway.

“Please, sit wherever you’d like. Would you like a cup of tea, Sebastian?”

He stalled, then chose the armchair across from her and nodded. Sitting on the couch felt like too much.

She flicked her wand and the teapot levitated, filling up their cups on the table, and then floated towards each of them.

Cecile crossed one leg over the other, relaxed but observant. He took a sip of his tea, and she followed by taking a sip of hers.

“Before we start,” she said, “I just want to say that I’m happy you made the decision to come. It is a big step.”

“Yeah well, my friends probably would have dragged me here if I didn’t.” He deflected, looking at a serene oil painting of the sea hung on the wall behind her.

“You still came. You have some very caring friends – Bee and Ominis, was it?”

Sebastian’s eyes found hers again. “Yeah, Bee and Ominis…” His jaw tensed. “You get a lot of 'concerned friend referrals’?”

“You’d be surprised.” Her voice was calm.

He took another sip. “And? What’d they say? Bee and Ominis.”

She tilted her head. “Enough to give me some idea of what was going on, but that’s not the same as hearing it from you. It was helpful to read what you submitted. Thank you for sending that over again.”

Sebastian nodded and then exhaled. She let the pause settle before asking, “I’d like to ask – what do you hope to get from these sessions?”

Sebastian blinked. “What do I –?” He furrowed his brows in confusion and a hint of annoyance. “Dunno. Isn’t that your job to figure out?”

Cecile didn’t react the way he anticipated. No frown, no sigh of disappointment. Just a small, thoughtful tilt of her head.

"I could figure out what I think might help," she mused, "but it’s always better if we start with what you want – what feels right to you."

Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose, then looked down at his tea, turning the cup in his hands. What did he want?

He didn’t know how to ‘fix’ himself. Didn’t even know what fixing himself looked like. But he knew he couldn’t keep doing this.

"I guess…” He exhaled, staring at the surface of his tea and the steam rising from it. “I just don’t want to keep feeling like this.”

Cecile’s voice stayed even. "What do you mean by ‘this’?"

He let out something that might have been a laugh, but it was void of real humour. "Just…" His hand gestured vaguely as if that could fill in the words he didn’t know how to say. "Being tired. Feeling like I keep ruining things—even now. Like I can’t fix anything, no matter how much I try."

The words came easier than he thought. 

"There are moments," he muttered, "where it feels like I’m fine. And then—" He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Something happens. Something big or small reminds me of,” he swallowed, “my f-family. And then it’s like I’m right back there again – that’s what happened at the mission that Bee probably told you about – And I… I react before I even know what I’m doing. I do stupid shit. I feel like – like I can’t stop it."

His grip on the cup tightened, and he kept his eyes firmly on it, avoiding hers.

"And then Bee and Ominis have to deal with it. Again. Have to deal with me. And I wonder if today is the day they realise they don’t have to stay. And then I’ll lose them. And I’ll be –"

His throat closed around the words before he could finish. He hadn’t meant to say that.

The silence stretched for a moment, but Cecile didn’t rush to fill it. She just nodded, as if everything he said made perfect sense.

"That’s already a great place to start," she said simply.

Sebastian arched a brow. "Yeah? I don’t even know exactly what I want. Or if it’s even possible."

"That’s alright," Cecile said. "We don’t have to know exactly where we’re going just yet. We’ll figure it out as we go. But knowing you don’t want to keep feeling this way? That’s already a great step."

Sebastian watched her for a moment, as if weighing her sincerity. Then, he looked away, lifting his cup to his lips and taking a slow sip of tea. Setting it back on the low table in front of him, he crossed his arms and met her gaze.

"Right," he muttered. "This is the part where I bare my soul, yeah?"

Cecile didn’t laugh at the sarcasm. Didn’t bristle, either. 

"Only if you want to," she said. "But we can take it at whatever pace works for you. How about we start off simple?"

Sebastian blinked, not expecting that, and nodded again.

She didn’t push him too much. She asked about his work, and he offered only the essentials. She asked how he liked London, and he gave her some generic answers. When she asked if he slept well, he quickly fibbed, “Yeah, fine.”

Raising an eyebrow, she commented, “That was a quick answer.”

He smirked. “What, you want me to say I have nightmares?”

Her expression didn’t change. “Do you?”

His jaw tightened, but instead of probing further, she let the silence linger for a moment before moving on to ask about his home life, his friendships, and what he liked to do in his free time. Understanding who he was. Easing him in.

After a while, Cecile asked, “So, what made you decide to stay?”

Sebastian tapped his fingers on the armrest as he thought of the answer. “I figured I might as well see if this lives up to all the hype.”

Her lips twitched in amusement. “And? What’s the verdict?”

He huffed, leaning back. “The jury’s still out.”

Glancing at the time, she said, “That’s it for today, Sebastian. You’ve done really well. I will keep your slot open for the same time next week, but do let me know if you’d like me to cancel it.”

He exhaled, though relief eluded him, and said thank you as he stood to leave. He got to the door, but her voice gently stopped him.

“Oh and Sebastian?”

He looked back, bracing himself.

“This isn’t about erasing or changing the past,” she explained softly, “It’s about helping you live with it.”

Her words tightened his chest before he closed the door behind him.

–

Sebastian trudged up the steps to their front door. His mind was a mishmash of half-formed thoughts and feelings as he reflected on today. It wasn’t too bad, but he still felt shaken. When he reached the door, he wordlessly unlocked it and paused, taking a moment to compose himself, and then stepped into the comfort of their home.

He sluggishly slipped off his coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door, moving on to kicking his trainers off. He walked quietly through the corridor towards the living room, where he found Bee curled up on their L-shaped couch, her legs tucked beneath her, a book balanced on her knees. A mug of coffee sat on their coffee table beside her, forgotten as she lost herself in whatever she was reading.

She looked up as he entered, her eyes finding his across the room. A small smile curved her lips, but she didn't speak, didn't rush to fill the silence immediately.

"Hey," she said softly, marking her place in the book with a finger, closing it.

"Hey," he replied, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears, crossing the room. He sank down onto the couch beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “Ominis home?”

"Nope," she said, accentuating the 'p' while a smile spread across her face. He gave her a puzzled look. "He's apparently on a date."

His eyes widened, "What? With who?"

"He wouldn't say, the bastard. Maybe you can coax it out of him."

“I can try,” he chuckled softly. 

There was a short moment of silence between them, until Bee finally asked, "So, how was it?" her voice was gentle, giving him space to answer however he needed to.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the soft cushions. "Fine," he said after a moment. "Not as terrible as I expected." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "She didn't make me lie on a couch like in the muggle films you showed me."

Bee chuckled softly, warming him. "No soul-baring confessions? No dramatic breakthroughs?"

"Not yet," Sebastian quipped, surprising himself. He hadn't consciously decided to go back, but it slipped out anyway. She didn’t miss it either, as he caught quick, subdued awe in her eyes.

His eyes drifted to the book resting on Bee's knees, her hand partly covering it.

There were two silhouetted figures across the cover – one in a sharp suit and an umbrella, the other in a flowing, ballroom gown, connected by a curling red ribbon that wove between them.

"What's that you're reading?" he asked, nodding toward the book.

Bee glanced down, her fingers caressing the edge of the page. "Oh, this? It's called 'The Night Circus.' Muggle novel.”

"What's it about?" Sebastian shifted, turning to face – curious, but looking to change the topic.

"Well," Bee began, her green eyes lit up the way they always did when she talked about something that captivated her, "it's about this circus that only appears at night. It arrives and leaves without warning. And it's the venue for this competition between two magicians who've been trained since they were kids for a game they don't fully understand…” 

She glanced at him with a small smile, “I just started it. It's quite beautiful so far. I think you’d like it."

Sebastian nodded, finding himself drawn to the idea. Stories had always been a refuge for him. There was something soothing about losing himself in a world that wasn't his, with problems that belonged to someone else. Plus, he was curious to see muggles’ take on magic.

"Would you..." he hesitated. "Would you read some of it to me?"

Bee's eyes softened and nodded, shifting slightly on the couch to make more room. "Here," she said, patting her lap. "You look exhausted."

Sebastian wavered for just a second, biting the inside of his lip, before giving in. He stretched out on the couch, crossing his ankles, and lowered his head onto her lap. He felt the warmth from her thighs beneath his head.

Bee opened the book, flicking back a few pages to the start. 

"The circus arrives without warning," Bee began, her voice melodic as she read. "No announcements precede it, no paper notices on downtown posts and billboards, no mentions or advertisements in local newspapers. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not."

As he listened, her free hand moved almost absently to his hair, fingers gently weaving through the dark strands and massaging his scalp. Sebastian's eyes drifted closed at the touch, a sigh escaping him. As she continued reading, describing the tents that appeared as if by magic, Sebastian found himself spellbound – not just by the story, but by Bee.

With half-lidded eyes, he traced the way the afternoon light highlighted her dark auburn hair, turning the edges and ends to copper. The way a slight furrow appeared between her brows when she reached a mysterious passage. The way her voice dipped lower for certain characters, rose higher for others. The way her plump lips moved around certain words or when she smiled at the enchanted imagery.

His breathing slowed, deepened, as her fingers continued to play with his hair, sometimes brushing against his temple and ear. The tension he'd carried home from Cecile's office melted away beneath her touch. It was replaced by a warm ache in his chest as he listened, hanging on her every word while unable to look away – something both painful and sweet. 

He couldn’t name it. It somehow frightened him too much to examine it more closely.

Instead, he allowed himself to unthinkingly sink into the moment.

–

A week later, he found himself back in that same cosy room. Only this time, his knee wasn’t bouncing quite as much, but his fingers held his tea tightly. He shrugged off questions about his week, claiming work had been busy and mentioning the book he and Bee had been reading together.

At some point, she redirected the conversation to their previous session, seeking any lingering reflections. Sebastian remained elusive, using a long sip of tea as a shield against deeper inquiry. He had definitely thought about it – more than he wanted to admit. About the things he said too easily, the things he almost said. But also about how it hadn’t been as painful as he thought it was going to be, but still left him feeling… exposed. But he was here again, wasn’t he? That had to mean something.

"How did you sleep this week?"

A quick, reflexive answer rose to his lips, the same "fine" he'd offered last time, but he caught himself.

"Some nights are better than others," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the desk in the corner of the room. A stack of parchment sat neatly organised next to a quill.

Cecile nodded slightly. “Why are some nights better than others?”

Sebastian exhaled. “I don’t know.”

She didn’t push. She just waited.

The quiet stretched and maybe that was why he kept going.

“Some nights, I manage to sleep fine,” he said, voice slow, like he was choosing his words carefully as he spoke them. “It helps when I’m physically exhausted after work.”

Cecile hummed. “Makes sense… And the nights that aren’t better?”

Sebastian clenched his jaw. “The usual. Nightmares. Wake up at three. Can’t get back to sleep without–” 

Shame rose in his gut and he averted his eyes to the newly revitalised plant from last week.

Cecile cocked her head slightly to the side, “What was that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She didn’t press. Instead, wordlessly, she reached for the teapot and poured him another cup after he nodded yes.

The sound of tea filling the mug was the only sound in the room aside from the faint chirping of birds outside the window.

Sebastian knew what she was doing. She wasn’t pushing, but she wasn’t moving on just yet either. He could sit here in silence if he wanted to. Wait for her to move on. But he didn’t.

“Bee helps me,” he said finally, his voice quieter now.

Cecile’s voice remained neutral but still warm. “That’s nice of her. How does she do that?”

Sebastian swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly against the armrests. “She…” He stopped, then exhaled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

His face flushed, which only irritated him further.

“She holds me,” he muttered. “When I wake up like that. She comes over and holds me for the rest of the night – because of a nightmare. Like I’m a child.”

His voice broke ever so slightly and was laced with irritation, but it wasn’t directed at Bee – Cecile could hear that. It was directed at himself.

She nodded slightly, taking a sip of her tea before saying, “It sounds like she cares about you a lot.”

Sebastian scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

Cecile raised an eyebrow. “It’s a problem that she cares?”

He exhaled exasperatedly, “It’s a problem that I need it.”

Cecile set her cup down. She studied him for a moment, then asked, “What does it mean to you to need comfort?”

His jaw clenched again.

“That I’m weak,” he said finally.

She hummed, “And what about Bee? Does she ever need comfort?”

“Yeah…” he murmured, running his fingers on the velvet of the armrest.

“And do you think she’s weak?” 

His dark eyes flashed to hers, “No, of course not!” 

Cecile nodded as if she predicted the answer. “Everyone needs comfort sometimes, Sebastian. Where do you think you learned that? That you’re weak for needing it?”

Sebastian's throat felt tight. His pulse kicked up slightly like his body was already trying to outrun the question.

He swallowed, shifting in his seat, his grip tightening on the warm ceramic of his mug. A sudden pressure built in his chest, something that made the room feel a little smaller than before. His shoulders were tense, nearing his neck and ears. His heart drummed too fast, his breaths growing shallower. His fingers tightened against the cup almost painfully, and clenched into a fist against his shaky knee, as though he could shake off the feeling like lacewing flies were fluttering on his skin.

“Sebastian.”

His head snapped up. Her voice was steady, grounding. Not urgent, not concerned–just there.

“Take a double breath for me.”

Sebastian blinked. “A what?”

“A double breath,” Cecile repeated, her voice calm. “In through the nose, once. Then hold. Then again before you exhale very slowly.”

He frowned, “I’m breathing fine.”

She tilted her head, “Please try it. In through your nose. One breath–then another before you let it out.”

Sebastian rubbed a hand down his face and noticed that his pulse hadn’t settled.

So he did what she asked.

Inhale–once.

Then again, a second sip of air before exhaling slowly.

It felt… strange. Forced. But the second breath stretched something tight inside of him, loosened it just slightly.

He tried again.

And again.

And he could feel it–his chest opening up, his hands unclenching, his body releasing some tension and stilling, his pulse slowing from a frantic beat to something more manageable.

Cecile waited, watching him carefully, not speaking until he was ready.

When he finally exhaled again, she said, “That’s it.”

Sebastian mumbled, “That was weird.”

Cecile’s lips twitched into a gentle smile. “It helps, though, doesn’t it?”

He swallowed. “...Yeah.”

She let a brief silence pass before asking, “Did you notice anything just now?”

Sebastian frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

She gestured lightly toward him. “About your mind, your body–anything that changed as you got anxious.”

He hated this part. He considered brushing it off, but… something about the way she asked made him want to at least try.

His brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”

“Take your time,” Cecile said softly.

Sebastian exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “My… hands. They were really tight. My skin was tingling.” He flexed his fingers as if realising it for the first time. “My chest felt… tight too. Like it wasn’t getting enough air. My shoulders kind of hurt. And my head–it felt like everything was moving too fast to catch a thought properly.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s good, Sebastian.”

He grimaced. “Good?”

“It means you noticed.”

Sebastian scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “Right. Noticing things...”

She smiled. “Noticing means you can do something about it next time. Double breaths help because when anxiety rises, your body thinks it’s in danger. That second inhale tells your nervous system that you’re safe.”

He absorbed that for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he believed all of it, but he had to admit that it worked.

Cecile studied him for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to continue with what we were talking about?”

He gulped and shook his head, “Not today.”

She didn’t press. She simply nodded. “That’s alright.”

And then, with the kind of fluidity that made it seem like this was always where the conversation was going, she said, “You mentioned earlier you were reading The Night Circus with Bee.”

Sebastian's shoulders eased a little more, “Yeah.”

She tilted her head slightly. “How’s it going?”

He told her all about it. The corner of his mouth lifted unconsciously as he described their reading sessions. The tight lines around his eyes relaxed, his posture easing back into the armchair rather than perching on its edge. His hands now rested comfortably on the armchair. He shared how sometimes Ominis joins them, relaxed on their armchair, listening with closed eyes but never falling asleep. He didn't realise that for several minutes, he'd been speaking openly and not carefully.

Cecile observed the transformation with quiet attentiveness, noting how his voice softened when he mentioned Bee's name, a knowing, but subtle smile growing on her face.

She eyed the small clock mounted on the wall behind Sebastian. "We're almost out of time," she remarked.

"Yeah?" Sebastian replied, unsure whether he felt relieved or annoyed at how quickly the time had slipped by. He grabbed his mug, finishing off the last sip of tea.

She gave a brief nod. "But before you leave, I have some homework for you."

His face twisted into a scowl, though it lacked any real bite.

She chuckled lightly. "I promise, it’s nothing too strenuous."

He exhaled sharply as he adjusted his hold on his now-empty mug. "Alright, what kind of misery are you about to serve me?"

Ignoring his dramatics, she continued, "I want you to be aware of when you slip back into that state."

His mouth pressed into a firm line. "What state?"

He knew what she was talking about. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

She continued, gesturing subtly toward him. “Like earlier, when your chest tightened, when your hands clenched. When your mind started racing.”

He nodded, “And?” 

“That’s it. Just notice it.”

His frown deepened. “That’s all the homework?”

“That’s part of it,” she corrected. “And when you do notice it, I would like you to find a way to comfort yourself, like using the double breath.”

Sebastian nodded once, slow and measured. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea, but it wasn’t the worst thing she could’ve asked him to do.

Cecile then added, “There’s one more thing.”

Sebastian groaned dramatically with a hint of a smirk, tilting his head back against the chair. “Merlin’s sake, there’s more?”

“I want you to notice when you avoid something,” she said calmly.

At that, he stiffened; his fingers, which had been loosely wrapped around his cup, curled around it tightly. 

“And what, I’m supposed to just sit there, basking in my self-awareness?” he muttered, unable to hide the edge in his voice.

“No. I just want you to write it down.”

“Write it down?” Sebastian asked with an annoyed tone.

She nodded. “Not to confront it. Not to act on it. Just… record it. When it happens. What you were avoiding. Nothing more.”

Sebastian did not like the sound of that.

“Not sure I see the point,” he said carefully, watching her reaction.

Cecile shrugged. “There doesn’t have to be a point. Not yet. But humour me.”

After a long moment, he sighed. “Fine.”

–

The room was surrounded by a hazy twilight, its air perfumed with the intoxicating scent of violets. 

Soft, muted sounds filled the space–staggered breaths mingling with almost inaudible moans, all synchronising with the echoed meeting of skin. His body moved of its own accord, driven by a raw, aching need, his bare hips meeting soft inner thighs.

He groaned against the blurred nape of her neck, his lips brushing over smooth, glistening skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses. Doing whatever he could to keep her whimpering around him. 

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, anchoring him and meeting his thrusts. His chest pressed against hers, the softness of her skin and her firm, pebbled nipples. 

He was so close, so completely enveloped in her, sensing her need for him as much as his for her.

He heard his name escape her lips – a husky, muffled moan that lingered in the air. Something tugged at the edges of his consciousness, a hint of familiarity that he couldn't quite grasp.

His movements faltered slightly, a brief hesitation as his hips continued to grind against hers, pulling almost completely out before slowly sinking back in – making her gasp and clench around him. His hands, once interlocked with hers and pinned by her head, wandered down her hips, gripping her as he thrust more languidly and let his head dip from her neck, against her collarbone.

Her hands found his ribs, skimming upward and curling at the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair in a way that felt achingly right and recognisable. She wasn’t grasping onto him in mindless, fevered lust. 

She was holding him.

She pulled him closer, her touch soft yet insistent, guiding his kisses up her neck to her ear. One of his hands moved from her hip, gliding over her curves, ribs, and up her side, until his fingers tangled in her hair. He tugged gently, evoking a hoarse cry as her body began to tremble with release beneath him.

Everything was blurred. The feeling of soft skin, the quiet, breathy sounds filling the space between them. He couldn’t see her, not really. But as he was kissing and nipping at the lobe of her ear, he noticed that his fingers were entwined in dark auburn strands — snapping her into focus.

His chest tightened and before he could fully comprehend, she breathed, her voice soft and pleading,

"Look at me, Seb."

Those same fingers in his hair led him from her neck, drawing him upwards until their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, breath mingling, as she pulled him closer with her legs and he sunk into her, to the hilt.

Blissed-out green eyes met his in an unbreakable gaze.

And then, the scene cracked down around him.

Sebastian woke up with a sharp, startled inhale. His heart pounded, his skin was damp, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was. But he knew that the smell of violets followed him here. 

The remnants of his dream clung to him, like her legs wrapped around him, the faint sounds of her breathless moans, the heat of her skin, the way she had held him so tenderly, so completely– 

Then, reality settled in and he felt her – not a dream, but in the flesh. Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck as he held her, her arm draped over his waist, while her leg rested on one of his. 

The rise and fall of her breathing was soft and steady.

Sebastian swallowed thickly in between heavy breaths, shutting his eyes for a moment, desperately trying to ground himself. But his mind was suddenly confronted by another reality: the unmistakable, insistent pressure between his legs. His entire body flushed as he shifted slightly, trying in vain to will it away before she woke up and–

“Mmph,” she murmured, causing him to freeze. She stirred with a sleepy inhale, shifting slightly against him.

“Seb?” Her voice was thick with sleep, her breath warm against his skin.

He silently cursed under his breath. Clenching his jaw, he tried desperately to calm himself before she noticed. Quietly, he pressed his palm against his growing arousal under the covers, in an attempt to hide it, biting back a groan to avoid drawing her attention.

Bee lifted her head slightly, her hand tightening against his stomach for just a second before she lifted up enough to see him. 

“You okay?” she murmured, voice still groggy but with a touch of concern.

Sebastian swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Just… woke up too fast.”

She furrowed her brows, fingers grazing against his chest absentmindedly.

“Bad dream?” she probed.

Sebastian exhaled through his nose. He couldn’t exactly tell her. Couldn’t explain how his subconscious had dragged him through something so intimate, something so raw – something he had no right to want from her.

So instead, he just murmured, “Something like that.” 

He shifted onto his side, turning away from her, and she followed suit, her arm still wrapped around him, her warmth pressed against his back. He could feel her watching him intently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked, voice quiet, gentle.

Merlin, no. 

There was no reality in which he would ever speak this into existence.

But out loud, all he said was, “No. It’s okay.”

He sensed her nod against his back. With a slow exhale, she relaxed, her body moulding easily against his once again.

Silence settled between them, but Sebastian’s mind was far from still.

He was at war with himself.

Desire still lingered in him, searing him with that dream. The one he couldn't afford to think about. The one he was trying so hard to shove back into the recesses of his mind. His body still traitorously ached from it. Her dreamlike touch still burned against his skin, even though she hadn't touched him like that.

Because that wasn’t what this was.

She wasn’t his to dream about. She wasn’t here for that.

She was here because he had woken up shaking again, the second time that week. Because she had heard him. Because she had come to him like she always did. And here she was, curled against him, grounding him, comforting him. Holding him together. And what had his mind done in return? Twisted her kindness into something–

He clenched his jaw, shame pressing in his ribs.

He told himself it was just a dream – dreams weren’t real, he couldn’t control them. They weren’t his fault. But that was a weak excuse, and he knew it. Just like that time in the shower not too long ago.

Some part of him had wanted it, had conjured it from his own mind. And worse, some part of him still wanted it, even now, even as she lay beside him.

The guilt gnawed at him.

He should pull away. He should put distance between them, roll onto his back, shake her off, something.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, he lay there, rigid and restless, while her arm remained draped over him, fingers curled slightly into his shirt as if even in sleep, she refused to let him slip away.

His throat tightened.

Why?

He wasn’t easy to care about. He wasn’t good at being cared for. He fucks up. He drives people away. He’d made a mess of everything ten years ago. And yet, she was still there.

Hasn’t she had enough of his shit by now?

“…Why do you do this?” he found himself asking, voice quieter than he meant.

Bee let out a small, sleepy hum. “Do what?”

“This.” The word felt too small for what he meant. He swallowed hard, trying to force the rest out. “Holding me. When I…” He couldn’t finish it. When I wake up shaking? When I don’t deserve it? When I wish I didn’t need it but I do?

There was a pause. Then, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, Bee murmured, “Because I care about you, you idiot.”

Sebastian didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt like if he moved, he might shatter into pieces. 

She fell back asleep not long after, her breathing even and steady against the back of his neck.

His own body, mercifully, had calmed down enough that he didn’t have to worry about humiliating himself further.

So – very slowly and carefully, he turned to face her.

He found himself holding his breath. Her arm still lay draped over his waist, her body warm against his. Her hair had been mussed into a mess in a way that he adored. He travelled from her sleep-tousled fringe down to her slightly parted lips as she breathed deeply. His eyes lingered there, then continued their path. 

The blanket had slipped enough to reveal a few freckles were scattered across her shoulders and the sight of them stirred the quiet urge to trace them with his fingertips. His eyes drifted lower before he could stop himself – down to the soft rise of her chest, the way her top clung to her as she lay on her side. His breath hitched and he tore his eyes away, jaw tightening.

Get a grip.

But something inside him ached.

His fingers twitched where they rested against the sheets as if caught between restraint and surrender.

Carefully, tentatively, he moved closer. As if sensing him in her sleep, Bee shifted, closing the space between them. Only then did he gently reach out and pull her against his chest, wrapping his arm around her. Her nose grazed against his collarbone, her fingers lightly clutching onto the material of his shirt.

She sighed softly, instinctively tucking herself against him, as if she knew, on some unconscious level, that he needed it. It almost felt like she needed it too. 

Sebastian shut his eyes, his throat tight, his heart pounding.

He wasn’t ready for whatever this was. 

He didn’t even fully understand what this was.

But for just a little while, he let himself pretend everything was fine. 

Previous chapter

[lostsbooks]

Cannon Thief (Wattpad|Ao3)

A gift for @weirdestarrow and @grandmaash98

━━━━━━━━ ✠ ━━━━━━━━

This was dumb, This was so incredibly stupid of an idea, and it was all my sister's fault. I never should've taken that bet. I really hated Indiana right now, I hoped she'd at least have the courtesy to purchase a nice headstone for me after I was gone. It was the least she could do for having doomed me in this way. I could see it laid out in front of me: "Michigan, June 1805-May 2003. He died because his siblings were mean. He hates them all." Yeah. That would do nicely. A stupid gravestone for a stupid death. "Take one of Delaware's Cannons." she'd said, like that was at all a reasonable request. At least I'd spent Indy's money for the trip, that was the one bright side to all of this. Heaving a sigh I stretched a little, getting out the last bit of stiffness from the day of travel, looking through the winding forests I now had to navigate. I'd had plenty of time to research and find targets beforehand. I wasn't completely dumb, anything too heavy or noticeable would be an easy and fast no, something small and easy to hide was what I needed.  Which is how after what felt like hours of looking through random and (In my opinion) extremely boring pages of My brother's history led me to this spot. Hagley Museum & Library. Home to the smallest two cannons I could quickly find. and at the moment, other than the fact that I'd probably be flayed by my big brother when he heard what happened- one of them seemed to be the perfect target for this. "Well- Better to get this over with." I grumbled to nobody in particular. Small, lightweight, and in one general area. This couldn't take too long. ━━━━━━━━ ✠ ━━━━━━━━ I breathed a sigh of relief when I found it. At the moment, it was sitting in the shade of a tree, near a large old looking building and some waterways. It was a lot smaller than I expected, damn. I'd seen it before, when Delaware had brought them to dad's house for cleaning- or just to show off- but it hadn't really processed just how little they actually were. Cute, almost. Unfortunately its small size made it the perfect victim. 

Pulling out my phone I opened to my texts, quickly sending Indiana a picture for proof, and typing a new message, informing her of my arrival. I sighed and slipped it back into a pocket of the bag I'd brought, setting it down on the ground. I didn't want to risk damaging it while trying to move this thing. After circling it a couple of times, and scanning the area for a place to put it. My mind was made up, the grassy slope was exposed, and I didn't like the thought of taking it out of state, too risky. But maybe I could try move it to the forest? There had to be a decent hiding spot somewhere in there. Probably just best to try push it, carrying it wouldn't work with how far it needed to go. Even if it didn't look terribly heavy I wanted to avoid the harder option. I really should've taken the landscape into account more,  that was my main mistake. I realized that quickly a few minutes later, having assumed the weight would keep it fairly steady as it rolled along, and angled away from the hill, thinking I would be able to keep control of it without any trouble. I was wrong. after getting the cannon decently far from where i'd found it, I was making good progress to an area I thought would be hidden enough to cause confusion, but not get me into too much trouble for if I was discovered. a slightly too powerful push was all it needed, and I was able to watch in horror as the cannon's weight tipped it off the nearby hill and started gaining speed, reaching the bottom before I could do anything to stop it. ...falling right into the canal below. I was gone before I could hear the splash. Heart still pounding from a mix of fear and adrenaline, but relaxed a little on recognizing my surroundings. Safe and sound, I'd brought myself all the way over to my camp, A little pale blue house on the shore of the Big Lake. Miles and miles away from Wilmington, Delaware, and any of the shit I had just gotten myself into. Right, that. I cringed. I still have to deal with it don't I, I wonder if Ontario would take me as a refugee- No that's not far enough- He'd still find me. Mexico? That's farther- Maybe South America somewhere? Europe?????? By now the tiny wheeled thing would probably be resting in the shallows of the water. Hopefully not too uncomfortably. I felt kinda bad for putting the little thing through so much. my mood was at least slightly improved when I heard a sharp happy bark and a fuzzy medium sized dog almost bowled me over. "Hey Pepper!" I said, laughing a little, glad that, at the very least, I got to see my dog before I died. "How you doing girl? Did you get out again?" She jumped a little, shaking from excitement and nearly spinning in circles, but I pushed her back down. I'd have to fix her kennel later, as I had other things to worry about.

Settling at a nearby tree, hoping i'd think of a solution to all of this, Pepper happily followed behind me, trying to lick my exposed hands. I decided it would be best to message Indiana on what to do now. I wouldn't be able to go back to where I'd just been nearly as easily as I'd just brought myself here. Not unless I wanted to travel another dozen hours straight, which I didn't. Only- My heart dropped to the ground and I nearly choked when I realized- My phone was gone. "Shit." I said for the millionth time that day, and let out a string of curses in any language I could think of. I must've left it with my bag, I didn't have time to grab it before I left. This was bad- very bad- I didn't know what was worse, The idea of someone finding, stealing, and getting into my phone, Which would probably end up revealing a ton about me and numerous members of my family to the world. or the idea of *Delaware* finding it, And knowing I'd been the one who messed with his stuff. Yeah the second thought was way more scary. I don't know why I contested it. And being miles and miles away,  I had zero chance of managing to return in any reasonable amount of time before Delly discovered what happened and eventually found the proof that clearly pointed to me. I was dead, beyond dead. Might as well dig a grave for myself right now. after everything I'd lived through, this would be it. After panicking a little more, and giving pepper a final pat on the head, I took a breath and steeled myself to a decision. It would be better to just get this over with and confess early than just waiting here in suspense. There would be no avoiding it now, I'd only get worse the more I delayed confronting this. Maybe If I was lucky I might be able to hit Indiana before I died. ━━━━━━━━ ✠ ━━━━━━━━ :Epilogue: "You can't make me do this." I told Delaware, staring at the enormous weapon in front of me, "I have my rights." "Yes but I need my revenge." he looked over to me, evil humor sparkling in his eyes, "Besides, I think it's a fair trade for you to just do a little manual labor in exchange for not spending a few nights locked up in jail, or worse." Grimacing, I knew he was right, this was still better than the other choices. "Del that thing is bigger than my house. How do you expect me to clean it." "You should've thought that problem through before you stole my cannon. You asked for this buddy." he laughed smugly, I hated how much he was enjoying this. I sighed, and rolled up my sleeves. "Fine, Just tell me what I need."

[darkesttimelinestuff]

"Don't worry, I got you."

Day 4 of Fictober and I'm trying my hand at some spooky X-Files shit.

Prompt #2 - "Don't worry, I got you."

The muddy earth sloshed beneath their feet. Last night’s rain surely washed away most of the evidence, but Mulder insisted on seeing the body, ritualistically posed, immediately. A cloud of mist persisted in the dense forest, but the agents pressed onward toward the crime scene. 

They reached a clearing where the body lay untouched. 

“It’s right through there,” said the young officer acting as their guide.

Scully thanked her and began examining the mutilated body, Mulder close on her heel. 

The victim was young, maybe in his late teens or early twenties, and splayed out on a large rock. His was cut open, his insides draped and adorned him like fine clothes. The putrid stench that filled the air of the clearing was inescapable. 

Mulder immediately turned away in disgust, a hand to his mouth and nose blocking the smell. Instead, he examined the surrounding area for clues, keeping as far away from Scully and the victim as possible.

“Well, it’s just like the other ones,” Scully said, coming up behind him and removing her gloves. “The body is posed in the same manner. Same M.O. as before, right down to the crown of intestines.”

This was the fourth killing of this nature, but Mulder grimaced every time. “How long has he been here?”

“I’d say a few days, maybe a week. This is a pretty remote location. We’re pretty deep in the woods.”

Yeah, if that hiker hadn’t stumbled upon this, who knows how long it wouldn’t taken to find him.”

Mulder called to the local law enforcement to have the body sent to a Dr. Dana Scully at the F.B.I. A special gift, just for her. 

“What about you?” she asked. “Find anything?”

“Just like the other ones,” he echoed. He put a hand to the small of her back and led her to a set of flat rocks on the edge of the clearing. She shivered under his touch. 

On the rocks there were candles with a wreath of leaves and flowers, an ornate silver crucifix, and scattered salt. Same as before. Scully nodded and walked around the makeshift witch’s table, taking in the whole picture.

“What is it?” Mulder asked. 

Scully shook her head and circled the rocks, looking contemplative. Mulder, unsure of what to look for, followed behind. 

Without warning Mulder was on his back, taking Scully down with him. She fell onto his chest. His breath was heavy and ragged from the fall, blowing her hair with each exhale. They stared at one another in a moment of surprise. 

Scully apologized, pushing awkwardly off his chest in an effort to climb off him. Mulder stood beside her brushing dirt off his tailored suit. 

“What happened,” she asked, with genuine concern. 

“I’m not sure. There was some…”

But then he lost his balance again, his arms flailing.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Scully said, reaching out to steady him. He caught her arm, finding his balance. 

“Uneven ground,” he finished.

The agents bent to investigate the area beneath their feet. Next to them was a patch of sticks and leaves, more heavily concentrated than the rest of the clearing. 

“Mulder,” Scully said urgently. “You’re bleeding.”

She pointed to a trail of blood on his left hand.

“I didn’t even feel it,” Mulder said. 

Together she and Mulder unearthed a slightly buried dagger with a short, leather-bound handle, and discovered that Mulder had tripped on a large hole covered by forest debris. A human trap. And a folded piece of paper. 

As an officer approached them to ask about Mulder’s fall, Scully noticed Mulder slip the paper into his pocket. She held his gaze, but didn’t say anything.

*****

“So what did you find?” Mulder said by way of greeting when Scully walked through the office door. She set down her bag and two coffees. He grabbed one. 

“Nothing unusual. For this case,” she emphasized, sitting opposite Mulder. 

“I did some research on some of the witch material we found yesterday.

“Witch?” Scully arched a brow.

Not to be discouraged by Scully’s questioning, he continued. “The dagger is called an athame. It’s used in rituals, to command spirits and direct energies. In the Satanic arts.”

“Mulder…” Scully interrupted. 

“But there was also the crucifix and salt,” Mulder continued. “Someone cast a protection spell. There were two forces at work.”

“Good against evil?”

Mulder nodded. “Exactly.”

“But evil won.”

“This time.”

“What about the paper?” Scully inquired.

“That,” Mulder said, taking the paper from his jacket pocket and placing it on the desk in front of Scully, “is up for debate. This drawing is of the Romanian Muma Padurii, or Mother of the Forest. She is known as an ugly old woman who can transform her body. An urban folk legend used to scare children into being good.”

“Be good, kids, or the Boogie Monster will get you.”

“She lives in a dark little house in the forest,” he continued, “and kidnaps children to enslave them.”

“Or murder them,” Scully offered.

“Or maybe protect them,” he countered.

“Or a seriously disturbed person, inspired by Eastern European folklore, wants to make this look like witch’s ritual killing.”

“No, I think this witch is casting protection spells against a Satanist,” Mulder said.

“So, how do we find a shape-shifting witch?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Mulder said, smiling. “There are a large number of spells that can be used to defeat her, according to legend. Or, in our case, find her.”

“Mulder, no.”

“Get out your crystal ball, Scully. We’re going to find a witch!”

[xtruss]

Howl!

The Dark Side of Wolf Reintroduction

— By Kevin Berger | February 21, 2025

Photo By Holly Kuchera/Shutterstock

Diane Boyd walked along the North Fork of the Flathead River. It was a clear blue summer day, and the wolf biologist relished being in this Rocky Mountain valley in northwestern Montana. She set foot here 45 years ago to track the first known gray wolf to wander into the western continental United States from Canada in decades. Humans had exterminated the last of them in the 1930s

The river wove through pine, aspen, and willow trees that rose along the edge of a sprawling grass meadow. The mountain peaks in the distance were topped with snow. Boyd grew up in suburban Minnesota, where she was the neighborhood kid who could be found at the wild edges of the subdivision putting caterpillars in jars.

“I always wanted to go more and more wild in my life—wildlife, wild places—and it doesn’t get a lot wilder than here,” Boyd said to me last summer, as we walked through the quiet meadow.

At age 69, dressed in jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt picturing a dog lazing on a lake pier, Boyd seemed very much the innately independent biologist who settled here at age 24. She spoke with a directness that had little room for sentimentality. The meadow area is called Moose City and was originally a 1910s homesteader ranch with six log cabins. Boyd lived alone in one of the tiny cabins without electricity or running water for 12 years.

She was the rare woman among the congeries of male wildlife biologists, loggers, and hunters who traversed the valley in the 1980s and ’90s. She showed me the path where two loggers snuck up on her cabin one night, asking to come inside. “Step out where I can see you,” Boyd told them, staring down the barrel of her rifle she used to hunt deer and elk. The men turned and left.

Wolf Reintroduction is a Huge and Messy Paradox, A Noble Intention to Save the Wolf Soaked in the Wolf’s Own Blood.

Boyd gained a reputation as the elusive wolf biologist with a preternatural ability to find and trap wolves in the forest. Boyd used traps with smooth steel jaws that clamp around a wolf’s leg when they step on a spring-loaded disc buried in a spot where a wolf might step, like around a big rock in a deer trail. Shock and stress rifle through wolves’ bodies when the jaws snap on their leg. “It’s painful and terrifying for them,” Boyd said. “They’re top predators. They’ve never dealt with something they can’t fight or conquer. Trapping is never kind.” Boyd apologized to each wolf before tranquilizing and fitting her or him with a radio-transmitter collar.

Boyd tracked wolves in the heat, snow, on foot, skis, and a small plane with bush pilot Dave Hoerner. Her research revealed where wolves traveled and denned, what they ate, when they stayed with their packs or went solo, how they affected other animals, and how they died. She couldn’t be bothered with humans. (In 1993, a Sports Illustrated reporter spent 56 days trying to track Boyd down for an interview.)

She grinned when I mentioned her notoriety. “I was a complete misanthrope,” she said. “I didn’t have time to pussyfoot around socializing. I would rather just do my work. But I’ve mellowed and am much more social now.”

Last September Boyd published her first book, a memoir, A Woman Among Wolves. She captivatingly details her life in the wild, offering as close to a wolf’s-eye view of the Northern Rockies as we’re likely to see. Later in the book, as she takes stock of the state of wolves today, she delivers a stinging claim: “Wolf recovery is all about people and very little about wolves.”

In 1995, after an epic political battle between conservationists and conservative politicians, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the federal agency that manages America’s wildlife and wildlands, transplanted a total of 12 gray wolves from Canada into Idaho and Yellowstone National Park. At least twice that many had taken up residence in Montana on their own.

The gray wolf is the species of wolf most of us imagine a wolf to be, in reality and dreams, with its commanding body and thick rich coat, slender and strong legs, speeding across a meadow with its pack mates to take down an elk. It’s the biggest wolf species of all.

“They’re just incredibly clever and social animals,” Boyd said. “They feel things, they care, they’re playful.” Wolves form packs that are usually extended families—a breeding male and female, offspring, siblings. Sometimes they adopt. “They organize just like people,” Boyd said. “They hunt in packs because they’re not efficient as a single predator. They need to cooperate, communicate, and maintain a social order. They kill other wolves to protect their family and resources. They defend their territory to the death. It’s not an easy life. Wolves on average live a little over four years.”

Today, about 2,700 gray wolves range across Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming, raising new generations of pups and delighting observers, who in 2022 spent $82 million in the greater Yellowstone area of Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho just to watch wolves.

Woman Among Wolves 🐺🐺🐺: Diane Boyd, with Sky and Benny, at her cabin in Remote Northwestern Montana in 2024. In the surrounding forest, Boyd tracked and studied wolves for more than 40 years. Photo by Kevin Berger.

As wolf reintroduction marks its 30th anniversary this year, Defenders of Wildlife, an environmental group instrumental in ushering it into law, calls it “one of most celebrated ecological experiments in history and an extraordinary conservation victory.” A veritable library of books and articles published in the past three decades tells a similar story.

Boyd, however, is telling a different one.

“I am absolutely certain wolves would be here in the numbers they are now just through natural dispersal,” Boyd said to me. “But natural recolonization was effectively killed by reintroducing the wolves.”

Once the government stepped in, Boyd said, the Westerners who hated wolves had a reason to hate them even more. That led to angry protests and dead wolves.

“Humans don’t like to have stuff foisted on them,” Boyd said. “It’s always perceived as a black-helicopter government—government forced on them, watching them. If wolves came on their own there would have been higher social tolerance of them. They would be better off now if they’d never been introduced.”

I actually met Boyd once before, in 1989. Plans to return wolves to the Rockies had been stirring in the environmental news. My brother Todd and I arrived here to string together the story, meeting ranchers and hunters who told us how much they hated the idea because wolves would devour cattle, sheep, and elk.

We lived in San Francisco and tried to be objective but apparently didn’t do such a great job of it. The head of the Montana Stock Growers Association said to us, “Well, boys, if you want wolves so much, why don’t you let them go in Golden Gate Park?”

Illustration By Jorge Colombo

We managed to coax Boyd into an interview one night with the help of her friendly colleague, Mike Fairchild. Their research was part of the Wolf Ecology Project at the University of Montana at Missoula, where Boyd had received her master’s degree in wildlife biology and later her Ph.D.

Boyd informed us that hunters and ranchers drummed up opposition to the wolves by exaggerating their numbers and the number of pups they could bear. Boyd’s accurate counts and insights into wolf biology were golden to early reintroduction advocates.

Back then, I had assumed Boyd was on the side of wolf reintroduction. So, I was surprised to learn many years later that she had never supported it. As a nature lover from a big city—Boyd calls us “greenies”—I had taken it for granted that wolf reintroduction was a progressive act, restitution for Americans having slaughtered a million and more wolves in the 1800s and 1900s. Without the wolf, a predator key to natural ecological relationships, the American wilderness was diminished.

After many conversations with Boyd, key architects of wolf reintroduction, wolf scientists, animal trappers, ranchers, animal welfare experts, and environmental lawyers, I have to say my view now is not so green. I learned how wolves suffered and died in the course of reintroducing them.

Built on the foundations of conservation and science, shaped by industry and politics, wolf reintroduction is a huge and messy paradox, a noble intention to save the wolf soaked in the wolf’s own blood. For the 2,700 wolves that roam the Northern Rockies today, data shows at least five times as many have been killed in the past three decades. From 2021 to 2023 alone, hunters and state wildlife managers legally killed more than 1,500 wolves in Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming.

Was Boyd right? Would the wolves be better off now without introduction?

The First Wolf That Wandered Alone into Montana 46 years ago was doing what her kin had done for millenia, branching out from her family to find a mate and territory to call her own. She didn’t know there was a border between Canada and the United States. The forest that ranged across both countries was the same place to her.

She was, after all, a wolf.

For years, the wolf traveled hundreds of miles on her own. She investigated “beaver lodges, deer sites, coyote urinations, river bottoms, and mountain ridgelines,” Boyd wrote in her memoir. After three years of roaming alone, the intrepid wanderer found a mate. The pair’s sleeping sites in the forest showed they curled up together, and in the spring of 1982, they had seven pups.

In the following hot summer, the male was accidentally snared in a trap set by grizzly bear researchers. He died the next day, likely from the heat and stress of the capture, Boyd believed. The “plucky and lucky” single mom provided for her pups alone. They survived the humans populating the land around them and had litters themselves in the Northern Rockies.

The growing families settled in forest areas like river drainages where they found plenty of elk, deer, moose, and bighorn sheep to feed on. And sometimes, but rarely, when wolves were on the hunt, they came across a ranch and took down a steer calf or lamb.

Some long-distance sojourners walked from northwestern Montana to Idaho to establish new packs. One female traveled more than 500 miles from Montana to a new territory in British Columbia. Had she traveled south instead of north, Boyd wrote, she would have settled about 100 miles south of Yellowstone. She could have been hugging the border of Colorado.

In 1985, a female wolf with a creamy white coat was traversing the mountains surrounding the Moose Creek meadow, searching for a mate. She found him and by May that year had built a den just north of Montana’s Glacier National Park, where the white wolf nursed and played with her seven new black pups. She had five more pups the next year, this time inside the park.

“Wolf Recovery Is All About People and Very Little About Wolves.”

The white wolf was canny and intelligent. Boyd used her best tricks to try and capture her. She wanted to replace her radio collar before its signal failed. But the “white phantom” kept outwitting her. The white wolf would paw the dirt around Boyd’s traps, expose the buried piece of metal, and pull the trap to the ground, sometimes without springing it. She would defecate to the side of the trap, “proclaiming this turf as hers,” Boyd wrote.

Family dynamics in a wolf pack never stand still. In 1987, the white wolf was deposed as the breeding female from her pack. Her allure, though, hadn’t faded, and in just months she found a new mate and gave birth to her third litter of pups. Something roiled her previous pack, and some of the members rejoined the white wolf to help raise her new family.

In September that year, five of the white wolf’s pups ran afoul of Canadian hunters and poachers, who shot and killed them. The remaining wolves who had lived with the white wolf fled south to their old pack in the sanctuary of Glacier National Park, “seemingly understanding the danger of the British Columbia wolf hunting season,” Boyd wrote.

The white wolf, solitary again, wandered for years through the Northern Rockies. She was 9 years old in 1992, elderly for a wolf, and lingered in the foothills near a forestry camp in Alberta, Canada, where an outfitter shot and killed her.

Before she died, the white wolf trotted across the Moose City meadow toward Boyd’s cabin. She locked eyes with Boyd and then turned around and trotted back in the direction she had come from, disappearing into the willows. Boyd wondered why the white wolf had come. Did she recognize her scent from her traps? Boyd decided the white wolf had “dropped by to let me know that she was still out there, still in control, and still smarter than me.”

The Debut: Bruce Babbitt (Far Right), Secretary of Interior in 1995, helps carry the first wolf for reintroduction into Yellowstone. Babbitt’s endorsement of reintroduction, after years of political battles over it, was critical. Photo by Jim Peaco/National Park Service.

While Wolves Were Doing Wolf Things in the Northern Rockies, humans had big ideas for them.

For wildlife conservationists, bringing back the wolves would restitch the ecological tapestry of animal and plant species in the areas from which the wolves had been excised, especially the iconic Yellowstone, the nation’s first national park.

The vision of the wolf’s ecological role was inherited from naturalist and writer Aldo Leopold. In his posthumous 1949 book A Sand County Almanac, Leopold told a wistful tale of his awakening to the wolf as an embodiment of interwoven nature.

Leopold was a hunter. One day he and his companions shot a wolf, as they had done many times before. “We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes,” Leopold wrote. “I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes—something known only to her and to the mountain.”

Leopold, educated in forestry, wrote that without a predator like the wolf to take down elk and deer (both are a prime wolf meal), the ungulates would overgraze and impoverish “the flora, from wildflowers to forest trees,” in their habitats. This was visibly true in Yellowstone in the 1940s, where “the elk are ruining the flora.”

Meanwhile, conservative politicians had their own vision. The restoration of wolves would be a major affront to their constituent developers, ranchers, and hunters.

In 1985, Wyoming Representative Dick Cheney read an interview in the Casper Star-Tribune with National Park Director William Penn Mott. Mott said wolf reintroduction would “add a great deal to the natural values of Yellowstone and balance the ecosystem.” Cheney immediately wrote to Donald Hodel, the secretary of the interior, Mott’s boss: “I just want you to know that I am every bit as committed to preventing government introduction of wolves as Bill Mott is determined to put them there.”

Republican Representative Ron Marlenee of Montana opted for the rhetorical dig. “Will the wolf be just another ploy by ‘green bigots’ to block development in Montana?”

Those anecdotes come from the book Wolf Wars by Hank Fischer, the definitive insider account of the political machinations behind introduction. Fischer was the Northern Rockies representative of Defenders of Wildlife. He worked unflaggingly on behalf of reintroduction for 15 years, including facing off with the conservative politicians in their Capitol Hill offices. Early in the battles he instituted a key strategy, the Wolf Compensation Fund, a pool of money from donors to reimburse landowners for livestock killed by wolves.

For Fischer, like the Yellowstone managers who set wolf reintroduction in motion in the 1970s, ecological restoration was the Holy Grail. Fischer explained in Wolf Wars that he was inspired less by the wolves themselves than by a vision of Yellowstone where you could experience “the intricate interplay of wolves; elk; aspen; beetles; ravens; fire; weather; and people, the aspect of the equation all too often overlooked.”

Like all wars, victory was going to depend on compromise. In this case the compromise involved the Endangered Species Act.

The act was passed by Congress with nary an objection and signed into law by President Nixon in 1973. The politically savvy Nixon was no environmentalist, but his statement when he signed the Endangered Species Act underlined its central goal: the preservation of “the rich array of animal life with which our country has been blessed.”

The Endangered Species Act was riding a wave of environmental good will on both sides of the political aisle that practically seems naïve today. It followed the Clean Air Act, Clean Water Act, and the National Environmental Policy Act into law. The lawyers and scientists who wrote the Endangered Species Act, and the lawmakers who sold it on Capitol Hill, saw it as recompense for animals rendered extinct by “economic growth and development untempered by adequate concern and conservation.”

The gray wolf, victim of inadequate concern for conservation throughout America’s history, was added to the Endangered Species List in 1974.

Environmental law scholar David Takacs, an emeritus professor of law at the University of California, College of the Law, San Francisco, told me he considered the Endangered Species Act “the most radical statute ever passed by the U.S. Congress of any kind. It said the value of non-human species is incalculable, and the needs of those species take precedence over the needs of humans in the United States.”

The Endangered Species Act sought to save a species by also protecting its critical habitat. Development plans that jeopardized critical habitat were subject to review by the Department of the Interior. That was where the radical law met its match.

The ink on the Endangered Species Act was barely dry when the critical habitat distinction made headlines. A tiny, endangered snail darter fish was in danger of losing its habitat if a dam in Tennessee was built. The law held up construction for two volatile years.

Never mind that Congress managed to get the snail darter exempted from the Endangered Species List, the dam was built in 1979, and decades later a scientist determined the snail darter wasn’t, technically, even a snail darter. The dam brouhaha generated bad vibes for the critical habitation distinction and dissolved much of the bipartisan good will for the Endangered Species Act.

In 1982, Republicans in Congress sealed an amendment into the Endangered Species Act that defanged critical habitat protection. Endangered species could now be classified as “nonessential experimental populations.” “Nonessential” meant the reintroduced population wasn’t critical to its overall survival in the U.S. Indeed, there were sustainable populations of gray wolves in Alaska and Minnesota. “Experimental population” meant that recovery of an endangered species would be confined to a specific management zone.

The “Plucky and Lucky” Single Mom Provided For Her Pups Alone.

The new amendment, known as “10(j)” for its section listing in the Endangered Species Act, undercut the federal power of the Act by inviting state wildlife agencies, with their own agendas, into the room to shape wildlife management plans. It also overruled the section of the Endangered Species Act that prevented citizens from “taking”—that is, killing—an endangered species. Landowners whose livelihoods were threatened by an endangered species could now be permitted to kill the animal themselves.

Takacs, coauthor of a journal article, “Wolf Law,” which pored over all the legal actions behind wolf reintroduction in the Northern Rockies, said it was likely the 10(j) amendment was added with wolves in mind. A Senate report on the amendment mentioned wolves as an example of an experimental population that could be killed if “depredations occur or if the release of these populations will continue to be frustrated by public opposition.”

The 10(j) amendment was inserted into the wolf recovery plan by the architects of the plan themselves. They constituted a 10-member team under the aegis of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that included wildlife experts from the National Park Service, Idaho Department of Fish and Game, and the National Audubon Society. Bob Ream, founder of the Wolf Ecology Project, was also on the team. Ream was opposed to reintroduction and favored allowing the wolves to return on their own, as his mentee, Boyd, would favor after him. Ream was outvoted.

The decision by the recovery team to include the 10(j) amendment flipped the Endangered Species Act on its head, Takacs said. “The Endangered Species Act is supposed to be about managing people for the benefit of endangered species. But the recovery plan showed the Fish and Wildlife Service was about managing wolves for the benefit and convenience of people.”

This was Boyd’s point. The welfare of the wolves would have been better served if they were allowed to return on their own, shielded by the unexpurgated Endangered Species Act. With the 10(j) amendment, Boyd said, “Wolves could now be shot for killing livestock. If the wolves walked in on their own, nobody could have touched them.”

Sarcasm Was Creeping Into Ed Bangs’ Voice. “ ‘Oh, if the wolves had just come on their own, people would have been so accepting, and there wouldn’t be all this controversy.’ That’s a fairy tale.”

The gregarious Bangs, with a deadly dry sense of humor, greatly admires Boyd. When he arrived in Montana in 1988 to take charge of wolf recovery for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, he said, “I realized the only people who knew anything about wolves were Diane and Bob [Ream] and Mike Fairchild of the Wolf Ecology Project.”

Boyd worked briefly for Bangs in the late ’90s, monitoring wolves and working with ranchers to resolve conflicts with wolves without killing them, such as installing fences with flapping flags and noisemaking devices that deter the wolves. They have also been coauthors on academic papers. Bangs just didn’t buy Boyd’s view that wolves would have survived on their own.

Bangs oversaw reintroduction in the Northern Rockies for 23 years. In the late ’80s he led more than 500 community meetings, mostly in rabid anti-wolf counties, the voice of pragmatism in a din of anger. No, wolves don’t attack people; no, wolves that came down from Canada aren’t mutant giants; no, wolves won’t wipe out the elk and deer for hunters; and yes, wolves can be managed to protect ranchers’ livestock (with some killing).

During the meetings, Bangs told me from his home in Helena, Montana, “I can’t tell you how many people walked up to me and bragged, ‘My granddad killed the last wolf in this county. And Granddad was carried through the streets on a chair, he was a hero.’ That’s the culture here. It’s never gone away. So, are you going to tell these people they can’t do anything when a wolf comes into their backyard? Those wolves are dead. People only obey laws they think are fair. You are going to have lethal control of wolves whether it’s legal or not.”

What’s more, the reintroduction train was out of the station. There was no turning back. The train was also now fueled by plenty of other people who were excited about the opportunity to see wolves in the wild, or just knew they were out there, reviving nature. The amendment that defanged the Endangered Species Act provided final passage.

“You have to understand, these guys could have stopped this thing any time,” Bangs said, referring to the anti-wolf congressmen in Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. “If the environmentalists had argued in court, ‘We should reintroduce wolves as fully endangered, with no control for depredating wolves,’ reintroduction would have never happened. Those guys would have killed that in a heartbeat.”

Begrudgingly, the conservative congressmen backed off. Wolves would be reintroduced as experimental populations in three management zones: northwest Montana, central Idaho, and greater Yellowstone, which included the park and contiguous areas of Idaho and Montana. In 1994, the Department of the Interior signed off on the recovery plan; a final battle against wolf opponents in a Wyoming district court was won.

The stage was set for bringing wolves back to the Northern Rockies.

Holding Pen: A wolf sprints from its shipping container into a holding pen in Yellowstone. Wolves were caged in the pens for several weeks to acclimate to the scents of their new habitat in the park. Photo by Jim Peaco/National Park Service.

Enter Carter Niemeyer. Wildlife Services is a federal agency that may not be well known outside rural America. It’s the agency that fields calls from landowners who report a wild animal—wolf, bear, coyote, mountain lion, fox—has killed their livestock (or dogs). An agent is then dispatched to capture, relocate, or even kill the animal.

The federal government has granted the agency the power to kill wild animals since it was founded in 1885. During America’s Westward Ho days, the agency itself helped wipe out the wolves. Since then, it’s killed millions of wild animals across the country. In the past 30 years, it’s killed hundreds of wolves.

At the dawn of wolf reintroduction, Niemeyer was the western Montana district supervisor of Wildlife Services, then called, less euphemistically, Animal Damage Control. He had trapped and killed thousands of coyotes, foxes, elk, moose, and practically every other animal that moved in the wild. He hadn’t killed a wolf yet. He would kill 13 before his career was over.

Niemeyer, however, was known as the most scrupulous trapper in the business. He didn’t just take ranchers’ word that a wolf or bear killed their livestock and sign off on a permit so the rancher could be reimbursed. He knew how to identify the signs of each predator’s means of killing or whether livestock had accidentally killed themselves from tangling with a fence or died from disease or infection. Niemeyer made the final calls for the Defenders of Wildlife’s reimbursement program.

Niemeyer and Bangs quickly bonded in the wolf recovery drama. The folksy Niemeyer also has an ingratiating sense of humor, evident in his 2010 memoir, Wolfer. It could have been called Confessions of an Animal Killer for its disarming candor and wistful tone of penitence. However, I must say, as a greenie, even a reformed one, Niemeyer’s—and Bangs’—matter-of-fact manner of describing killing wild animals can be a little alarming.

As wolves began finding new homes in the Northern Rockies, the unflappable Niemeyer brought calm to landowners who demanded that he come out to their ranches, and track down and kill the wolves devouring their cattle and sheep. Most of the alarms were set off by hot air. During the first few months of 1994, Niemeyer did necropsies on more than 100 sheep, cattle, and horses that landowners claimed had been killed by wolves. Niemeyer found that only five of the animals—four calves and a lamb—were wolf victims. (A report by the Humane Society of the U.S. found that wolves, based on data from 2015, killed 0.04 percent of cattle and sheep in the Northern Rockies.)

Niemeyer’s and Bangs’ first real challenge together came in 1989, when the duo arrived at a northern Montana ranch where the landowner insisted that a pack of wolves had killed four of his calves. “No, sir,” Niemeyer said, after examining them. This time the rancher wouldn’t buy Niemeyer’s evaluation, and didn’t keep his anger to himself. “The local newspapers had convicted the wolves, and so had the neighbors for miles around,” Niemeyer wrote.

Bangs held firm and didn’t order the wolves to be trapped or killed. Not long afterward, the pack did attack a few livestock. This time Bangs and Niemeyer trapped them—two adults and two pups—and shipped them to the sanctuary of Glacier National Park. It was September, and Bangs miscalculated that the pups could find food—small game and carrion—that late in the year. “Both pups starved to death,” Bangs said.

Bangs trapped the adult male to move him. His colleagues (not Niemeyer) bandaged the wolf’s damaged foot and released him with the bandage on. “That was a rookie mistake, but a horrible mistake,” Bangs said. “I saw that his leg was infected and so the main thing to do was euthanize him. So I shot him with the rifle I borrowed from the rancher who was with me. I was sad. You know, we screwed up. We messed up. I mean, we’re not perfect. We made mistakes.”

When wolf reintroduction finally got the green light in 1994, Niemeyer was the person for the job to bring the wolves down from Canada.

Bangs first sent an assistant to coordinate the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service plans with Canadian trappers. The Service had already signed a contract with a local Canadian to trap wolves for $2,000 each—and not kill them. But when Niemeyer got to Alberta in November, he found the assistant had done little to keep in contact with the trappers, and his office in a motel was a mess.

“I was alarmed at the lack of preparation for this historic moment in conservation,” Niemeyer wrote in Wolfer. As “far as I could tell, the Fish and Wildlife Service had put almost no thought into how we’d actually obtain the wolves.”

Niemeyer drove to the dense forest cabin of the hired Canadian trapper himself. The trapper and two of his buddies were angry because they hadn’t heard from the Fish and Wildlife Service in weeks. They had already captured nine wolves. When they didn’t hear from the U.S., they killed all nine, skinned them, and sold their hides for about $400 each.

The head trapper didn’t believe Niemeyer was there to finally pay them. “Why should I believe another government biologist in a government truck with government plates,” he told Niemeyer at the time. The trappers wanted Niemeyer to prove himself. They brought in two big dead black wolves from their pickup truck and challenged Niemeyer to a race to see who could skin a wolf the fastest.

The contest was held in the head trapper’s dining room, and Niemeyer held the dead and bloody wolf in his lap. It had been shot in the head, presumably to end its struggle in the trap. Niemeyer and one of the trappers pulled out their knives and began their macabre contest. The head trapper’s wife brought them glasses of wine. After a couple of hours, with his clothes soaked in the wolf’s blood and feces, Niemeyer finished first. He and one of the trappers carried the fur-less carcass to the back door and tossed it on the icy deck. To the trappers, Niemeyer could now be trusted. “He’s one of us,” the head trapper said to his buddies, as Niemeyer recounted in Wolfer.

The next day, the Canadians trapped three wolves. They weren’t using leg traps but neck snares made of a thin, strong cable attached to tree trunks that lassoed the wolves around the neck and stretched tight as they tried to escape. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service contract stipulated that the neck traps have metal stops on the cables that snare tight enough to hold the wolf by the neck but not strangle it to death.

“We Messed Up. I Mean, We’re Not Perfect. We Made Mistakes.”

One trapped wolf was an adult female silver wolf whose weight was on the slight side. The cable was so tight around her neck that Niemeyer had to snip it off with cable cutters. She was limp and freezing and the corners of her mouth were deeply cut from biting the long stem of her noose. The other two traps held her pups. Niemeyer freed one of them. The snare had tightened around her shoulder and not her neck, saving her from being strangled. Her leg was badly cut. The other pup was dead and frozen in the brush. The next day, with mother and her lone pup in holding pens, Niemeyer called a vet to suture the cuts on their lips and legs.

Over the next year, Niemeyer said, the operation ran better. But not for the wolves. They were still being traumatized when captured in traps and put in holding pens. The wolves often cracked and broke their teeth on the bars in pens, trying to escape. Neimeyer and his colleagues also shot wolves with tranquilizer darts from planes as the wolves ran through the forest. Sixty-six wolves in total were captured and then released in Yellowstone and Idaho in 1995 and 1996.

One day in 1996, Niemeyer stood by the pen of a particularly aggressive wolf. The wolf made long eye contact with him. “The message was clear: He was fed up with people bothering him,” Niemeyer wrote.

The wolf was flown to Missoula, Montana, where biologists examined his health and penned him, before he would be trucked to Idaho for release. One of the wildlife biologists slipped ice under the pen’s sliding door for the wolf to lick and the wolf lunged and bit the biologist’s finger. As government policy required for any wolf who bit a person, the wolf was killed and tested for rabies. It was negative.

​​Last September, talking with Niemeyer, I remarked that reintroducing the wolves back to the Northern Rockies literally began in a pool of wolf blood in that trapper’s dining room. “Bingo,” he said. “It’s symbolic, and an irony I’ve had to live with. It was an ugly side of the business that needed to be done. I’m just saying, from my 33 years in the field, if you don’t have the stomach for dead wolves, reintroduction ain’t for you.”

Doug Smith Sighed. Smith was the project leader of wolf reintroduction and wolf management in Yellowstone for 28 years. He retired in 2022. With his bushy walrus mustache, he is the quintessential field scientist, a genial and sympathetic guide to the wolves in Yellowstone, whose unique personalities he got to know over his many years in the park.

He wasn’t agitated about Niemeyer’s bloody account. In “How Wolves Returned to Yellowstone,” published in a 2020 book of scholarly essays, Yellowstone Wolves, co-edited by Smith, he and his coauthors recommend Niemeyer’s book Wolfer “for a personal account of the challenges” of retrieving the first wolves from Canada.

Rather, it was Boyd’s conviction that wolves would have repopulated Yellowstone on their own that had Smith “animated,” he said.

Like Bangs, Smith wanted to impress on me that he admired Boyd, and they were friends. And he agreed that wolves did travel hundreds, even thousands of miles through the Northern Rockies, and did reach Yellowstone from northern Montana. But the individual wolves were shot, he said, before they could form new packs.

Smith was all for the idea of natural recolonization. It has been successful in other states. While humans in the 1900s were finishing off wolves in the Western U.S., some wolf packs survived in northern Minnesota. Wolves likely from Minnesota returned on their own to Wisconsin in the ’70s and Michigan in the ’80s. Both states host wolf populations today. In those three states, Smith said, “it’s continuous forest. Wolves aren’t as visible in forests. They have places to hide. There are corridors connecting Minnesota to the Upper Peninsula Michigan and northern Wisconsin. So natural recovery was the best decision there.”

But not a good decision for Yellowstone. The GYE (Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem), comprising the park in Wyoming and contiguous lands in Montana and Idaho, “is an ecological island surrounded by a sea of humanity,” Smith said. “When you hit the edge of the island, you go into roads, private land, and open country, and wolves get shot in open country. It’s a human-dominated landscape with guns and cars everywhere—a gauntlet the wolves have to get through.” And they haven’t got through it, Smith said. From 1995 to 2024, “we have not documented wolves making it to the GYE from where Diane says they would have come from.”

There Will Be Blood: Carter Niemeyer, with an animal trap, was sent to Canada to build relationships with local wolf trappers who would capture the wolves for reintroduction. It was a bloody affair. Photo by AP Photo/Lionel Cironneau.

Boyd had said the 10(j) amendment to the Endangered Species Act, which permitted landowners to shoot wolves themselves, was ultimately detrimental to their recovery. Smith disagreed. He claimed the amendment “made reintroduction more palatable and acceptable to the public.”

“Diane is right,” said Adrian Treves, a professor of environmental studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he founded the Carnivore Coexistence Lab. Treves explained to me that the 10(j) amendment is a forerunner of current laws that grant state wildlife agencies the right to cull wolves and the public the right to hunt them. Legalized wolf killing, Treves said, has not made the public more tolerant of wolves—namely the part of the public likely to do the killing, landowners and hunters.

“With legalized killing, the government has sent a signal to would-be poachers that wolves have little value,” Treves told me. What’s more, “People feel like, ‘OK, it’s more acceptable now to kill wolves because the government’s doing it. And if they don’t do it, I’m going to help them out.’ ”

In 2001 and 2004, Treves and colleagues mailed a total of 1,900 surveys to Wisconsin residents who lived in wolf country, the north part of the state. Then they recontacted 650 of those residents in 2009. During that time, wildlife agencies implemented a program to cull wolves who had been attacking livestock (and dogs). By 2009, Treves’ survey participants showed an increase in their fear of wolves, support for culling them, and inclination to poach them, that is, illegally kill them without a government permit.

Treves and colleagues drilled deeper into poaching in a data analysis of wolf information in Wisconsin and Michigan. From 1995 to 2012, both states went through periods when wolves were alternately protected and culled. During the periods when state wildlife managers killed wolves because they were preying on livestock, Treves and his colleague Guillaume Chapron, an ecologist at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences, calculated that the normal population growth rate of wolves had slowed down. Treves and Chapron examined data that could provide alternative biological explanations for the decline, such as a decline in wolf pack sizes, or wolves leaving the state, but that turned up empty. That left illegal killing as the best explanation. The study, Treves and Chapron pointed out, is focused not on wolf habitat in the wilderness but in a “human-dominated matrix.

It’s the Irony at the Heart of Reintroduction that it has given trappers and hunters so many wolves to kill because it was so successful. In the beginning, that success was due to “gold star, rock-solid science,” Bangs said. Wolves were captured in different areas in Canada because that would ensure that when the wolves hooked up in America, they would establish genetic diversity, key to their health and longevity. Genetic studies have shown that inbreeding among wolves (and many other animals) in an insular area sets up a high probability for the population’s extinction.

As the reintroduction plan spelled out, wolves would be considered recovered when 100 wolves inhabited each of the three recovery areas—Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming—for at least three years. The wolves met that goal in practically no time. By 2002, they had more than doubled the recovery goal, and 663 wolves traversed the Northern Rockies.

In 2011, wolves in Montana and Idaho, whose populations had grown past recovery requirements, were “delisted,” removed from the Endangered Species List. In Wyoming, court battles between wildlife agencies and conservationists broke out, and wolves were listed and delisted several times. Agencies got the upper hand in 2017, when wolves were delisted and public “harvesting” of them could resume. (Hunting has always been banned inside Yellowstone.)

The initial recovery plan gave states a place at the federal table to manage the wolves. Delisting moved them to the head of the table. Today, state wildlife departments declare they manage wolves “for a stable, self-sustaining population in suitable habitat for conservation purposes and harvest opportunity,” reads the current Idaho plan.

“Let’s Just Let Nature Take Its Course. Let Wolves Be Wolves.”

The number of wolves in Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming do exceed the federal targets that consider them recovered. But culling up to 50 percent of the wolves, as the states do, through hunting, trapping, and “harvesting” because of supposed livestock attacks, stems not from science from politics, say Boyd, environmentalists, independent conservationists, and reintroduction’s architects.

Attorney Amaroq Weiss, senior wolf advocate for the environmental group Center of Biological Diversity, told me, “No other species that has come off the federal Endangered Species List has immediately been met by the enactment of hunting and trapping seasons. That just doesn’t happen. It’s clear these wolf hunting laws and regulations are politically based.”

Cattle and hunter politics run the show, Bangs said. “There were and are professional scientists of the highest caliber in the state agencies in Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming. But politics is so polarized and bitter now. State game managers can’t make scientifically valid judgments because they’re overridden by some guy who likes to hunt.”

State game departments bank on wolf hunting licenses. From 2009 to 2023, wolf licenses generated $5.4 million for Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, about 10 percent of its total hunting license revenue. Montana’s current governor, Greg Gianforte, a hunter, legally trapped and then shot a radio-collared wolf leaving Yellowstone in 2021. He was given a warning by his own wildlife department for not having taken a required trapping course.

In 2021, Gianforte signed a bill with newly relaxed rules for wolf hunting in Montana. Hunters can now trap wolves with neck snares, use bait to lure them, hunt them at night with artificial lights, kill them with crossbows or handguns. Hunters can trap and kill up to 20 wolves each. License sales have no limit. From 2021 to 2023, according to Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, licensed hunters killed more than 750 wolves in the state. Meanwhile, in Idaho in 2021, a bill passed that ruled hunters could use ATVs to run down wolves and use dogs to chase them into spots where they were easier to shoot. In 2021 and 2022, according to the Idaho Department of Fish and Game, Idaho wolf hunters and trappers killed more than 800 wolves.

Counterpoint: Doug Smith, former leader of wolf reintroduction in Yellowstone, praised his friend Diane Boyd for her pioneering research. But he refuted her view that wolves could have recovered on their own. Photo courtesy of U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

Amid the carnage, there are small steps being taken by some hunters and ranchers to deal with wolves in nonlethal ways. Montana rancher and hunter, Denny Iverson, told me that he was never in favor of wolf reintroduction. He agreed with Boyd that the government’s hand in restoring the wolves riled his fellow ranchers and natural recovery under the Endangered Species Act “would have been more accepted. The fact that they’ve come on their own and they are protected gives you a little pause before you start flinging lead.”

Iverson’s family has run a relatively small ranch of 130 cattle in western Montana for generations. For a period of six years in the 2010s, Iverson said, while his cattle were grazing in open pasture, he lost one or two calves a year to wolves, about 10 in total. He is also on the board of directors of Blackfoot Challenge, a nonprofit organization that brings the community together in the 1.5 million-acre Blackfoot wilderness region to resolve problems including river pollution, overzealous logging, development, and recreation—and livestock predation by bears and wolves.

Blackfoot Challenge’s programs aim to protect ranchers from hungry wolves by funding “range riders” who patrol ranchers’ grazing pastures for wolves and remove dead animal carcasses that might attract wolves. A newer technology includes fitting cattle with GPS-enabled collars that track and give them a mild shock if they venture outside their open pasture grazing areas. Iverson credits the programs for keeping his cattle safe from wolves and bears for the past six years. But politics was working against the nonlethal programs. “To expand and implement the programs, you need the backing of your politicians to fund them, and that’s taken longer than we hoped,” Iverson said.

Iverson admitted his ranch was small compared to his neighbors, some of whom have up to 1,400 cattle. And, yes, he said, some of his neighbors maintained the unswayable attitude toward wolves of “Shoot, Shovel, and Shut Up.”

But at the same time, Iverson told me that more ranchers than ever in his community were experimenting with the nonlethal methods of keeping wolves from their cattle. I know Iverson was eager to talk to me because he wanted to promote Blackfoot Challenge. But I welcomed his voice. It was refreshing to hear from a rancher in a community trying to live alongside wolves without shooting them.

Aiming for a bottom line on how wolves should ideally be managed, I asked Bob Crabtree, founder and chief scientist of the independent organization Yellowstone Ecological Research Center, who has studied wolves in the Northern Rockies for more than 30 years, for his view. He didn’t hesitate to offer it. “By leaving them alone.” Ultimately, wolves manage themselves. “That’s how they evolved,” Crabtree said. “They don’t like their territories to overlap with other packs. If they do overlap, wolves kill each other. If they don’t overlap, they don’t kill each other. They naturally control their own numbers. So, let’s just let nature take its course. Let wolves be wolves.”

Letting Wolves Be Wolves Was Boyd’s View of how they should be managed from the days and nights she tracked the lone wolf in Montana 46 years ago. She hasn’t changed her mind. I regaled her with all the criticism of natural recovery that I had collected from talking to others. She wasn’t fazed. Wolves navigate gauntlets of people with their own wiles every day, Boyd said. They didn’t need to be reintroduced.

“I give the wolves more credit for their resilience and intelligence. I have seen them go to amazing places and survive. We’ve documented them going everywhere, and we only document a fraction of the actual dispersals. Wolves originally from Montana have recolonized Oregon, Washington, and California.”

The wolves didn’t need to be rushed back to the Northern Rockies on the enthusiasm of their human advocates. At the slower pace of natural recovery, Boyd said, “the wolves could have had time to adapt and adjust to being more around people. Some of that adjusting means wolves who are too bold will die. Some individuals who have an innate tendency toward mixing with livestock aren’t going to make it. But other individuals can learn from ones who were shot and stay away from livestock. I just don’t get it. It’s not, ‘Would they have made it?’ They were already making it.”

Listening to Boyd, given her life among wolves, I could see a crack of light coming through the wall of arguments for reintroduction. I could picture naturally recovered wolves in the U.S. going about their daily lives.

And in a way, the wolves that first walked into Montana do live on today. Descendants of the wolves who arrived in Montana on their own and of reintroduced wolves have been breeding for generations. They have merged into one big metapopulation of wolves across Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. Nevertheless, said Bridgett vonHoldt of Princeton University, an expert in evolutionary genomics, who has studied wolves in the Northern Rockies for more than 15 years, genetics can still connect individual wolves today to the “two original stocks” of wolves from northwestern Montana and those reintroduced.

But the paradox remained. Wolves are being killed in record numbers. Yet they are now flourishing in areas from which they had been wiped out less than a century ago.

When reintroduction began, said environmental lawyer Takacs, “It was very clear that the Fish and Wildlife Service was going to manage wolves for the convenience of people. That has certainly led to an awful lot of slaughter and political agony and controversy. But at the same time, there are now a couple of thousand gray wolves in the West, and that’s amazing.”

Still, I’m torn. Would wolves, as Boyd said, be better off without reintroduction?

After my very first meeting with Boyd, my brother and I hiked into the Canadian Rockies in Alberta with a wildlife biologist, Dave Huggard. We heard the beeps on Huggard’s receiver of a radio-collared female wolf. She was forming a wide circle around us, Huggard said, as she was returning to her den of pups on a hillside, which Huggard had previously spotted.

The female began to howl and was soon answered by the howling of her pups. We stood transfixed in a symphony of howling wolves. Silence returned and we saw the female wolf standing on the embankment of the stream a few hundred yards from us. She stared at us, and we stared at her. In about five seconds, she walked up the scrubby hill to her den, out of our sight.

Our wolf encounter was before U.S. reintroduction began. Maybe the female wolf and her family would migrate into Montana on their own. Or maybe one of her pup’s offspring would be trapped, traumatized, penned, and shipped to America. I hope it wasn’t that. So perhaps I do have my answer.

— Kevin Berger is the Editor at Large of Nautilus.

[realjoearts]

in early 2019 i had been working on TWODAD for a few months at that point and had established the current packs, their leader and healers and their territories and i found myself wanting to create a tale of how the wolves first came to be in the places they now called home. that lead me to create the wolves of the new era.

the two pictured above are two of the leaders from that time who have been talked about on the blog before, those being Stag Star the first leader of Redwood Pack and Fox Star (labelled as Small Fox on the drawing) the first leader of Oak Pack. you can find out about them and their backstories and their contributions to The War of A Thousand Battles below the cut!

this post brings us 12 days closer to the 5th anniversary!

Stag Star was one of the prophesied seven who would lead the packs to their new home and he was the founding and first leader of Redwood Pack. Stag Star, born Stag and then known as Stag Claw after his coming of age ceremony, was born into a large pack consisting of several smaller family packs to the highest leader in the pack. Stag was the first born son of the highest leader putting him in a position of power from birth. Stagclaw’s pack was largely unaffected when the destruction started of nearby forests but his pack had a very specific healer who held the an important prophecy, one that would lead everyone to a new territory safe from destruction. Stag Claw was 24 (human age equivalent) when Holly Dawn informed him of the prophecy and his role as one of the prophesied seven. though not swayed by the idea at first after consulting his father who suggested to him the glory that it could bring to his name as a leader he decides to take Holly Dawn’s word as true and gather his pack as well as some others in the nearby area. soon after it was off on the journey with Stag Claw taking a major leading role as a guide. Stag Claw didn’t exactly make friends with the others of the prophecy and that was fine by him as he was in a position of power and that’s all that mattered to him.

during the trip Stag Claw became aware of the young Small Fox’s feelings for him and decided that he’d follow along with her and seem like he was going to take her on as a mate. prior to the journey Stag Claw had already been mates with a wolf in the past whom he no longer associated with due to the pair accidentally becoming pregnant. Stag Claw didn’t have to worry about taking care of these pups whoever as they were raised along side other orphans in his pack.

Fox Star was also one of the prophesied seven who would lead the packs to their new home and was also the founding and first leader of Oak Pack. Fox Star, born Small Fox (as she’s labelled in the drawing), was born into a very small pack consisting of two recently unified families and a healer who had taken refuge with the family to recover from a badly broken leg. her pack resided in a small series of burrows that had been dug by her late grandparents beneath an old tree. where her family lived and hunted were other packs but as long as they didn’t cross into the other’s territory there was no conflict between them. Small’s pack was affected a lot by the fires that were set to destroy the forests where a lot packs lived and they tried their best to live in their old home but soon it was too late for the burrow and the family had to flee. it was as they were fleeing that Small sustained her injuries from burning debris that cut deep into her skin across her shoulder blades and across her forehead.

at this time rumours of a prophecy foretold by a healer from a larger family pack named Holly Dawn. she said that their gods had chosen her to deliver their word and that they had chosen seven wolves that would lead all those who would follow to a new home far from any destruction and death they were facing in their current territories. Small just so happened to be one of these leaders that Holly Dawn had seen in the prophecy and only a few days after her 16th birthday (human age equivalent) Small Fox was summoned to meet with the rest of the prophecies leaders. it wouldn’t be long after this meeting that Small Fox was tasked with bringing all of the packs in the remainder of the forest she lived in together at an established meeting point to join together with the other leaders to journey to the land that Holly Dawn had spoken of. the journey was a hard one as they traveled across the through grassland, through the mud and stones and across swift moving rivers. over the course of the trip Small Fox, referred to as Fox Star by all unofficially, became acquainted with all of the members of the packs that she herself gathered together for the journey with her becoming especially becoming close with a wolf named Rowan Leaf who was a young spiritual leader within his pack in the old territories. Small Fox also grew close to Holly Dawn as Holly Dawn told her more and more about the dreams that she would have and of what the future held for the large travelling group.

it was during this trip that the young Small Fox would develop feelings for Stag Star that he seemed to reciprocate or at least that’s what he told Small. the two had a large age gap between them and thus Stag Star urged her to keep this little affair a secret between the two of them and so Small Fox being completely captivated by him complied. Small Fox had convinced herself that Stag Star loved her and that she would spend the rest of her life with him and that they could rule together and be happy. this captivation lasted half of the trip before Small was snapped back to reality as she soon discovers that she’s pregnant with Stag Star’s child and she freaks out. she confides in Holly Dawn and Rowan Leaf about her discovery and the pair agree to keep her secret and help her. Holly Dawn tells Small that she knows Stag Star and advises her not to tell him about her pregnancy as he’d most likely react badly. to keep anyone from finding out about the father’s real identity Rowan Leaf suggests that he pretends that he’s the father of the pups and Small agrees. after this discovery all of Small’s interest in Stag Star fades away completely.

the rest of the journey is harsh on Small but she powers on through to the new territories all the while avoiding Stag Star and sticking close to either Rowan Leaf, Holly Dawn or Sweet Star who she grew close to over the course of the trip. Small parted from the large travelling group with her own smaller group comprise of several family packs from the forest that Small originally resides in. they settle in the oak forest and start setting up a camp a little ways of the coursing river which flows through all of the territories. not too long after they settled in Small gave birth to twins which she named Red and Vixen. Small and Rowan Leaf raise the twins together in the new territories. during the time of settling there was a lot of mingling between the newly formed larger packs as boundaries were being established between the leaders and while the medics established proper care and training be provided in each pack for future medics. in this time it lead to a climate of rumours spreading about going ons in the other packs wether they be plausible or the unexplainable. it took years to fully adjust to the new territories properly and just as it seemed everything in the new land was fully adjusted bare leaf struck bringing several long and thick snowstorms to the land and outbreaks of an illness known as snow cough in all of the packs with the medics from all over travelling between each pack trying to help the sick populations. the oak pack was no different in this time with it also being heavily afflicted by this breakout with several wolves succumbing to this illness one of those wolves being Rowan Leaf. Small Fox, now more commonly known as Fox Star, and her sons were devastated by the loss of her closest and dearest friend.

it’s thought that after bare leaf had passed and the cases of snow cough dwindled that that’s when a rumour began that the now deceased Rowan Leaf wasn’t actually the young Red Fox and Vixen Fur’s fathers and that instead the father was another particular wolf who Small was close to during the journey, Stag Star. this rumour was a very popular one and like rumours do they reached out everywhere they could with the rumour finally reaching Stag Star who now had a mate and children of his own (or at least children that he acknowledged and cared about). as Holly Dawn had predicted those many years before Stag Star did not react favourably with him setting out with a patrol of his finest warriors one early new leaf morning headed directly towards oak pack territory.

that morning Small and Stag Star came face to face in her den where they exchanged some words and Small presumably told Stag Star the truth, though no one will ever really know who said what on that day as Stag Star soon after entering came out dragging the dying body of Small Fox out to the entrance for all of her pack to see. Small died on that day due to blood loss from her injuries as many in her pack did as Stag Star set his patrol on them not all died though as her sons survived and led two groups of survivors from the camp where they once called home and off to caves where they would remain. Small Fox’s death and the slaughter of what everyone thought was an entire pack of wolves was the most major catalyst in what lead to The War of A Thousand Battles.

[itsohh]

Little Mouse

A/N: Female reader, ehhh not the greatest of my works, lowkey half assed proof reading this. Not the happiest with the way it turned out but I didn’t have any alternative ideas to redo it.

Word count: 2916  

Warnings: NSFT, smut

AO3

Reclined on the couch your focus was on your phone. Furiously typing away while Tina's replies came back just as fast. A small group of your division had been taken to a large training ground in the middle of nowhere. Courtesy of Sam. There were four main locations on the grounds. The living quarters, where you currently were, the clearing, the abandoned village and the grounds forest. The forest surrounded the grounds and took up a decent chunk of the land. A clear red fence ran around the entire place to let you know where the boundary was.

Across from you, Collinn was in a similar position but with a book in hand. "Having fun?" His southern drawl was aimed at you you while you quietly giggled away. At the question, your head snapped up and turned your phone around to show him the picture of the gift she has been given. It was an actual welcome mat. It had a print of her welcome mats on it and on top of it stood Sanaa with wide eyes.

Collinn's laugh joined you as he leaned forward to look at it. "That's good." The door flung open and the pair of your heads snapped toward it. In came a rather tired-looking Liu Tze with a grimace on his face. Nøkk however, practically bounced in behind him. She certainly was in a good mood.

"How was training?" While Taina wasn't with you, Sam was in charge and he had the group of you practising your one-on-one situations.

"I need a shower." He groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It was a good warm-up." Nøkks voice was light and Liu Tze waved her off as he stalked away.

"I missed all his mines in the forest and he had to go pick them all up after we were done. I found his little hiding spot."

"Got lucky did we?" Your phone turned off and you leaned back into the couch while Collinn retreated to his book.

"Luck had nothing to do with it." She took a step forward, her voice light and her hand made contact with the couch for support.

"Sounds like luck to me and I'll prove it. Unless you're too afraid of demonstrating again. A good survey doesn't have any use without a decent sample size." Her head tilted.

"Mm weren't you scheduled to go against Collinn?"

"Oh take all the time in the word ladies but keep me out of this. I got quiiiite the book here." He waved her off and your eyes narrowed in your challenge.

"Who am I to refuse then? Hope you're ready to hobble back." She pushed off the couch and you swung your legs off and jumped up behind her.

"Ah big talk, let's see if you can back it up."

-

The area which you had been given was the abandoned village. In all reality, it was a bunch of concrete husks of builds. Secure enough for entry and combat but nothing for comfort. Without an announcer, it was up to the pair of you to run everything. It was just an honesty system but no one would gain anything by breaking it.

In the end, you were there to train and improve.

Due to the large area, she gave you five minutes in prep time. To scout out the area and set up.

Without cameras, you had come with a decent amount of proximity mines. While she could easily avoid them, you had planned to use them as a funnel, that way if she came too near you could prioritise an escape route or else get the element of surprise. Nearby to you were the flash traps you had set up, a small gadget to your own design. Small little devices almost impossible to see, attached to the doorways of your funnel and the odd one near your proximity mines. A small alcove is where you set yourself up. With decent cover and a hole to escape down, it was the perfect set-up. As your five minutes finished, all you needed to do was wait.

Time ticked by as your keen hearing listened for any new sound. Birds and the natural life of the forest around you kept from silence. That sound was peaceful, steady. Until it was distributed. A single beep went off which alerted you to her presence. It promptly stopped and you continued your scan of the room. You hadn't heard her break it. Despite her interruption, things went back to the way they were. Yet you didn't get off your high alert state. There were only two entrances to the room you were in. Only one of them allowed for silent entry and you had your eyes aimed towards it.  

"Found you." Her voice came as she suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"You have to catch me first, Nøkk." You taunted at the end of the hallway. She stepped into the room and your flash trap went off. The short cry of her voice let you know she had been affected by the flash. It would only capacitate her for a few moments. In those split seconds you had to make a decision. Either use your advantage to escape through the hole to the lower floor next to you or use the time to your advantage and try to take her down. With a deep breath, you chose the latter.

Out of your position, you slid. Without vision and hearing you were able to sweep her feet out from under her with ease. But Nøkk wasn’t one to be completely helpless. She grabbed onto your arm as she fell and brought you to the concrete floor with her. You rolled away from her and gathered yourself to your knees in a crouch but in the time you took to do so, she had recovered from the flash. Her arms were in a defensive position, negating the damage from your fists. Your legs were mounted over her waist in an attempt to restrain her. You managed to clip the side of her head electing a hiss from her stained lips. Not one to be taken out lightly her leg flicked up, and her ankle managed to catch you in the neck. With the hook around your neck, you fell backward with a choked gasp, a signal of your paused assault.

Nøkk used the window to her advantage and pushed you back. The coldness of the concrete made contact with your back and she jumped up on top of you in the exact same position you had been in moments earlier. Taking one out of Caverias book a knife slipped out from her side and was positioned directly next to your throat. She had you.

While you couldn’t see her face, you could tell she was in a somewhat playful mood by the way her head tilted from side to side. Whatever the mood had been prior, it had now shifted.

“I always did prefer teamwork.” You mumbled out much to her pleasure. A small laugh bubbled from her but she didn’t give up the knife.

“I got to ask, why the challenge little mouse?”

“Thought I’d at least avenge Lesion.” Your eyes flickered to the side for a second and she used the knife to direct your eyes back on her.

“Still think I got lucky?”

“No.” She leaned back at your response, pleased with it but there was also something else that she was searching for.

“Hmm, you know your squirming a lot.” She picked up the way your fingers itched at your side and the way your body was tense.

“There's a knife to my throat Nøkk.” She tilted her head at your comment.

“Ah but you know I won’t hurt you. Much.” Your eyes rolled in response and once again you looked away from her mask. There was something so imposing about it, like she could see directly into your soul.

“Right well, you won Nøkk. You can put away the knife now.”

“What’s my prize?”

“Pardon?”

“My prize for winning. I want one.” Her head tilted and she continued on. “How about you tell me a secret? Nothing too serious of course.” The knife drew down your shirt a little. “A little birdy told me some interesting things they had observed.” At her words, your pulse raced and your skin became cold. “I want to hear from your little lips if they're true or not.”

“You're going to need to be more specific.” The words were a little quieter and timider than you had originally intended.

“You're smart. You work well with others and in a team but we both know that in a one versus one situation, I would win. I think you just wanted an excuse to be under me.” At her words, your eyes widened and your lips parted.

“I- you, that's..”

“Go on little mouse, tell me how you feel. Tell me if I’m wrong.” She leaned in ever closer and you could feel the light fabric of her mask brush against your chin. “Confess.”

“Okay! Fine I… like more than I professionally should.” Your voice quietened with each word and she tapped the knife against your throat.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t quite hear that.”

“Yes, you did Nøkk. Don’t be mean.” Your eyes looked away from her teasing form and she leaned back with a laugh.

“Aww, hun don’t be upset. I assure you I wouldn’t put you into this situation if I didn’t feel the same.” The pair of you stared at each other at the news of her recuperated feelings. “You know it's quite flattering that you think of me in such a way without ever seeing my face. Makes me feel like you're a fan of my personality.” She teased and a breath of air hissed between your teeth. “You know I think you deserve well not a prize but a little gift for being so honest with me.” Slowly Nøkk put away the knife and one hand went toward your face. Her head leaned forward and just as she neared she lifted the bottom of her mask up. Just enough for her lips to show.

For only a second you caught the black colouring of her lips and then they were on yours. Sweet. So sweet. That was the only thing that could describe how she tasted on your lips. The fabric of her mask brushed against your face and soon your hands found their place on her steady hips. The kiss was slow, sensual. She tested the waters as she leaned down against you.

Her lips surprisingly didn't stain against yours, the liquid lipstick keeping them as perfect as could be. Only when she pulled away a little did you open your eyes. "So who told you?"

"I'll never tell my sources."

"Was it Liu Tze? Did you interrogate it out of him?" You continued to ask against her lips. She giggled, full-on giggled at the comment. A sound you swore you had never heard before. Her humour normally said with such a deadpan voice, the sound had you sucking in a deep breath of air while your face heated up.

"No. Don't bother asking hun, their secret identity is locked away." Once against her lips were pressed against yours and you couldn't help but melt against her. The hand that hand kept her mask at of the way found your face and brushed against your cheek until it reached the back of your neck where she found a steady grip to rest on.

Uncaring about the world around you, you wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against you, hard. With ease, you rolled the pair of you so that you were on top. Slowly with your face partially under the fabric of her mask, you started to trail kisses on her face down onto her neck. "I want a name Nøkk." You growled playing with a bite on the crook of her neck.

"Never."

"Nøkk." You warned but her legs wrapped around you and in that action, you soon discovered even though you were on top, she was in charge. Your face is still in her neck your eyes shut while her hips grind up against her. Despite the tactical gear the pair of you both wore, it was just thing enough for decent friction to form between the pair of you. It was enough for you to groan out, her hand forcing your head against her harder.

"Needy little mouse aren't you?" Her honey voice whispered and you felt a sudden tug at the fly of your pants.

"What are-" your voice was choked off as her clothed hand dipped into your pants.

"Soaking wet already? Good thing Grace made it waterproof." Her hips rest against the cement floor to give her a little more room to work. Her index finger swiped long in between your folds and parted your labia's with the two fingers on each side. The index finger swiped up to your clit where she started to make small circles.

"Nøkk…" Your mumbles were muffled into her while her lips curved upward at the sound. Yet her finger didn't work you for long. Nøkk retreated her hand from your body to your much displeasure electing a long sound of protest from your lips.

"Now honey don't be like that." Her legs unhooked from your body. "Besides I think it's going to be rather hard for you to take off your pants with me fingering you."

"..."

"Come sit on my face." She giggled and gave your thigh a small slap. "Up you get." In your slightly dazed state, you pulled yourself from her. On your feet, you looked down at the woman. Her elbows proper her up slightly and her mask shows off just the lower of her face. The black lipstick and her chin.

"Don't keep me waiting." Her voice snapped you back down to earth and you went to the boot in hand. Unlacing them was quick and you promptly slipped out of them before your pants and underwear. Nøkk didn't seem to mind the wait, rather happy with the show.

A shiver ran across your body as you stood there half-naked. "What about the mask?" You asked as you came to kneel on each side of her head. Her elbows dropped and soon the bottom of the mask was bunched up against the top of your pelvis.

"Oooooooh." Her lips pressed against your clit and she kissed it. Then you felt the soft drag of them as she opened met mouth only for her tongue to drag across your entire slit.

"You know when Tina told me that your gaze lingered on me more than anyone else I didn't believe her." Your eyes snapped open.

"Tina, that traitor."

"Did I say Tina? Whoops. I guess you taste that good." She smiled against your cunt before she resumed her action of tasting the slick that had started to run down the inside of your thighs.

"Oh, when we get back she's so dead." Your voice tried to sound intimidating but as she so kindly licked at your clit you couldn't help the shiver that ran down your body. Your hands went to grab at her head but where should have been you make contact with the fabric of her mask. "Careful." She warned and there was a serious warning undertone to it. She didn't want you to take it off, not yet.

The grip loosened and she went back at it, her hands on your ass as you slowly rolled your hips against your face. "When we get back to base, I have a blindfold. I'll take it off then." The implication was clear. "If you don't mind of course."

"Please please please keep eating me out oh my god Nøkk." The small interruptions of her speaking had started to get to you as your core started to swell with a raging storm.

The flat of her hand slipped slightly under your shirt while her other one grabbed at your ass, guiding the speed of your movements.

"Feels so fucking good." She gave your ass a light slap and you were practically riding her face at that point. Your hands left her mask in preference for the cement floor where your nails scraped against the white dust. Moans left your lips, incomprehensible while you came. The storm was released inside of you as pleasure struck through your body. Legs shivering against her, Nøkk continued to work you through your high until a choked sound came from your voice.

Leaning forward on the pavement you gasped out while Nøkk slipped from under you. The gentle touch of her hands helped you up to your feet while she passed you your pants. Breath still heaving you followed the silent instructions and redressed yourself. When you looked up she had that smug smile on her face before it was soon hidden once again by the fabric that flowed back into place. "I think I'd like that Nøkk. Your room blindfolded. But first dinner perhaps?"

"You have somewhere in mind?" In all reality, Nøkk wasn't one for fancy restaurants.

"Yeah, I know a place that makes a solid burger." While you couldn't see her smile anymore, her mask in the way as you looked up at her, lacing up your boots, you could tell she had a smile on her face.

"Sounds good."

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

[uvobreakmylegs]

Prey

got a request for a monster!Uvo as well as a request for an Uvo fic where he chases the reader. hope it’s cool that I combined the two of them

@ramwrites​ and I are in agreement that werewolf is the best type of monster for Uvogin

werewolf!Uvogin

Warnings: death, blood, gore, body horror, little bit of smut, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, attempted suicide, implied kidnapping, reader does not have a good time

Thin rays of sun that were able to slip past the branches of the trees hit Uvo's back as he went about his work, placing another upright log on the now considerably worn down tree stump and bringing his axe down upon it, slicing the wood in two and tossing the pieces into the pile to his right before he grabbed another unchopped piece from the pile to the left. Based off of the sun's position in the sky, it was only a bit after midday. Uvogin had been going at this for a while now, his sweat staining the white tank he wore.

Though the sweating wasn't because the work was in any way debilitating. Any other day of the month Uvogin would've been able to chop the same amount and not even break a sweat.

No, today was different because of what was happening tonight: a full moon.

Even though the night was still a long ways off, Uvo could already feel the very beginnings of his transformation shuddering through him. Faint, but still noticable. Unfortunately, with the ever present fact that nightfall wouldn't come for hours yet, there was little he could to other than to keep himself busy and distract himself lest the anticipation kill him. So he continued to chopping the logs, even though the amount he had cut already was bordering on excessive.

In the midst of his distraction, his ears perked up when he heard the faint rumblings of a car engine. His senses of smell and hearing were always pretty good even when it wasn't close to a full moon, but those senses were ten times as sharp now, and he could clearly hear as the car came in closer and closer.

Whoever they were, they wouldn't be the first people to have approached him today. Already he'd been asked two different times for directions to the nearby campgrounds, the first time by an elderly couple who were likely well into retirement, and the second by a group of individuals who had also gotten lost. The woman from that group who went up to him told him more information than he'd needed to know, informing him of how theirs was a company sanctioned team-building retreat. She had a piece of gum in her mouth and smacked it loudly as she talked, and because of his sensitive hearing, the sound of it became distressing to the point that Uvo had to keep himself from clawing his ears off.

Everyone in that group deserved to die because of that woman alone.

Uvogin didn't stop what he was doing even when he heard the car drive past and then suddenly brake, just continuing as he was while he heard the sounds of a car door opening and someone stepping out. Words were being spoken; what was being said exactly he couldn't say, but based off of previous experience it was easy enough to guess.

The car door slammed shut and the engine rumbled again as the car began to drive further down the dirt road. It'd be back in a little bit – over that way was a dead end. But Uvogin quickly switched his focus to the footsteps he heard walking through the unmarked pathway and headed towards him.

“Excuse me?”

He heard your voice call out to him, and Uvo finally turned to face you. Upon making eye contact with him, you smiled and held up a map as you called out again “sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help out with some directions? We're looking for the Visca lake campgrounds, but I think we've been going around in circles.”

You didn't come any closer when you said that, though it seemed to be more out of a desire to not intrude on his space as opposed to being nervous about the axe he was holding. There was a hopeful look in your eye, though you also seemed ready to apologize for bugging him if he instead told you to fuck off.

Already he knew he liked you much better than the bitch from earlier.

“Sure,” he replied.

Uvo set the axe down and walked towards you, his hand outstretched so you could hand him your map. You smiled and handed him the map without any hesitation, coming up beside him as he unfolded it and scanned the paper so he could give you an idea of what direction you needed to go. The height difference between the two of you meant that he needed to lean down a bit as he pointed out to you the appropriate road that would get you to your destination.

“The road to the campgrounds is here,” he told you.

Despite the way he had tried to accommodate the height difference, you still needed to stand on your toes to see where he was pointing. Your arm came up briefly before you swiftly pulled it back. Like you'd been tempted to place your hand on his forearm to better balance yourself but stopped yourself since the two of you were complete strangers. Though Uvo wouldn't have minded too much if you had done so. Taking advantage of the way you were right next to him, he inhaled, memorizing your scent for later.

Uvo then moved his finger towards the left as he continued “we're around this area, so you'll want to drive back the way you came and take the first right you see. Then you'll want to take another right to get onto the campground road. As long as you don't fuck up turning, you should get to the lake in about ten minutes. Maybe less.”

“Ah, okay!” you responded, taking back your map as you looked over the route he'd pointed out to you. As you were desperate to make sure you got his directions right so you wouldn't need to be in the embarrassing situation of messing up his instructions and needing to go back to him for further clarification, you didn't notice the way he was looking you over or how he inhaled more of your scent.

Your hair smelled of something flowery, some kind of hair product you must have used that morning before you drove out here. Your clothing also had a rather soapy smell, though it wasn't as noticeable as the product in your hair. Beneath all of that, he was able to take in your natural scent that was free of any products or chemicals, as well as... Perfume? An odd choice for a camping trip, he thought. Then another smell hit him, one that surrounded you but you were definitely not the source of.

Oh.

It was the unmistakable scent of another man.

The perfume made more sense now. You'd said 'we' earlier as well, so chances were you'd come here with a boyfriend for a romantic weekend getaway and his smell has just gotten all over you after spending several hours cooped up in a car with him.

Not terribly displeasing. A boyfriend being in the picture might make things a bit more interesting.

“Okay, I think I've got it,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “sorry if I took up too much of your time.”

“No problem,” he answered, “I get a lotta people asking for directions, so I'm used to it.”

“Really? That sounds like it gets annoying. Why don't they put up signs or something?” you asked.

“They do,” Uvo said, “but they usually get taken down by vandals.”

More like self-righteous teenagers who'd found out the truth about him and couldn't stand the fact that the elders of the nearby town allowed Uvogin to do as he pleased and thought they could thwart his killing sprees by taking down the signs leading to the lake, like they could save any innocent vacationers if they weren't able to find the campgrounds. Those kids had yet to learn that if they managed to deprive Uvo of his prey, he'd be forced to go to their own town and hunt there, maybe snatch up one of them or their families. The older folk in charge of the town understood that, and they'd decided that it was better to let the occasional out of town stranger be his prey than risk him coming in and picking off whatever stragglers he could find in their community.

People vacationing in the wilderness died all the time, after all.

“Vandals?” you asked. There was the slightest bit of concern in your voice, and when your eyes went slightly wide as you looked at him, he couldn't help but muse at how cute you looked like that.

“Just dumb kids,” he explained, “there's a small town a little ways back and I reckon they don't have much to do around there.”

“Ah, I see. Do you think we'll need to worry about them bothering us?”

“Nah, they wouldn't do anything,” Uvo said, “besides, they know that I'm out here today, and they know better than to bug me.”

You laughed a bit at that, any deeper meaning to his words going over your head.

“I can't blame them. If I was one of them I'd be too scared to do anything to get on your bad side.”

Uvogin just smiled.

A voice then called at the top of the path, and you both looked to see a dark-haired man around your age standing there. He called out what Uvo assumed was your name, and you waved to him, calling out a short “coming!” before you turned back to Uvogin.

“Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Once again, not a problem. Hope you two have a good time.”

You smiled and nodded at him, and then began to walk back over to your boyfriend. But before you had the chance to bid him goodbye, Uvogin spoke again.

“You wanna know something that's not in any visitor's guides?” he asked.

“Huh?”

He grinned at your slightly confused expression as he explained “if you go down to the southern side of the lake, there are these really beautiful cliffs in the forest. A lot of clearings that show a pretty good view of the sky, too. And it's a full moon tonight; if you want to make some memories, you should check it out when it gets dark.”

Clearly intrigued, you turned back to face him, asking “really? Why isn't that part advertised?”

“The locals want to keep parts of the lake to themselves,” he said, “but I think it's something that you might appreciate.”

“You sure you won't get in trouble for telling me?”

“Not if you don't say anything,” said Uvo, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. Behind you, your boyfriend was starting to look a bit suspicious, and his lips soon formed a frown. You weren't paying him any mind at the moment.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Uvogin.”

You held out your hand as you introduced yourself, and he humored you by giving you a handshake.

“Thank you so much for everything,” you said, “maybe we'll see you again while we're here.”

“Maybe.”

With that, you finally turned and made your way to your awaiting boyfriend, who gave Uvo one last narrowed glance before he turned his attention to you as you eagerly pulled your map back out and began to tell him the directions that had been given to you. Your boyfriend only gave one more glance towards Uvogin before focusing his full attention on you, looking over the map with you before the two of you made your way back to the car. He seemed rather boring, Uvo thought to himself. Yet before you made it back in, you stepped up and kissed your boyfriend on the cheek. Uvo saw the way your boyfriend stiffened and the blush that reached his ears as he sat down in the driver's seat to escape your random but sweet action. You laughed as you entered through the passenger's side, and Uvo kept an eye on the two of you until he saw your small, light blue car pull away and drive down the road.

When the two of you were gone, Uvo went back to chopping wood, picking the axe back up and slicing the log into two even pieces. He didn't expect that anyone else would come blundering into the forest before evening, but if they did, he wouldn't pay them much mind. If he killed every single person who came in to enjoy the lake he would quickly lose that particular food source and then need to find another area to hunt.

No, the only ones that were on the table tonight were the company group and you and your boyfriend – he wouldn't bother hunting down that elderly couple as it wouldn't be interesting in the slightest to go after them. The larger group had a good number of people in it, so there would be no need to seek out anyone else. Honestly he shouldn't even bother with the two of you, but Uvo thought of you again, thinking over every action you had taken, from the way you had approached him to how you held out your hand when you introduced yourself.

The little bit of affection you had offered to your boyfriend also came to mind but he brushed that thought away. It was unimportant, he told himself.

No, he shouldn't bother with the two of you, but he wanted to see how your naive little expression might change when you saw him next, after the moonlight had transformed him, and hear how you might scream and cry as he hunted you down.

He grinned at the thought, and when his axe came down again, it sliced the log and the stump beneath it clean through.

The true beginnings of his change had started hours ago when the sun sank past the horizon and the moon slowly rose in the night sky. Just little things, like the way his teeth began to shift in his mouth, or how the black tips of his claws were starting to show beneath his fingernails, slowly pushing up beneath the nails and trying to force themselves out so he could have an easier time tearing apart whatever unfortunate victim happened to be closest to him.

His skin was starting to shift a bit in places as well as it began to detach from the muscle beneath, and he was hit with an overwhelming urge to run outside and allow his transformation to complete so he could go wild as he always did on a full moon night.

But he waited, forcing himself to focus on the fire that was burning before him, to wait until it had gone out completely before he stepped foot out of his cabin.

It had turned into something of a ritual for him; when he had started it he could no longer remember. It was purely ceremonial, and at the heart of it he knew that it did nothing to add to his hunt, but after being alone in the woods for so long he supposed he was entitled to a bit of superstition. And at this point, it would have felt wrong to do it any other way. When the fire went out, the moon would be at the highest point in the sky, and when he left the dark cabin and bared himself to the moonlight, his werewolf form would tear through and he would track down the victims he had met earlier in the day, the ones whose scents he had remembered after he'd chosen them for his prey. Didn't matter much in what order he got them, just whatever scent he came across first.

Although maybe tonight it mattered a little bit. If he could manage it, Uvogin wanted you to be the last one to die tonight. After the group from the company retreat and your bland looking boyfriend, he'd hoped he could then have you for last. Something about that made him feel like that would be the only appropriate ending to the night.

But that all depended if he could manage to remember that after he'd transformed.

The light of the fire was growing more dim, and he was having a harder time sitting still, his entire body itching to burst through the cabin door and let the moonlight take him.

Not yet, he told himself.

But soon.

Those black claws were showing a bit more now, and at least two of his fingernails had popped off, blood coating his fingertips as his hands clenched onto the skin of his legs. That same skin shifted once more as he did so, and after a few moments he felt something trickling down his thigh, and when he glanced down he could see in the faint glimmer of firelight the hole in his skin that he'd torn open, and the dark fur beneath the human flesh that was still covered and the blood dripping down his leg.

Not yet not yet not yet

A few more agonizing minutes later that had seemed endless in his mind, and finally the fire he'd begun earlier was reduced to a smoulder, the flames dying out and the wood glowing red as the fire reached the end of its life.

Now

No sooner had he thought that Uvogin had thrown open the cabin door and ran out into the woods that surrounded him, bare as he gazed up at the full moon as he allowed himself the moment that he'd been holding off on.

There were multiple changes simultaneously and Uvogin was barely able to comprehend all of what was happening to him because of it. There was always a pain that accompanied his transformation, and while it was a pain that he was used to at this point, it was pain nonetheless.

At the sight of the moon his green eyes turned yellow and his pupils narrowed into slits, while the bones in his body began to shift and grow. It started with his spine, extending and pushing out through his skin and almost causing a ripple effect through his whole body. His bones were snapping and stretching beneath his skin, growing as his muscles were expanding and making him into even more of a giant than he already was. Claws on his hands and feet tore through the flesh that surrounded them as those parts of him extended, the skin ripping open and allowing more of the fur that was hidden underneath to show through.

When he felt the flesh around his shoulders stretch out in an attempt to accommodate the transformation he sped up the process by reaching up and tearing it away with his own fingers, the black claws easily ripping in and pulling the skin away like a latex glove. Soon the skin that had been on his arms sat around him in pieces on the grass and he began the same process with his chest and legs, tearing away his flesh in messy strips and allowing the fur that had formed on his body to be exposed, matted with blood and looking almost black in the light of the moon.

His skull went through the same process as the rest of his body, and he felt his face crack into several different pieces before the bones began to remold themselves and pushed outward, taking the shape of a wolf's muzzle while his teeth extended and shifted to fit properly in his newly formed mouth. When his ears began twisting and pushing upwards into sharp points was when he tore at the skin on his face, pulling it off as he had done with the rest and throwing it to the forest floor.

When the last of his human flesh had been removed, his transformation was complete. The man who had stepped out of that cabin was gone and replaced with a large, bipedal wolf whose yellow eyes dilated as he looked up once more to the moon. Lifting his head up, he arched his back as he let out a howl loud enough that echoed through the woods and across the surface of the lake. Those that heard it in the nearby town quietly whispered their prayers to whichever gods they worshiped while those who were visiting the lake's campsite merely marveled at the sound.

If Uvo was in a different mindset he might have thought of you in that moment, and what you might be thinking when you heard him. If you had any clue of the danger you were in.

But in this moment, there was no thought of you or even saving you for last as he had tried to so hard to ingrain into himself. There was no thought of doing this in any order or trying to end the night correctly as he had mused about earlier.

The only thing going through Uvogin's mind was the need to kill.

As luck would have it, he'd managed to kill the ones from that company first.

There had been more of them. More that were wandering around their campsite, more that were talking amongst themselves, and in general just making more noise that, combined with their scents from earlier, allowed him to find them first.

There were actually more of them in that group than he'd anticipated, and as he killed off the last woman in the group, gum falling from her mouth as he twisted her head completely around. Uvo then looked around at the carnage he'd left in his wake. It was hard to tell with the way they were all in pieces now, but the number of people group had easily been in the double digits. That would probably cause a bit of trouble, as it would be hard to try and cover this up. This would easily make the news. Annoying, as Uvo would need to make sure to lay low for a bit, and it could possibly lower the amount of potential victims in the area when the next full moon came.

But it had still been worth it.

Uvogin felt more like himself again now that the murderous urges had been sated. Able to think a bit more clearly, more rationally. And he was able to remember you and what he'd hoped for early on. He could imagine it: your scared expression as you watched him kill your boyfriend before he slaughtered you like the rest, your screams cutting short as he bit into the skin of your neck and tore out your throat.

Now that his hunger was taken care of, he left the campsite of the now-dead group. Right now all he wanted was to find you and your boyfriend.

Remembering what he had told you of the southern side of the lake, he took a gamble as he headed off in that direction, making his way through the woods at speeds much faster than a regular human would be capable of. He stopped when he felt the wind blowing again, and lifted his nose in the air, trying to see if he catch anything.

….. There

It was faint. Very faint, but he managed to catch a familiar human scent.

He turned and headed off in your direction. It was too far away to get your exact location, but it was enough that he could get at least an idea of where you were.

Continuing towards the south side of the lake, he stayed close to the shoreline until he found your little blue car from earlier parked close to the lake, a tent set up not too far off from it. Your scent became a bit more clear as he came closer, and yet when stopped to scan the area, his eyes looking for the slightest bit of movement and his ears straining to hear any bit of noise, he couldn't find you.

A bit annoying, but based off of the way the two of you had left things, you should still be in the area. It was just a matter of hunting you down.

Uvo stalked about the campsite, just in case he missed something while also puncturing two of the tires on your car and cutting off that potential escape route. Satisfied that neither of you were on the site or next to the water, he walked back into the woods, following after the little bits of that fragrance he'd latched onto.

As he walked, he thought to himself with some amusement that you'd actually taken up his suggestion. Uvogin had found that most people didn't bother, either because they were too dedicated to the plans they'd made before arriving or because they didn't trust that the landscape was as beautiful as he'd made it out to be. In fairness, it mostly all looked the same to him, but there had just been something about that particular bit of campground that made him enjoy hunting there more. So it was even more perfect that the two of you had ended up there. Most likely you were just doing what you felt like and didn't feel like adhering to any particular schedule.

His ears perked up as he heard a low voice in the distance. Not yours. Probably your boyfriend, then. Focusing himself so he could move silently, Uvogin weaved through the trees, his eyes searching for you while he listened for more noise from either of you.

When he heard your voice next, he had definitely gotten closer. Your voice had sounded odd, though. Almost breathless.

He found the two of you in a larger clearing that stood beneath one of the cliffs he had spoken of. You were laying with your back on the grass, dressed in a swimsuit with only a shirt over it. Your boyfriend was in a similar state with the moonlight falling onto his bare back, and it looked like both of you were a bit wet, some drops of water still on your skin and hair still damp. So the two of you had gone swimming before you wandered over to this area to mess around.

You said something to him before the two of you shared a kiss, and you moaned into it when he slipped his hand under your shirt to grab at your chest.

It certainly wasn't the first time Uvo had come across a pair of lovers in the woods. Such encounters usually ended with one or both betraying the other, as several times in the past one would push the other into Uvo's path in an attempt to save themselves after having a passionate make-out session only moments before.

Uvogin stepped out from the treeline and waited for one of you to notice him. You let out another moan, and to him it sounded like it was slightly exaggerated. Was your boyfriend not that good? Not too surprising, based off of Uvo's impression of him.

If Uvo had been the man on top of you, he was certain he could do much better.

….. Where did that come from?

Uvo didn't get much time to wonder about that as he heard you let out a sharp gasp, and when his eyes refocused on you, he saw that you were looking right at him. Your eyes were wide and your skin paled as you stiffened, your hands grasping at your boyfriend's arms.

“What's wrong?” your boyfriend asked when he noticed your reaction.

Keeping your eyes on Uvogin, you answered him in a small whisper “there's something over there.”

Your boyfriend turned his head to where you were looking, and he went stiff as well when he saw Uvogin's werewolf form.

It was quiet in that clearing, free of any noises from any woodland animals or even the insects, as anything that was in that immediate area sensed the danger and were desperate to keep silent. No, the only sound Uvo could hear was your breathing that became more panicked as you struggled to keep it under control and the way your boyfriend tried to shush you while he broke out into a cold sweat. You two were both under the impression to stay still and not make any sudden movements for fear of provoking him.

Then your boyfriend whispered your name.

“When I move,” he breathed out, “I want you to run back to the car and get out of here. Even if I'm not with you, you have to take the car and leave.”

As he spoke, your boyfriend slowly moved his hand over to a pack beside you that Uvo hadn't noticed at first. Still, Uvo grinned. He thought he could take him on?

You tried to protest but your boyfriend wasn't hearing it, only repeating his instructions to you and trying to make you promise that you would do as he said. You didn't want to; that was clear, but when you looked back over to Uvogin's form outside the treeline, you shuddered once more and agreed to leave with a short nod.

Uvogin waited for the boyfriend to make his move. He looked just as terrified as you were, but he was clearly trying to be brave for your sake, and his resolve seemed to steel when he got a hold of whatever he had been searching for in the pack.

“Now!”

Your boyfriend yelled as he shot up and charged at Uvo. For the first time since seeing him, Uvogin felt mildly impressed with your boyfriend; he'd been genuine about wanting to save you over himself. Not like he wouldn't still die for it as he was still incredibly weak, but there was something to be said about the willingness he had to face down a beast like Uvo for your sake.

You must be something special to make a man go that far for you.

The thing your boyfriend had pulled out turned out to be a can of bear spray as well as a medium-sized hunting knife. Uvo managed to doge the stream that had been aimed at him easily on account of how badly the hand that held it had been shaking. The boyfriend ran back a bit, unwilling to get too close to Uvogin even with the knife. He tried to aim it again, but Uvo used his claws to slice at him, slashing upwards as he aimed for his throat.

Somehow, he missed the boyfriend's throat and only managed to hit the side of his face, opening up his cheek and taking off his ear. The boyfriend cried out at that, one hand going up to his bleeding cheek while still trying to incapacitate Uvo with the bear spray. But with the way he stumbled about, it was almost too easy for Uvogin to grab him by his face and hurl him into the trunk of a nearby tree. He hit headfirst, and there was an audible cracking sound that came from the impact. Uvogin didn't even bother to watch the way his body hit the ground, experience telling him that he was definitely dead.

Uvogin was much more interested in you.

You were still in the clearing. At first you had done as your boyfriend had told you and bolted the second he yelled, running back to your campsite. But you stopped and turned back when you heard him cry out when Uvo had slashed at him. You wanted to help him but you also knew there was nothing you could do, and so you were left standing in the clearing, your whole body shaking as you struggled with the decision to stay or leave your boyfriend behind.

It was cute how loyal you were to him.

And loyalty certainly wasn't a bad quality.

When you saw your boyfriend die you froze, tears streaming down your face as you looked between the now dead man and the thing that had murdered him. You were clearly in a panic, your legs trembling as your brain struggled to figure out what to do, where to go from here. Certainly you had to be aware that you'd lost any chance of getting away like you'd been told to do, right?

Apparently not, as when Uvogin stepped forward you bolted, running back towards the camp. Yet Uvo found a sense of relief with that, that you wouldn't just sit there and let him kill you and end it so early.

For whatever reason, that last thought displeased him.

But he brushed that away as he chased after you only moments later, not bothering to be quiet with his movements and instead being as loud as possible, breaking apart any low-hanging branches in his wake as he howled into the night air once again.

You had only made it a little ways past the car when he emerged from the forest and lunged towards you. It seemed like you were trying to get away on foot given the damage to the car. Already there was a scent of blood in your wake, as the soles of your feet had already been cut up on the sharp debris of the forest floor.

You turned towards him just in time to see him raising his clawed hand over his head before he sliced it downwards. Through what must have been some bit of luck, you stumbled backwards at that moment and all he managed to do was give you a flesh wound.

You hit the surface of the gravel road hard, crying out in pain at the force of your fall as well as the cuts that were on your arm, your hand immediately grasping at your wound as you desperately tried to use your legs to get yourself off of the ground.

Then he was on top of you.

He opened his jaws wide; you saw as he did so, and attempted to crawl out from under him.

He snapped his jaws shut on your throat.

And you went stiff.

It was quiet for a few moments.

And then a small rush of air escaped from your mouth as you let out a breath you had been holding.

Almost.

He had almost killed you in that moment.

The pointed tips of his teeth were pressing lightly into your skin, not quite hard enough to make you bleed, but that would change if you shifted your neck just slightly.

Why had he stopped?

He stayed there, hunched over you, his arms caging you in while his maw was around your throat. He felt the pulse in your neck beating wildly, almost causing vibrations against his teeth. You had stopped struggling, your legs still while you continued to clutch at your wounded arm, the only noises coming from you now being your uneven breathing.

What was he doing?

His yellow eye glanced over to your face, and he found that you weren't even looking at him. You were gazing in the direction of the night sky, where the light of the moon shown down on you like a spotlight, but it didn't even seem like you were even looking at that. Your eyes were wide as you breathed hard, and Uvo had to wonder if you were currently seeing your life flash before your eyes. That perhaps your mind had accepted that this was the end of your life and was remembering as much as you could before Uvogin would sink in his teeth and sever those major arteries in your neck.

Were you satisfied with all that you had accomplished up to this point, or were you disappointed and felt that you should have done more?

Moments passed like that, his hulking form engulfing yours with no movement from either of you. He took in a deep breath, and he once again caught some of the flowery smell of your shampoo, though it had largely faded by now, and you smelled much more like the woods after the hours you had spent there. More like pine and tree leaves, and the fresh water of the lake, and....

Uvogin let out a short grunt that made you whimper and you clenched your eyes shut as you believed this to be the end. You had no clue that Uvo could smell your arousal coming from between your legs. It had come from the way you'd been fooling around with your boyfriend earlier – there was no way you could have been turned on by this.

Uvo thought again of what he had seen when he stumbled upon the two of you, and that odd thought that had interjected at one point. You had been on his mind almost all day, and he thought it was because he wanted to kill you. And now you were beneath him and the moment couldn't have been more right, and yet now that was the last thing he wanted to do.

It hit him then. The different urge he'd had about you since he had seen you earlier in the day, since he had seen the way you treated your boyfriend; the way you had kissed that man had stuck out in his mind. Hardly any different than any other couple he had seen who were too big on PDA, yet combined with the way you had first come up to him, had smiled and thanked him, and introduced yourself so willingly while also asking for his name had made all of the difference in the world.

His days in the woods were lonely. It was something Uvo was well aware of but had thought he could handle, and he had done so for several years now without issue. But now that he knew you, with your actions and your touch and even the sweet scent of your arousal that he wished more and more that he had been the cause of, another second of being alone sounded more like torture.

Still, the biggest reason he had stayed on his own for so long was that he had accepted that there would be few in this world who would be alright with spending the rest of their lives with a man-eating monster. And any that he may have wanted to keep alive despite that probably wouldn't have been worth the trouble. Keeping someone else with him would also mean he would need to put in the effort to keep them alive, and if he had them unwillingly he'd need to make sure they wouldn't be able to get away, either by restraining them or locking them up.

He watched you, watched the way your face stayed scrunched up as you waited for him to finish it. He wanted you, but were you worth the trouble?

When Uvogin pulled off of your neck and sat back up, you meekly opened your eyes in confusion and trying to anticipate what horrible thing he would do to you next. You yelped when he grabbed you by the back of your shirt as he stood, pulling you up to your feet and setting you in front of him. With one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip, he turned you so you were facing away from him, making sure you were steady on your feet.

He leaned down so his maw was right next to your ear, and in a voice that sounded more animal than human, he growled out a single word:

“Run.”

With that he pushed you forward. You stumbled a bit, your brain still processing what he had said as you barely took a few steps away from him. Then, like a lightning bolt had hit you, you finally seemed to understand as you snapped back and made a beeline for the woods. Your bare feet were loud on the cluttered forest floor, and he occasionally heard little gasps and soft whimpers of pain when you cut your foot open further on a rock or a sharp branch.

Uvo waited, wanting to give you a good head start before he began to chase after you. It would be easy to track you, especially with how much you were bleeding now, but he shuddered with barely contained excitement, eager to chase you down but knowing that he needed to give you a decent head start or else it would be over too quickly.

If you proved yourself worthy of keeping alive, then he'd take you back to his cabin.

And he really hoped you wouldn't let him down.

…. But then something felt wrong.

Uvogin's eyes narrowed as he sensed that you were still within the immediate area and not moving away from him as he had expected. The direction you had gone in was the same one the both of you had come from; the patch of woods and the clearing where he'd found you in the pathway. There wasn't anything there that you could have fallen over or gotten stuck on, so why....

A new thought occurred to him, and Uvo growled lowly to himself as he hoped he wouldn't see what he felt he might when he found you next.

You were back in that clearing, sitting next to your boyfriend's fallen body. Your body was facing the direction Uvo had arrived from, both of your hands in front of you as looked down at your now former lover. There were tears rolling down your cheeks as you sat there.

A wave of disgust hit Uvogin as he found he was correct and was thoroughly disappointed with your actions. He'd given you a chance to get away and you'd wasted it by sitting around crying. Clearly he had given you too much credit.

You heard him as he began to walk towards you, and he noted the way your hands slipped beneath your boyfriend's slightly upturned body, your head still downcast.

He stood across from you, letting out a huff that made you flinch. But still, you didn't move from that spot.

As he opened his jaws your head shot up and you lifted your hands from beneath the body.

Just as you did so, something sprayed into his nose, eyes and his open mouth. Something that stung and made him gag. Fuck it burned, and Uvogin let out a howl of pain as he clutched at his face.

The bear spray-!

Something sharp then dug into the flesh beneath his collarbone, and the pain from the bitter spray was accompanied by the sensation of a knife blade stabbing into him.

With another howl as he was now blinded, he swiped a hand in your general direction and heard you yelp as he simultaneously clawed your shoulder and forced you to the ground. With his hearing now being his greatest sense, he managed to pick up the clatter the bear spray can made as the force of his blow made you drop it, and he moved one of his feet to stomp at it, crushing it and making it useless.

Uvo roared again as he swung about wildly, trying to catch you once more, but you managed to avoid his attacks and made your way into the woods again as he heard your labored breathing and footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

He clutched at his face as he tried to make himself calm down, trying to will away the pain and regain his sense of sight and smell.

…. Not bad.

Even with the rage he had felt in the moment, he found himself relieved, almost happy that you had caught him off-guard. You had gone as far as to use your boyfriend's body as a prop, to make him think that you were too broken up about his death so he would lower his guard. Had you been a bit taller, you could have done a decent amount of damage if you'd managed to stab the knife into his throat.

The knife was still in him, he realized, and after regaining a little bit of his sight in his left eye, he easily pulled it out and threw it across the way.

Now you had no weapons, but he was also at a disadvantage as his eyes were still watering and he could no longer smell you as clearly, the harsh chemicals of the spray making him internally wince every time he breathed through his nose. If he wanted to catch you, he would need to rely almost entirely on his hearing to search for you.

The sounds you were making were quite distant now, but he grinned to himself and stayed there a while longer, letting you get further away.

The direction you were going had no civilization, there was only forest for miles, and he was happy to let you get yourself more and more lost if it meant that his hunt would continue.

By the time dawn was nearing, signaled by the sickly pale color the sky had turned to, Uvogin had managed to chase you further into the wilderness, up through the trees and near the edge of a cliff face. Throughout the night there had been times where you had slowed or stopped completely as you tried to regain your strength, taking advantage of your smaller size and slipping into places that he couldn't easily get to. You also had several brief spurts of energy where you had sped up suddenly, more determined than ever to get away from him while you threw various stones and branches back towards him, though you never tried anything else as bold as you had with your trick from earlier as you didn't allow him to get that close again.

But as you stumbled to the edge of the cliff and looked at the steep drop before you, it was clear to him that your fight was gone. He knew it even before you fell to your knees on the sharp rock. The chase had ended, and just in time, as daylight would be here soon, and when that came he would revert back to his human form.

It had been one of the most memorable hunts he'd had in years, and even though your will had been broken in the process, by now he was certain that he wanted to keep you. To have a little partner in his solitary life, someone to keep his bed warm and wait for him to return home in the evenings. The scenario was nice to think about, and he especially liked the idea of you cuddling up to him during the colder months of the year, trying to keep yourself warm with his body heat to fight the chilly air that would sneak inside. Maybe eventually he'd get you to give him sweet tokens of affection like you'd given to your boyfriend, perhaps a kiss on the cheek before he went out to hunt.

And maybe every once in a while, if you were still insistent on putting up a fight, Uvo might let you out during a full moon and make you think you had a chance to escape, just so he could hunt you down and drag you back to his little home in the woods.

The thought of it gave him chills, and he wondered how long he would need to wait before he could let you out.

You were lightly swaying in place as you looked to the ground below while Uvo was consumed in the thoughts he had about you. He assumed that you were just waiting for him to finish it – your willpower was dried up, and there was no way you would try to run around him or do anything as stupid as try to climb down the cliff face.

He had no clue where your thoughts had taken you in that moment.

Realization shot through him when he saw your shoulders sag and your body began to fall forward over the edge.

Uvo rushed forward and grabbed you by your shoulder before you fell off and he threw you back, a good distance further and far rougher than he had been intending, as you wailed weakly when you hit the ground.

If you were willing to kill yourself to escape him, he'd need to wait some time before letting you run about the woods again.

By now, you were covered in dirt and blood and whatever else had stuck to you from the forest while you had run from him. Your skin was covered in cuts that he and the forest had given you and it would likely be some time before you would be able to properly walk again based off of the state of your feet. When he approached you once more, you clenched your eyes shut again. By now you were past the point of tears and just waited for him to finish you off.

You jolted at the feeling of his fur brushing against your skin when straddled you once more, but just as before, the killing blow you were expecting never came. You opened one eye, and just as you did so, the first rays of the sun shone over the landscape beyond and hit Uvogin.

You watched in silent horror as the fur that covered him caught on fire and began to burn. He was briefly consumed by the flames before they vanished into puffs of smoke. His bones were snapping again, breaking into pieces and retracting back into their normal size while his muscles and skin rippled and shrunk back down, tightening around his fingers as the claws also retracted and vanished beneath the skin. As his wolf face broke apart and reformed, there was a look of shock in your eyes as you saw the beast on top of you become more and more human. And that shock soon turned into a realization when you found that you recognized the man who was on top of you.

His transformation back to his human form was over in a matter of seconds, and when it was over and his green eyes looked back down at you, you stuttered as you tried to find your voice.

“U-Uvogin?” you asked weakly.

He grinned, pleased that you had remembered his name.

Without another word, Uvo leaned down over you so he could begin the process of properly claiming you as his.

[doomfox]

How long until Eclipse stops referring to Black Doom as his father?

Eclipse had had the best day. The BEST day!

They’d had to get up early and that sucked. Eclipse loved the new little sleeping area Wade had built for him in the corner of the garage. But that was okay because they’d had a big breakfast, and Eclipse had eaten eight sausages! So that was good. Then they’d gone over to Tom and Maddie’s house where they’d met Sonic and his dad, and their big slobbery dog, and took the trails up into the forests, doing something called ‘hiking’. Then they’d found a lake and gone swimming (unfortunately there were no ducks there, but Eclipse thought maybe next time there might be), and played all day until returning home for the BIGGEST barbeque the adults could put together (Maddie had taken charge of that one, so the garden hadn’t burned to a crisp).

Eclipse, Shadow, Silver and Sonic had played in Sonic’s room for the rest of the evening, with games and comics and toys, before all crashing out on a big mattress that the adults had brought up for them to sleep on. The hedgehogs called it a ‘sleepover’. It was fun. Eclipse had never had a sleepover before. In fact if he’d been told he would be indulging in such things just a few months ago he would have laughed.

But now he had lots of things! First he had a comfy home to live in, and nice food to eat that he didn’t even have to hunt for. And he had his bed and his beloved duck plush, Lilly (Crusher of Skulls). And he had his brother Shadow to play with (and Silver, he supposed, who was pretty nice actually), and he had Sonic to play with as well, and aunt Maddie and uncle Tom and his da-

Eclipse released a small whimper as the image of three burning, red eyes flashed in his brain. His eyes snapped open and he tensed, blinking rapidly as he checked his surroundings.

He was in Sonic’s room, moonlight streaming through the skylight window. Silver made a little rowl beside him but remained asleep, the other two hedgehogs not making a sound. Eclipse felt around and felt relief when he found Lilly, pulling his ducky plush close and hugging into her.

It was okay. He was safe.

Eclipse hugged into his plush and tried to get back to sleep. It didn’t take long for him to realise he wouldn’t. The picture of those evil red eyes wouldn’t leave his mind, the same eyes he’d only even seen back on the Black Comet when his f... when Black Doom summoned him. And it was rarely a good thing to be summoned by the dark overlord.

Soon enough Eclipse decided he couldn’t sleep, and carefully left the makeshift bed he shared with the hedgehogs. Quietly, the Darkling made his way across the bedroom and up through the skylight, stealthily climbing onto the sloping roof of the Wachowski household. He lay on his back and looked up to the stars, where he had come from. Where he had been born.

Eclipse shuddered at the thought of those eyes. Somewhere up above, somewhere out there... was Him.

“Hey dude! What ya doin’?”

Eclipse jumped, his eyes snapping to find a familiar spiky blue shape illuminated softly in the moonlight. Somehow, Sonic had snuck up on him without him noticing. Eclipse looked away, back to the stars. “Nothing...”

“Oh.” Sonic, not taking a hint, slid onto the roof and lay down beside the Darkling, settling in with hands behind head. “I like coming up here sometimes too,” the blue hedgehog said, green eyes looking up to the same stars above, “think about home and stuff...”

Eclipse grunted. He was annoyed. Couldn’t the hedgehog see he wanted to just be alone right now?

“I mean don’t get me wrong! I love Green Hills and living on Earth, but I do have some good memories of my home planet...” a content look crossed the hedgehog’s face, tainted by a pang of longing which vanished after a couple of moments and going unnoticed by Eclipse. Sonic turned and looked to the Darkling. “Do you ever miss your home?”

Eclipse stared right ahead, focusing on the myriad of stars above. “No.”

“Oh,” Sonic said again, frowning. “What about your father? That Black Death guy? You ever miss him-“

“No!!!!” Eclipse all but snarled, rounding on Sonic with teeth bared. The blue hedgehog, who he had been playing with all day and evening, recoiled with wide green eyes. Eclipse went still, before ducking his head and putting his teeth away. “He was really mean...” the little alien said, quieter this time, looking back to the sky above, “he hurt me a lot. He never cared about me, he just wanted to make me into a weapon...” Eclipse sighed and huddled up, curling into himself as he thought. “Before I came here I didn’t know what having a family was supposed to be like... my fath-“ Eclipse faltered on the word, baring his teeth slightly again. “Black Doom,” he pointedly corrected himself, “is just a big horrible jerk! He hurt me, he used me, and then he threw me away when I failed him! Wade would... my dad would never do that!” Eclipse realised he was breathing heavier, getting worked up now, and he made himself take a few deep breaths and count to ten. “My dad would never do that.”

Sonic appeared to consider for a moment, and then grinned. “Yeah, our dads are pretty cool huh?”

Eclipse remained silent for a moment, one yellow fang chewing at his lip. “Yeah...” he said quietly, “I just get scared sometimes...”

A blue ear twitched. Sonic blinked. “What about?”

Eclipse stared at the stars, expression like stone. “That.. HE’ll come back one day... and try to take everything from me...”

Sonic scoffed. “You think any of us are gonna let that happen? You got team Triple Threat backing you up!”

Eclipse cocked his head as he looked back to the blue hedgehog. “What’s that?”

“Our superhero team! Me, Shadow, and Silver! We haven’t gone fighting crime or anything but one day we will!” The blue hedgehog’s eyes went wide with sudden realisation. “OMG, you should join too! Then we’ll kick all kindsa butt together!!!”

Eclipse leaned on an elbow, suddenly interested. “We will??”

“Totally! Our dads say we gotta wait until we’re older and junk but one day!”

“Do I get a cool name??”

“Well duh, we’re superheroes ain’t we??” Sonic’s ears twitched and he glanced back toward the skylight, the quiet sound of a door closing coming from inside. “Ah crap, I think my mom’s up... hey, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, right?? Get Team Trip... Team Quadruple Threat back up and running!!!”

Eclipse grinned. “Okay! That sounds fun!”

With that Sonic turned and climbed back through the open window, Eclipse tailing him. The Darkling paused and took another look at the stars, before stifling a yawn and wanting his duck plush. He went back inside and back to bed, leaving the night behind him. The stars, and the evil eyes that lived out there somewhere, were suddenly a little less frightening now.

[nebulus-frd]

Jealous and protective Rowan and oblivious Aelin in a modern established relationship au

Hi!!!

Thank u so much for the request. I loved your prompt and also love Rowaelin deeply. Hope u enjoy it ♡

If you liked it or not, let me know. Leave a comment, compliments and especially, constructive critics, are always welcomed.

Wanna request your story? Come ⋆⭒ here ⋆⭒, tell me everything. ----------

The beach. The sea. Them.

Synopsis: Modern AU where Rowan and Aelin finally get a deserved vacation. But he isn't enjoying all the attention given to his wife during the first day of it.

Rated: T

Warnings: implied sexual content. If I forgot anything, let me know.

Words: 1700+ (oneshot).

1/1

It was their first time back at the beach after being married.

The life of a military couple was hectic, to say the least, but Rowan and Aelin were rather used to the chaos. This explained why Rowan found himself alone in bed on the first morning of their vacation. Although his wife had always been a late riser, he knew better than anyone how hard it was to break their routine and if he himself hadn’t take medicine to fall asleep, he wouldn’t probably have slept at all.

Not bothering to properly dress, Rowan moved to the kitchen only to find it empty. Did she go grocery shop? But to his surprise not only was the fridge completely packed, but three sandwiches also topple each other on a plate next to a note.

Good morning princess, did you sleep well? Not even a true love kiss was able to break from the evil medicine spell. I’m training on the beach. Join me… Or not, if you feel like sleeping throughout the entirety of our vacation.

Love,

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.

Rowan didn’t even feel the smile that broke through him. God, I love her. Of course, she was training. His wife always called him a workaholic and a military freak, only to always prove herself one. The food was warm enough for her not to have left for too long. And in half an hour Rowan found himself heading to their hotel gym.

Where was Aelin?

He had circulated the gym area twice without success in the mission of joining his wife. Could she be at the beach? It wouldn’t be a surprise. Aelin loves the sea, the sunny weather, and the heat on her skin.

Eight years ago, if someone said to Rowan that there were people who loved those things, he would have straight-out laughed in their faces. He couldn’t anymore. He had learned to appreciate each of these unlike anyone else.

Rowan loved the smile Aelin would have while watching the sea, loved the glow her eyes would reflect under the sun’s light, loved the heat from Aelin’s heart.

His wife had changed each perspective he had in his life.

And while at the beach, once again he asked himself how the hell, he was deserving of the woman he married to?

Aelin was coming out of the sea, dressed in a swimsuit that covered a lot more of what he was used to seeing, looking like the sea god herself had descended in the mortal world to bestow her beauty upon mortals. Thus, Rowan was hindered breathless and as soon as their eyes locked up, he could listen to her thoughts through them.

“Are you delight with the view?”

And the smile that broke in her lips made his knees go weak. She pointed to a small pile of clothes at his right and he could recognize the tennis beside it. As soon as they met Rowan girdled his arm around her hips and kissed her.

“Missed me much?” Aelin asked holding a smirk while still in his arms. Her turquoise eyes nailed on his green-forest ones. The only answer she received was a grunt and a heavy head dropping in her shoulder. “You know you could use words, rather than growling like a beast”, which made Aelin feel the smile coming from her husband, she could picture it too: the perfect set of teeth accompanied by two fangs that were borderline not-human, which had left so many marks on last night's activities, she had almost come to the beach in a diver suit.

“I can’t be bothered. There are a lot of more interesting things to do with my mouth… And my tong…”, Rowan’s impure statement was interrupted by the sound of Aelin’s phone ring, it took a moment for the woman to snap out of the mood her husband had put them in. Poor object, it earned a glare that, if possible, would have transformed it into ashes.

“Oh hi!... Yes, of course, I’m coming… Right, next to the bar… Yes, be there in a few”, she said on the phone friendly. With whom she could have made prior appointments?

“Where are you going?”, Rowan asked confused, involuntarily holding her tighter, Aelin didn’t hide the smile at her husband's unwillingness.

“WE are going to a functional training, apparently the hotel holds them every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday”, she said while putting on a pair of shorts and her tennis, Rowan just nodded in answer.

Once they were in the central area, the closer location between the hotel’s pools and the beach, the equipment could already be seen as well as 10 people roaming around it. Soon enough a man came up to them greeting Aelin, too friendly to Rowan’s likeness, although he could only spot the top of his head.

“Miss Galathnyius, it’s good to have you with us today”, the strange said while avoiding looking at Rowan’s side but he did not miss a beat.

“It’s Mrs.” his accented and low voice seemed to reverberate, earning him an alarmed glance from the instructor, as he had taken from his clothes and name tag.

“Yes, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Galathnyius it’s a pleasure to have both of you here”, the smaller man seemed ready to bolt as he alternated his looks from Rowan’s face tattoo and Aelin’s mirth-filled eyes, she just nodded and that was very well what he did. She knew it wasn’t jealousy from her husband, more like his inability to not correct a mistaken person.

Oh, how wrong she was.

…

Half an hour throughout the class, Rowan was calculating how much trouble would he be if he were to beat three civilians. As the training was open to anyone at the beach, around fifteen more people had come to enjoy the activities. Including a group of four men, who seem too inclined to help Aelin with her training.

Which had made Rowan seeing red since he heard the first suggestion in correcting Aelin’s posture during a core exercise. Whilst his wife seemed completed oblivious as not only agreed to a few suggestions and gave tips of her own. Rowan didn’t mind that both were right.

Nonetheless, at each suggestion made by a stranger, Rowan would casually assert his territory. Moving closer to Aelin, helping her with the weights and holding her during an exercise that required it. Of course, there was the possibility that none of the people participating held any second intentions towards his wife and were only trying to be helpful. He seriously doubted it, even though that was what Aelin seem to think.

Usually, Rowan had never been one to bluntly be jealous and if he found it necessary to discuss attitude with someone, he wouldn’t do it in front of Aelin. But he’d gone apeshit when one of the guys from before made a move to touch her while he went to grab for water. Fuck this. He had been by her side every single moment. What’s with these disrespectful motherfuckers?

The man whose hands extended to help Aelin in moving the piece on her waist only caught a movement in corner of his eyes before a mountain of a man was before him. His eyes caught a glimpse of a wicked tattoo on the man’s face, which had been hidden by the cap he was using.

Rowan’s intimidating demeanor and the fucking gold ring in his and hers left hands were more than enough for assholes to grasp the situation.

She is mine, I’m hers. Fuck off.

Either it was the rings or himself didn’t matter. Apparently, with one look everybody understood his warning.

…

However, nine hours later, he’d been left baffled as his wife complained how, after he glued himself to her side, nobody had talked or interacted with her anymore.

“Well, if you weren’t such a territorial bastard today, we could have made some friends that could introduce us to the town”, she said as they had clearly lost themselves while looking for a Japanese restaurant.

“I beg your pardon?”, Rowan answered seeing red all over again just from remembering the previous event.

“Oh, come on, you thought I did notice? You were just asserting your territory for the heck of it”, she said not bothering with more than an eye roll, still searching the street’s name on their map.

“For the heck of it?”, Rowan was bewildered. Aelin thought he was doing that out of leisure?

“You couldn’t possibly be jealous of those guys from the beach, right?”, she said finally dropping the stupid map that had put them in their current predicament and looking straight into his eyes. Whatever she saw there gave Rowan his favorite smile. “You were….”, she laughed, loud and uncaring. Beautiful. “You are unbelievable”.

Like the viper his wife was, she stealthy approached him in that dark alley. “My cranky husband was jealous of some gym dudes?”, her voice was surrounded by arrogance and seductiveness. Reminding Rowan just who he had married with. The most confident, assertive, dazzling woman he had ever met.

Their eyes were locked on each other as she stalked him like a snake ready to consume her prey. His response to her provocation was nothing more than a grunt. “You know what you should have done?... You could have kissed me right there, ravished me, really… And I would’ve said thank you”.

After many years into their relationship, one would think that Rowan had become numb to Aelin’s advances. However, it was very much the opposite of it. He would be scandalized, shocked… And excited, she burned him with bold words and even bolder actions that made his head spin. His calloused hand didn’t miss one second into holding Aelin’s by her backside and his mouth went to her neck.

“Ditch dinner, Fireheart, I will show you what I would like to have done”, Rowan could feel Aelin’s thundering heartbeat, like his own due to their proximity. It would never lie to him, he affected her just as she did him.

“Oh, why, when you say with such gentleness. I suppose we could make something at home”, she smoothed her hand at Rowan’s ringed finger each word, handing him a bright smile by the end. “I love you”, albeit the sentence was said in a soft tone, it swept bothering feelings between the two, such as sea waves that accompanied their evening.

“To whatever end”, he said holding her left hand and as they walked toward the ocean. Free, unrestricted, and vast. Much like their love.

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

[spicy-dunkaroo]

Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)

♫Now Playing: “Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)” by Spicy Dunkaroo…♪

❀Word Count: 2.5k

❀Rating: PG 13, 18+, Minors Do Not Interact (please)

❀Genre: Mythology AU!, Kelpie! Tamaki Amajiki, a pinch of Angst, very Fluffy, Maybe Smut (Still not sure yet)

❀Summary: Due to your job, you’re forced to visit a beautiful city in Scotland in order to get some reconnaissance on the locals. While on this trip, you grab a drink with a coworker and return home where you begin to notice strange things happen.

❀Warning(s): Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol use (Characters are aged up), and Mentions of Depression

❀Author's Note: Hello everyone!! This will be my first collaboration with the BNHarem server (Of hopefully many more). I hope that if you enjoy this story that you also go ahead and check out the other talented artists/writers that participated in this server collab here. I am beyond grateful to be working with so many amazing writers and artists that have helped me and inspired me to start writing!! I would also like to ask that if there are any warnings I might have missed, please do let me know. The last thing I want to do is have anyone read my story and get triggered because I didn’t properly put the warnings here.

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

☟❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀☟

Birds singing, leaves crunching, and the wind singing in your ears was all you could hear as the tour guide went on with their one-sided conversation of tour around Inverness, Scotland. If it weren’t for your worrisome supervisor, you’d be in the cute little cottage that you rented for the next few weeks, probably playing on your switch or watching Tigtog videos for hours on end. But noooo, they mandated that everyone had to go on this hour-long tour of the city to “get a nice perspective of the city” or whatever the hell they were rambling on about.

Each person was assigned a partner for the tours so they didn’t have to worry about anyone getting abducted or ‘lost’. Knowing better, you visibly rolled your eyes as your partner looked around like a kid in a candy store. Apparently the woman was from the marketing department as well, her name seeming to leave your memory as you squinted in her direction.

“You forgot my name again, didn’t you?”

“Pfft- no- no way!”

“Yea? Then what is it?”

“Uh, erm...It- it starts with a H, I know that!!”

“It’s Hoshi, or if you’d like to continue with formalities, Ms. Tenmei.”

Hanging your head in shame you look away. Getting lost in your thoughts once more, Hoshi taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, no worries! I’m pretty bad with names myself. How’s camera duty going?”

Saying this, the woman grabs the camera from your grasp, turning it back on to see the pictures you had taken thus far. Whistling, Hoshi looks back at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm that was painted across your face.

“I know this tour is the last thing either of us want to do, but the quicker you get all those pictures for the portfolio, the quicker we can get out of here and grab a drink. It’ll be my treat if you can get all of them before the end of the tour.”

Nodding your head, you grab the camera back from her, beginning to focus it on a nice view of the lake from the bridge the two of you were standing on. Before you can snap the shot, the tour-guide’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he begins to speak about a more interesting topic.

“It’s said that this lake has a kelpie spirit living within its waters. Although, that can be said about any lake that’s big enough to swim in.”

As most tourists begin to talk amongst themselves, you grip onto the expensive camera once more, hoping to find that perfect shot you had before the man’s shrilling voice had interrupted your train of thought.

“Mommy, what’s a kelpie?”

As the little boy spoke, you took the chance to snap the shot as a bird flew on the lake's surface, leaving a black blur on the perfect shot!

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

The tour guide you grew to despise butted into the pair’s conversation to answer the boys question.

“That’s a good question kiddo! It’s said that the origins of the Kelpie were originally told as warnings to women and children alike to be alert at all times when not around their loved ones. Despite this, you can ask any local in the area and most could tell you their story of encountering the supposed myth. I suppose we’ll never know till we see one for ourselves. Though, if you’re unlucky enough to encounter such a myth, there’s the chance that you won’t live to tell the tale...”

The boy trembled as he gripped his mother’s dress tighter in his clutch. Your partner begins to scoot closer to you as she whispers into your ear.

“Psst! Hey, what do you think about those ‘kelpie’ hm?”

“It sounds like some sort of folk-lore they tell all the tourists here.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re no fun! I’d like to think they might not be as brutal as this guy says.”

Scoffing, you shake your partner’s hand from your shoulder as you look into the camera’s lens once more to take another picture.

‘I’m sure it’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as a shape-shifting kel-‘

Thinking this, you suddenly feel your body begin to fall forward as the bridge railing suddenly let out from beneath you. Before you realize it, you open your eyes to see the water's surface only a mere foot or two from your own face, the camera hanging by your neck and grazing the lake, your body beginning to be pulled back to its upright position.

Turning around to thank whoever it was that just saved you from having to pay for the company camera, you look to see nobody behind you. Nobody seemed to even be around you as you see Hoshi following behind the group of tourists, leaving you in the dust. You begin to chase after the group as you shake off the entire encounter.

Shuffling your bag off of your shoulder you threw it into the nearby chair, slumping into the couch that was adjacent to the chair. You began to hum to yourself as you felt the effects of the beer contest you had with Hoshi who you now knew was your supervisor. Thinking to yourself you remember losing that contest the two of you set up.

‘It was nice of her to pay for us and to bring me back home even though I lost. I should thank her tomorrow and try to pay her back if I can.’

Suddenly feeling the effects of the liquid courage, you stood up a bit too quickly, reaching your hand out to the couch you were just laying on. Not sure what to do, you reached for your phone to scroll through Tigtog, that was until you began to hear something strange. From what you could tell, it sounded like a voice, though you weren’t sure if it was male or female. Curiosity began to take the lead as you stood upright once more. Looking around, you began to walk around the cottage, seeing if there was anything on that could be making that noise. Eventually you found yourself outside in what looked to be the backyard of your little cottage, swaying side to side as you tried to listen for the voice once more.

“Y/N? Are- are you there?”

Under normal circumstances, after hearing an unknown males voice you’d already be locking the backdoor behind you after racing to that door. Tonight, however, was not the case as you yelled back the best you could of a response.

“yYeaa! Wwwhooo- whoo arre yOU?”

After saying this, you suddenly began to burp, probably due to the alcohol. Despite everything you had experienced thus far, for some reason your fit of burps could not be funner to you at that very moment as the voice spoke once more.

“T-That’s not important r-right now. I just wanted to make sure you made it back home safe.”

The liquid courage that coursed through your veins decided that you wanted to find out more about this stranger and began to walk into the forest. You began to sway as you attempted to find them, calling out to them in hopes of convincing them to stay and hang out.

“OoooOh c’mON now!! Don’t be liiiike that! Wh-wherrrreeee are ya? Le-le-let’s hanggg ouT for a bit! I-I *hic* think there’s cards in the liv-livingg roooom~! We- we can play a gggame of poKER and- and see what’s in the fridge. Man, now I’m hungryyy!”

Despite your lack of sobriety at the moment, you began to hear a few leaves crunch nearby. It appeared that for some reason or another, what you lacked in logic you seemed to gain in your basic senses. This theory proved true as you sniffed the air, you noticed that there was a lake nearby.

‘Since when the hell did I know what a river smelled like?’

Before you can continue on with your train of thought, the stranger responds once more. They seemed a bit panicked as you heard a twig snap, followed by more leaves crunching beneath their feet you suspected.

“D-D-Don’t come any closer! Y-You should go back h-home, you’re not t-thinking rationally.”

Not wanting to take no for an answer, you continue to walk to the source of the sound, hearing what sounded like a cascading river growing louder. Looking through the trees, you noticed a few yards away the river you had just heard. You speak up once more as you begin to walk toward the river.

“I-I don’t want to be alone r-right now… It-it’s stupid I know, I just...I’d just like to talk, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

Your vision began to blur as you rushed to the river's edge. It didn’t matter now if the stranger responded or not, your world began to crash down around you as you looked at the reflection on the water's edge. Sitting on your knees, small whimpers escaped your lips out as you covered your face with your hands. Despite the literal lack of sight, your emotions consumed you as it felt that everything around you was losing the light that once shone in your hopeful eyes.

At this point, you couldn’t hear any signs of life as you gripped harder at your face, only the sound of your quiet cries for help being all that echoed through that hollow forest. Assuming the worst, you began to move your hands from your face, dropping them by your side once more as you looked at your reflection once again.

“Y-You said you wanted to talk? T-That’d be fine, just- just promise you won’t cry anymore?”

There's a beat of silence, it seemed that not even the wind could speak as your body froze. Sure, you could convince yourself that you were just hearing things, that you were just acting aloof because you were feeling lonely. If you could get yourself on the couch, you could wake up and even tell yourself that the whole experience was just a really surreal dream you had. What you couldn’t convince yourself was the half naked man that appeared to be standing a few feet behind you, his voice matching his lips as you watched them move.

‘Maybe- maybe I’m just seeing things? That-that has to be right, right?! But alcohol doesn’t cause hallucinations and I’m positive that none of my drinks were spiked. So- so...Who the hell is this!?!’

“Are- are you okay Y/N?”

Your body grew stiff as you heard your name roll off of his tongue. If you weren’t getting clearheaded before, you definitely were cold sober now. Those shy indigo eyes that seemed to stare back at your own off of the river's surface as they brought you back to your senses.

‘There is a strange, half-naked man, who somehow knows you by your name, staring at you- talking to you! He doesn’t seem very intimidating, but then again he is a stranger!! In the best case scenario, he could just be a nice guy who found someone in need. Worst case, he’s a psycho that found their next victim! I can’t keep my back turned like this, I have to do something and get the hell out of this!’

Taking a shallow breath in, you swiftly turn your entire body around, facing the stranger that now made your body shiver in fear as you looked up at him. Despite the appearance of the situation, the man seemed to be intimidated by you as he looked away.

‘He doesn’t really seem like he wants to hurt me. If anything, he’s scared of me? Maybe I can intimidate him to leave me alone? Though, I don’t think I could pull it off seeing as I’m still a bit drunk…’

“Y-Y/N?”

Looking back at the man, you notice he begins to reach his hand out toward you, slowly beginning to walk toward your crouched form. Worried for the worst, you scoot away as you respond.

“H-HEY!! D-Don’t come any c-closer! If-If you don’t I-I’ll- ACK!”

Speaking this, you only now notice that there didn’t seem to be any more ground beneath you as you felt your body begin to fall into the river.

“Y/N!”

Before you can process everything that’s happening, you close your eyes in anticipation for the cold water that was bound to drown you. The stranger grabs your wrist, holding your body up above the river, your body mere inches from being submerged in the cold water. Noticing the lack of impact, you flutter your eyes open as you look back at the man before you. Shocked, the man looks down at where he grabbed your wrists. Only now do you notice a purple hue that surrounded both your arms.

“What- what is this?!”

At a loss for words, the man can only look back between your face and where he held your wrist. Confused and scared, you rip your arm from his grip as you stand yourself back up. As you stare at the man, you look around, befuddled by whatever the hell had just happened.

While a part of you would love to ask what just happened, the more logical side of you knew that none of this was worth hanging around to find out. Dusting yourself off, the man speaks up once more as he looks away in what seemed to be guilt.

“Y-Y/N, I-I’m so so-sorry!! I-I didn’t mean to t-touch you- What have I done?!”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you began to shuffle around the man, holding your hands up in surrender as you attempted to empathize with the man. Although, you weren’t sure why he was so worried since he didn’t seem to do anything besides whatever that purple glow was moments before.

“Hey, hey! We don’t have to speak about any of this. I’ll go back and after that we won’t have to ever see each other ever again, okay?”

“Y/N, i-it’s not that simpl- h-Hey, WAIT!!”

Before he had a chance to explain, you sprinted back to your cute rental cottage that you were now wishing you never left. Looking back, you notice the man just stood there as you were almost home.

Suddenly, your body stopped moving. What was even stranger, your body seemed to freeze mid-sprint. Looking around, you noticed that somehow your head was able to move but your arms were stiff as you attempted to force your body to run once more. Just as you were about to give up, your legs moved once more, wobbling as they felt gravity work once more. Not taking any chances, you began to dash once more. Not a second later, your body rolled forward from some sort of large and heavy impact. After your body finished rolling forward, you noticed that you were sitting in the backyard of the cottage, the man sitting on his head as his body laid against the door.

“W-Who or-or What are you?”

The man sighs as he flutters his eyes open, rubbing his head as he looks up at you.

“M-My name’s T-Tamaki Amajiki, and- and I’m a kelpie…”

~End of Part 1~

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Six

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.7k

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Warning: This chapter contains violence, description of damages on the body, swearing, thoughts of death, and some dismembered fingers.

*gifs in all chapters not mine

__________________________________________________________

Chapter Six- Dog Tags

Y/N gripped at Alexei’s skin on his arm until she broke skin, causing him to let go of her throat. She dropped to the ground, coughing as the fresh air filled her lungs. When she looked back up she saw Alexei’s leather boot on Clint’s neck, threatening to press down harder.

“Now, you are going to come with me willingly, or I’m going to kill your friend, and anybody else who tries to help you.” Alexei threatened in his deep voice, his eyes locked on Y/N.

Y/N looked at Clint, before meeting Alexei’s gaze. She nods, holding her hands up non-threateningly, “Let him go, alive.” She said softly, “And I’ll get us out here without alerting anybody.” She promised as she stood slowly, feeling relief when Alexei removed his boot from Clint’s neck. Y/N watched Alexei carefully, making sure to show him no fear. She knew he thrived on it. She instead glared daggers at him. Just as promised, Y/N lead Alexei into the garage, shutting off any alarms that would sound and alert those who were sleeping. She looked at the various keys on the holder, trying to decide which to take. She decided on Clint’s black Jeep, grabbing the keys and throwing them to Alexei who caught them with ease before tossing them back to her.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re driving. I’m keeping my eyes on you.” He growled as he got into the passenger side of the car. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, sliding into the drivers seat, securing herself in the seatbelt. She opened the garage with the opener and quickly pulled out, speeding her way down the driveway and off of the facility grounds. Y/N looked at the building in the rearview mirror, wondering if this was the last time she would see her home.

—

Bucky awoke with a jolt, breathing heavily as he sat up. His dog tags jingled softly on his chest at the sudden movement. He rubs his vibranium hand across his face, wiping away the pellets of sweat that had formed. Another nightmare. He had watched himself kill an innocent woman who had witnessed his crime, watching her beg for her life as he squeezed the remaining life out of her by the throat with his then silver arm. He looked around his room, catching his breath. His room was bare. There were no pictures on the wall. He had a recliner in the corner beside a small table that had a lamp on it with a small notebook as well. He also had a desk, the only belongings on it were an almost empty bottle of whiskey and a glass. His tv was on, playing a rerun of an old baseball game. There was no bed, instead just some pillows and blankets on the floor. Beds were too comfortable for him, he could never get to sleep when he was in one. Bucky pulled himself off the floor, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv. He pulls a grey shirt on over his head, interrupted by a knock at the door. Bucky adjusted his gaze over to the closed door, wondering if it was Y/N. He smiled as he walked over hoping to see her red eyes staring at him. He turned the knob and opened the door only to find the wrong Rogers on the other side, turning his smile into a bit of a frown.

Steve looked at Bucky with concern in his eyes, “We have a problem.”

The team gathered in the medical bay once again, looking at Clint who laid in the bed, monitors beeping in tune with his heartbeat. He had a few stitches to his head where he had been hit that knocked him out and his neck was red from where the boot had been smashing his neck. But he was awake and talking, “I didn’t get a good look at who did it.” He said softly, wincing at the pain from his neck as he spoke, “I was out for a run and then there was this man with blonde hair and red eyes. He knocked me out.” He lifted his hand to touch the spot stitched on his head, “Next thing I remember is Steve found me."

“Alexei.” Bucky muttered, remembering Y/N’s description of the man. He was the one with blonde hair, “His name is Alexei. He’s one of the other ones like Y/N. The one she hears is Dimitri.” Bucky revealed to the team, feeling the anger growing inside of him. Alexei had taken her. Bucky had promised to keep her safe and he failed. He turned and allowed his vibranium arm to punch through a glass door, causing it to shatter leaving the glass shards at his feet.

Steve watched it unfold, seeing the pain on Bucky’s face as well as the rage. He was finally understanding how much Y/N meant to him. He walks over to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder, “We will get her back, Buck. I promise.” He said, nodding as he said this as if trying to tell himself also

“Y/N took Clint’s car.” Natasha said as she came in after doing a thorough check of the facility, “We can figure out where she is, she doesn’t know how to turn the tracker off.”

—

Y/N gripped the steering wheel tightly, biting her lip at the silence. Her memories of Alexei were flooding back as he sat next to her. He was ruthless, enjoyed every kill. He was dangerous. She drove fast, swerving around the curves of the road they were on. Alexei sat in the passenger seat, watching every move she made and spitting out directions. Y/N moved her eyes to look down the cliff from the side of the road for a split second before returning her gaze back ahead of her. She pressed down on the gas petal slightly. There was a reason she had taken Clint’s car, she knew he had to have some secret stash of weapons hidden in here somewhere. Her eyes slowly looked over to Alexei who had finally taken his gaze off of her to look down at the cellphone in his hand, noting he hadn’t put his seatbelt on. “This is my chance..” Y/N thought. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and cranked the wheel to the left, causing the car to turn sharply and drive off the cliff.

The car tumbled down the cliff, causing Y/N’s body to shift in all different directions in the car before the airbags deployed. It hit the large rocks on the way down until it reached the forest area below. The car bounced around between the trees before finally coming to a stop by smashing into one of the trunks of a large tree. Y/N opened her eyes as the car was stilled, groaning at the pain from being thrown about. She could feel the seatbelt digging into her chest. She pushed the airbags away from her face and removed her seatbelt. There was a loud ringing in her ears which was slowly fading. Y/N usually didn’t feel much pain, but this was painful enough that she was. She looked at the windshield, noticing a large hole in it. Alexei must’ve been ejected.. She thought, part of her plan all along, though she knew that wouldn’t keep him down long. He was built like a boulder and his rage made it so he wasn’t down for long. She reaches her hand over to the glove box, wincing in pain as she pried it open. Thank god, Clint. She thought as she saw a handful of grenades and some extra arrows also. She grabbed one of the arrows, clicking it to its explosive setting like he had shown her before tucking it between her sweat’s waistband and her skin. She could hear branches cracking outside, knowing Alexei was coming. Y/N pushed the car door open, falling to the ground out of the car. Her balance hadn’t fully returned yet. She looked up, watching Alexei approach her with anger in his eyes. She could hear his growling growing louder as he got closer. He was covered in cuts from the glass and fall, bleeding through his shirt.

Y/N gasped as he grabbed her by the throat again, lifting her up so her feet dangled above the ground. He proceeded to slam her into what remained of hood of the car, growling with anger, “You Bitch.” He snarled. Y/N winced at the slam, hearing small cracks within her body. She assumed the cracks had been some of her ribs. She groaned again, opening her eyes to look up at Alexei’s red ones.

“Dimitri wanted you back alive, but your corpse will have to do.” Alexei spat at her in his thick Russian accent, lifting her from the hood and slamming her down again before tossing her against the trunk of a tree with ease, making her yelp a little at the impact.

Y/N laid on the floor, coughing up a little blood onto the dirt. She once again was met with Alexei’s hand at her throat, lifting to pin her against the tree. She stared at him, once again showing no fear. She thought for a moment this was going to be her end, closing her eyes as if to accept it. She felt the pain run up her body, the air emptying her lungs as Alexei’s hand trapped new air from coming in. As she stayed still, thinking of her demise, memories of her time at the facility flashed through her head. Seeing her brother again. Watching tv with Wanda. And Bucky… Oh, god, Bucky. Y/N thought of their moments together then thought about what he would go through if she just gave up in this moment. She felt the anger rise inside of her, adrenaline kicking in and blocking out her pain. She opened her eyes again to meet Alexei’s, a deep growl passing her lips. Y/N lifted her hand, grabbing his arm and twisting it away from her neck, wincing slightly at the pain in her own arm. Alexei landed a punch to her cheek, which she returned to his nose. She fought through the pain with each movement, absorbing each punch landed to her as she continued to back him up with her own punches. Y/N backed him up closer to the car, before kicking him in the chest causing him to fly back into the car through the driver side door which shut behind him due to the impact. Y/N pulled the arrow out of her sweatpants, clicking it again to activate. She ran towards the car, throwing the arrow in through the hole in the windshield, right by the glove box full of grenades and Alexei. She tucked her head as she tried to move away, but the arrow went off before she could get to a safe distance. There was the first explosion from the arrow, then the grenades started exploding before the engine and gas tank of the car itself exploded, releasing a large cloud of smoke along with a fireball into the sky. Y/N was thrown back, hitting a large boulder. She let out a cry as her head hit the hard rock before falling to the ground. Everything was suddenly still as the pain within her body quickly returned. She opened her eyes to look at the sky, seeing that the sun was rising. She felt the warm rays hit her face through the tree top. She stared for a moment at the trees lightening, her memories bringing her back to the sunrise with Bucky. And with those memories, her eyes closed and the world around her faded into darkness.

—

“We got a body around what’s left of the car!” Sam yelled, then had a look of disgust, “Well, pieces of a body.” He muttered as he saw some fingers not attached to hand. Bucky and Steve were at his side in seconds, looking at the pieces. Bucky felt a little relief as he saw the fingers, too big to be Y/N’s. But where was she? The car had been pretty much blown to pieces, Alexei also.

“It isn’t her.” Steve said, breaking the silence as he looked around, trying to find any sign of his sister.

“I’ve got her.” Wanda’s voice came over their earpieces, it was silent before she continued, “Sam, Nat, keep them back. I need to get her back to the facility quickly.”

Steve and Bucky moved to run to Wanda’s position, but were stopped by Natasha and Sam who held them back. Bucky pushed Sam away with ease, running towards Wanda. Steve got passed Natasha also, following close behind. They paused when they saw Wanda using her abilities to levitate Y/N from the ground with herself, headed back up the hill. Blood dripped from Y/N’s body, leaving a trail behind. Bucky watched her, horrified at how she looked. She was covered with gashes, her clothes torn. He noticed her hair was mess with dirt and blood. Her face was red and starting to develop black bruises. Her skin on her arms seemed a little scorched from the blast. He watched until Wanda was out of view, knowing that Wanda would levitate them all the way back to the facility where they already had a medical team on standby. Bucky turned to look at Steve, anger bubbling inside of him. Steve met his gaze, the same anger reflected back at Bucky. They both made their way back up the hill passed Natasha and Sam, leaving them to clean up the mess. They got in one of the SUVs and sped back towards the facility in silence.

Steve and Bucky waited outside the med bay doors. The curtains had been drawn for privacy so they couldn’t see inside while the medical team worked on Y/N. Wanda paced the room, chewing on her fingers with concern. Bucky sat hunched over in the chair, his foot tapping impatiently as he stared at the floor. Steve was standing by the doors, watching the curtain for any movement, before looking at Bucky, “You said his name was Alexei?” He asked, breaking the silence. He needed to know what Bucky knew.

Bucky nodded, looking over to Steve. He debated sharing what Y/N had told him. He sat back in the chair, running his right hand through his hair slowly, “His name was Alexei. The one that talks to her is Dimitri.” He said, the names coming off his tongue in disgust, “Dimitri wanted to overthrow the Hydra facility. With Alexei’s help, Dimitri was trying to make Y/N comply with the plans. He bit her, envenomating her and causing hallucinations, but the venom doesn’t kill her. That’s where those scars are from.” He divulged his knowledge, knowing it was safer for Y/N if Steve knew. He stood from his chair, “Dimitri must’ve sent Alexei to collect her.”

Steve listened, his forehead wrinkling with worry and anger, “With Alexei gone, he may come for Y/N himself next.” He said, his brain processing the information and trying to come up with a strategy to keep Y/N safe. Both Steve and Bucky turned quickly at the sound of the door to the med bay finally opening, rushing over to the doctor who had slipped through and closed the door behind her. She looked between Steve and Bucky before speaking, “The good news is Y/N is healing extremely quick. She should be fine and make a full recovery. I’ve seen her blood work, she has extra enzymes in her DNA that make her heal at a remarkable rate. Given the extent of her injuries, any normal human would be dead just from the car accident alone.” She said.

Steve nodded listening to the doctor, relief washing over his body as he heard Y/N would be okay.

“The bad news is,” The doctor continued, “We have to keep her sedated. She kept waking up not knowing the extent of her injuries and trying to move around so she is very, heavily sedated. I will be keeping her unconscious for a few days while her body heals itself. I’ll keep a close eye on her, but you can go in and see her.”

As soon as Bucky heard that he could see Y/N, he was through the door in an instant. He is eyes fell upon Y/N’s battered body. He approached slowly, reaching out to her with his right hand to sweep some of the dirty hair from her bruised face. He winced at the dark marks, never thinking he would see her like this. His body filled up with guilt. He had promised to protect her, keep Alexei and Dimitri from hurting her again. He had failed. She laid in front of him in the worst shape he has seen another human being in. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was dead. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered to her softly, “I should’ve been there to protect you.” His voice broke with sadness.

Steve was now in the room, listening to Bucky whisper to his sister. He approached the side of Y/N’s bed, placing his hand on Bucky’s left shoulder, “She’s still here, Y/N will be okay.” He reminded his friend. Wanda had came in behind Steve, her tear filled eyes looking at Y/N. She went to the opposite side of the bed from Steve and Bucky, quickly gathering Y/N’s pale hand into hers. Wanda had witnessed so much pain in her life, this was just another thing that added to her long list of trauma.

Over the next few days Y/N’s small cuts healed quickly, leaving tiny silver scars in their place. Her bruising and swelling had gone down significantly. Eventually Steve got the okay to move her back to Y/N’s and Wanda’s bedroom as long as she stayed sedated for a couple more days. He didn’t want her to wake up surrounded by doctors and machines in the medical bay. Steve would visit her everyday and sit by her bedside for a while, watching her body heal itself miraculously. Wanda helped care for Y/N as she stayed sedated. She cleaned Y/N’s hair and brushed it everyday, wanting her to look nice. Bucky sat in the chair next to her bed constantly, even more than Steve, only leaving when Wanda requested privacy to clean Y/N up or to sleep. He brought sunflowers to put by her bed one day, hoping to see Y/N smile at them when she awoke. He watched as her larger wounds slowly started to close. Sometimes he would hear something inside her crack, assuming the sound was her bones going back into their proper positions. The doctor had told them that would happen as she healed herself. Sometimes Y/N would flinch in her sleep, gripping the blanket draped over her. Bucky would always touch his hand to her’s gently until she relaxed her grip. He liked to think Y/N knew he was there by her side.

It was day six with Y/N under sedation. Bucky got himself up off his makeshift bed on the floor, dragging himself to the bathroom for a quick shower before he would check on Y/N. He exited the bathroom dressed in jeans and a black t shirt, rubbing a towel through his hair as he walked down the hall. He froze when he heard some laughter coming from the other side of Y/N’s and Wanda’s door. He knocked gently, hearing Wanda say come in. He opened the door slowly, immediately looking over to Y/N. His blue eyes met her red ones and his insides melted. All the worry left his body. She was awake. He walked over and sat in the chair by her, “Hey..” Was all he managed to say as he reached out and touched her hand, smiling when she grasped his hand back.

“Hey.” Y/N replied with a small smile, still feeling a little loopy from the now lowered sedation. She was almost all healed besides some of the larger gashes. She also felt extremely sore as her body was pulling itself back together, “You’re just in time to meet McDreamy.” She said, motioning her free hand towards the tv that was playing an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Bucky chuckled, giving her a crooked smile, “Ah, I get to finally see what this McDreamy is all about. Size up the competition.” He joked, leaning back in his chair as he kept his eyes on Y/N’s face.

Y/N giggled at his reply, “Oh no, you know where I stand with McDreamy. It’s McSteamy you should worry about. I got a thing for older guys.” She said softly, smiling at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh great, now there’s a McSteamy.” But smiled when she made her comment about older guys, knowing that was meant towards him. He looked over at Wanda as she exited the room, taking empty glasses with her to fill with water. He returned his gaze back to Y/N, reaching up with his vibranium hand to touch her face softly, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been there. I promised you.” He said softly, his smile changing into some sort of a defeated and guilty frown.

Y/N’s eyebrows came together as she listened to his apology, shaking her head, “No, Buck.” She said softly, “I should’ve came to you like you told me. He woke me up, singing in my head. I almost came into your room, but I didn’t. I should have. Dimitri did this, and Alexei.” She reminded, knowing now she should’ve just gone into his room. But then she wondered what would’ve happened if she did. She wondered if Clint would still be alive. She wondered if Alexei would’ve came in to get her, hurting whoever stood in his path. She sighed, leaning her head back against her pillow, closing her eyes at the thoughts. Her head ached from being thrown against that boulder from the explosion of the car, “Alexei is dead, right?” She asked softly, needing confirmation.

Bucky nodded, “You blew him up into pieces.” He reminded, wondering how much Y/N remembered.

Y/N sighed in relief hearing that Alexei was dead, “ It was the only way I could think of keeping him down. He would’ve just kept coming unless… I killed him.” She whispered, just then realizing she had killed another being. Even if that person was Alexei and it was kill or be killed, it didn’t sit well with her, “Thank god for Clint and his hidden arsenals.” She muttered, then looked over at Bucky with concern, “Is he alright?”

Bucky nodded again, stroking his thumb along her hand gently. He could hear the guilt in her voice as she mentioned Alexei, “Barton is fine. A little bruised up, but he will be fine, thanks to you. We watched the security footage, you saved him.” He watched Y/N for a moment before speaking again, “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me next time you hear Dimitri that you won’t hesitate to find me.” He lifted his right hand from her grasp to gently stroke her hair.

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling suddenly tired again, “I promise, Bucky.” She whispered back, her eyes fluttering as if she was fighting the sleep until she gave in, asleep again. It took a lot out of her as her body healed itself. Although the pain was subsiding, she knew her body was still injured and would take a while longer until she was able to push herself normally.

Wanda helped Y/N over the next couple days as she continued to heal. As much as Y/N hated the help, she accepted it. Y/N didn’t really feel the pain anymore, but the doctors had assured her time and time again that even though she didn’t feel the pain, it was still there and she needed to take it easy which meant Wanda was constantly tending to her every need like she was a helpless child.

“I don’t need you to sit in the bathroom while I shower, Wanda.” Y/N said as Wanda took a seat on the cupboard by the sink. Y/N folded her arms as if refusing to take off her clothes, the hot water in the shower behind her causing the mirror to steam up.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “And what if you fall again? You want to sit there embarrassed for another hour, or would you like me to help you up and not tell a soul?” She bargained, then closes her eyes, “I’m not peeking, get in there.” She demanded, using her ability to open the shower curtain, “And don’t make faces at me.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at Wanda as if admitting defeat, before shedding her clothes and stepping into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind her. She winced a little as the hot water ran down her skin. She took the time to look at all of her new scars from Alexei, tracing them softly. She quickly finished washing her hair, scrubbing her scalp and wincing. Her head and back hurt the most still from being slammed against the rock during the blast from the car. She turned off the shower as she finished to find a floating towel on the other side of the shower curtain, Wanda smiling with her eyes still closed. Y/N snatched the towel and dried herself off before changing into fresh clothes. Wanda helped brush through Y/N’s hair gently, careful to avoid putting too much pressure as she knew Y/N’s head still was sensitive.

—

Bucky sat with Steve in the training area of the facility, just getting done sparring with each other. It had been a good release for both of them from their anger over what had happened to Y/N. Bucky looks at Steve, “I lied to you before, Steve.”

Steve looked at him confused, “About what?” He questioned. Bucky never lied to Steve for as long as they knew each other. Bucky would always just dodge questions he didn’t want to answer, but never lie.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his hair, “After Thanos. When you came back from returning the stones. You told me about how you wished you would’ve stayed back in time with Peggy, experience life with her but couldn’t do it because it felt selfish. You asked me if I would’ve done the same thing, go back and live a normal life in my own time.” He paused, looking at his vibranium hand before looking back to Steve, “I told you no. That was lie. If I had the opportunity, I would’ve been selfish. I would’ve gone back and kept the promise of that date to Y/N without even thinking about it. She would’ve been the one I went back for.” He said softly, imagining what it would’ve been like for himself and Y/N if he was able to go back in time and keep his promise to her. He wouldn’t have allowed her to be taken by Hydra, he would’ve protected her and had a long life showing nothing but love to Y/N.

Steve nodded at Bucky’s words. Everyday he realized more that the way he felt about Peggy, that undying love, was the same Bucky felt for his sister, “There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about Peggy. I wish everyday I would’ve taken that opportunity to go back and be with her.” He remembered, looking into the distance with his blue eyes as if he was day dreaming, before returning his look to Bucky, “You get the opportunity to try again with Y/N, though. You don’t have to go back.” He said, patting Bucky’s shoulder, “Just don’t screw it up.” Steve stood up to leave the training room, accepting the fact that whatever feelings Bucky and Y/N had for each other was something he needed to just step out of the way of.

“I won’t.” Bucky said with a small smile. Hearing that Steve seemed to finally be accepting of the feelings between him and Y/N made him happy, calm. He didn’t have to worry about what would happen to his friendship with Steve as he pursued his relationship with Y/N. He got himself up and followed Steve out, going to clean himself up before he went to see Y/N.

Bucky walks into his room after his shower, rubbing his hair with a towel to dry. He wore only black sweatpants and his dog tags, planning to change into something nicer before seeing Y/N. He shut the door behind him and turned to look in his room, pausing seeing Y/N’s red eyes staring back at him from his recliner. He smiled as he saw her sitting there, “What’re you doing in here, doll?” he asks, throwing the towel in a clothes hamper.

Y/N watched him enter the room, biting her bottom lip at the sight of his bare chest and his dog tags dangling. He looked perfect, like some sort of god. His words snapped her back to reality and she looked from his chest to his eyes, meeting his gaze, “I was looking for you.” She said, a smile crawling across her lips, “Is.. that your bed?” She ask, pointing at the blankets and pillows on the floor where an actual bed should be.

Bucky grinned as her saw her eyes flicker from his body to his face, wondering if that was want he saw in her eyes for a moment. He looked where pointed to his make shift bed, before looking back to her, “Uh, yeah. I guess I’m just used to sleeping on a harder surface.” He explained, walking past her to the closet and pulling a shirt out his closet, pulling it over his head. He watched Y/N look at his chest once more before it disappeared under the shirt, grinning again to himself, “What can I do for you, darlin?”

Y/N nodded as he spoke about his bed, watching him put his shirt on, shielding her view. Her eyes flickered back to his face, “I was just escaping Wanda’s watchful eye, she won’t even let me shower by myself yet.” She said with a sigh, “Which I appreciate her taking care of me, just sometimes she seems like a helicopter mom. A helicopter mom I love to bits.”

Bucky laughed at her analogy, secretly appreciating Wanda keeping an eye on Y/N. He knew as well she wasn’t fully healed and needed to take it easy for a little longer, “Well after what you went through, I don’t blame her. We all have been watching you, just her a little more closely.” He said with a smile, leaning against his desk as he crossed his arms, “How have you been since Alexei, you know, mentally?” He asks curiously. Her body had mostly healed, just leaving behind scars. But he knew better than anybody that the trauma can live in the mind for years.

Y/N gripped the arms of the recliner with her fingers for a moment as he asks, then brings her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as she sat in the chair, wincing at the slight pain in her back from the movements, “I did what I had to do, but I still feel guilty even though it was kill or be killed.” She said softly, her eyes moving to look at the hardwood flooring, “There was a moment out there, where he had me by the neck against a tree after the crash, I closed my eyes. I wondered if I should just let that be it, let him just get it over with so Dimitri had no reason to come back to this facility.” The words passed her lips, looking over to Bucky for a moment to see a pained look on his face at his words. She continued, returning her gaze to the floor, “But then I thought of Steve. Of Wanda. And.. you.” Her eyes flickered back to his face, “I didn’t want last moments with any of you. I wanted more. I wanted to live a life with my brother in it, to watch all the dumb tv shows with Wanda and laugh. I wanted more moments with you.” She paused, taking a deep breath, “I wanted to be close to you again. So I fought, even though my body couldn’t take much, and I killed him.”

Bucky watched her closely, his face flushing over with sadness and pain for a moment as Y/N talked about giving up. Hearing that she wanted more moments with him and be close to him, he relaxed a little. He walked over, crouching down in front of her and placing both his hands around her legs that were secured to her chest, meeting her gaze, “I’m happy you made the decision to keep fighting for the things you want.” He said softly to her, lifting his right hand to touch her face which she turned into, accepting his touch, “As selfish as it may sound, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t.” He pulled his hands away, reaching to his collar and lifting the dog-tags from his neck, removing them for the first time since he got them back. He gently placed them around Y/N’s neck, smiling at her again, “Just a reminder that I’m always here for you, always close to you.”

Y/N shook her head at his gift, “Bucky, these are yours. I can’t-“ She began to take them off to give them back, knowing it was an important object to him.

Bucky grabs her hands, stopping Y/N from removing them, “They are a symbol of my past life before I was the Winter Soldier.” He said softly, “And when I look at you, I realize you are my past, present, and future life. They belong to you.”

____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @vivien-1211 @buckylove123

@subtlemalice @abitofeverythinggg @uwu-sebastianstan @nickangel13

Again, if I missed you on the taglist, I apologize! Just send me a message and I’ll sure to add you (:

[caitsyoi]

This is a continuation of my The Maps of Us posts. In this post, we look at the overall journey our characters took in both games!

Behind the cut to keep your dashboards clean.

Keep in mind, all of these should be taken with a grain of salt. We don't know the actual route for all these journeys, just the major stops the had along the way. The biggest reason I did this was to 1) see just how far each journey was, and 2) look for any interesting details that could be found from this view. That being said, I hope this is as interesting for you as it was for me.

The original long af journey. Boston > Lincoln > Pittsburgh > Jackson > Boulder > SLC > and back to Jackson. Almost 4,000 miles total, probably longer when you know they couldn't just take the direct route the whole time. We know it took them about a year, all together. In game we only see a small part of that year and their journey. I think they showed us the most important stuff, but I'm hoping the TV show will include any cut scenes from whatever went on between Pittsburgh and Jackson. Although, having driven across much of this, they probably just saw a fuckload of farmland.

Perhaps the next trip, chronologically, or maybe this occurred before TLOU 1. This is the route Dina and Talia might have travelled on the way to Jackson. Then again, her sister was super paranoid, so they might've made a big zigzag pattern all the way to Jackson. I wonder how they heard about Jackson, and when. I'm assuming she came from Albuquerque, but I can't remember if that is actually ever said (it might be a fandom invention that I have absorbed). God, I just want more Dina backstory. I don't care if it's in a DLC or in the show, or even in a comic or something. GIVE US MORE DINA!!!

Ellie and Dina's journey to Seattle. Jackson > Idaho Falls > Twin Falls > Baker City > Yakima > Seattle. This is probably the most accurate map of a journey in this game, and it's all based on Ellie's journal entries (I love her journal so much). Dina catching rabbits in Idaho Falls (Ellie loves her), jumped by hunters in Twin Falls, they saw wild horses in Baker City (she really loves Dina), then Yakima where they found the highway (I'm guessing 82, which leads to 90, which would've taken them close to Seattle).

I love how you can see them moving around the mountains by the cities they visited (although again, the path they took between cities was probably not so direct).

Another neat detail from this map, Ellie mentions wanting to go through Boise because it would save time. This is neat for 2 reasons: the first is that Dina mentioned coming across survivors from Boise in the patrol log (so she probably had a good reason for avoiding Boise), the second reason is that if you look closely at the map, it really would have been faster to go through Boise. From Twin Falls, they could've taken a main road (84) all the way to Baker City and it would cut through Boise. Avoiding this road was probably safer, but it did cost them some time. I wonder, if they had gotten there a couple days earlier, what would have happened?

Ellie's trip to Santa Barbara. The second longest trip Ellie takes, after the one she took with Joel in Part 1. Also one of the most detailed routes we have, so we know from her journal that she went from Jackson > Dixie National Forest > near Las Vegas > Palmdale > Santa Barbara. Jumped by hunters in Dixie National Forest, avoided Las Vegas since she could hear all the infected from some distance away, Palmdale where she hid in the basement and buried those children, and finally Santa Barbara.

The neat thing about this map is that you can see how she stayed in the greener areas near water for as long as she could. Then she said fuck it and went through the desert, probably trying to save time.

A bonus picture of Ellie and Joel's trip to the museum. I saw a reddit post today that said it was based off the one in Laramie, so here we go. Again, who knows if they took this exact route, but since there aren't a lot of cities in Wyoming, it's very possible that this is pretty close. It also makes sense for them to go SE, since I am pretty sure that is the direction of the power plant and the route to it must be pretty protected.

One last neat thing for this map, this is roughly a similar route they would've taken to Colorado from Jackson in the first game (if this is in any way accurate).

[streetlight11]

Our Magic

Theme: superpowers au, sort of enemies to lovers

Genre: fluff, very mild angst if you squint

WC: 1.9k

Pairing: Teleporter!San x Telekinetic!FemReader

a/n: Hi :) For those of you who is confused, the theme of this fic is based on the game called 'Choices' and the specific book this idea came from was called 'The Elementalists'. I'll include pictures of the facilities mentioned in this so that you have a general idea of how it looks like! Anyways, the fic doesn't really have a deep plot here, I just jumped straight to the fluffy end. Enjoy 😅

~~~

Penderghast College was a school that provides education and home for kids that were born with supernatural powers. It was a bright Thursday afternoon and it was currently lunch time as the students bustled through the halls, garden, corridors and also the dining hall.

“Hey, did you guys finish the assignment on the spell yesterday?” Yunho asked as some of the boys sitting at that table shook their heads. A series of complaints leaving their lips at the mention of their dreadful assignment.

“I got stuck at the third spell so I gave up.” Wooyoung said while taking a bite out of the Bourbon Apple Pie.

“I don’t understand a single thing he said in class.” San sighed, making Hongjoong and Jongho agree. Just as he was about to scoop up a chunk of his shaved ice dessert, the bowl began to float upwards. It hovered in front of his face for a good few seconds.

“What the-” San whispered as he began to see red smoke surrounding the bowl. This was a dead giveaway on who was behind this.

With that, San scanned the cafeteria in search of this person only for him to finally lock eyes with the girl who has been diligently getting on his nerves. There she was, sitting in her seat almost across the hall with her friends. Her eyes began to glow red, her finger swirling around slowly in the air as she pointed her finger right in his direction.

She smirked when she locked eyes with him and with one soft flick of her fingers, the dessert bowl tipped over. It splashed onto his shirt, making him jolt out of the seat abruptly. This was enough to catch the attention of others, turning their heads in his direction out of curiosity.

She scoffed a laugh as one of her friends turned to her with a small frown.

“Y/N, don't you think that’s a bit mean?” Changmin asked but the girl only shrugged.

“I just love making him mad.” She confessed, only for a sudden tight grip around her shoulders made her scoff. San suddenly appeared behind her, pulling her in a headlock.

“Do you ever stop?” San growled in her ear.

Just then, San sharply pulled away when he felt hot sparks nipping at his skin thanks to her red flames of energy she radiated off her body. She turned around to him with a small smile dancing on her lips.

“Do you want me to?”

“Fucking yes!”

“Then no.” She smirked.

With a grunt of annoyance, San flashed out of the cafeteria and into his dorm room. Y/N laughed as she turned back to her friends, only to see Changmin glaring at her.

“What?” She shrugged her shoulders without feeling a single guilt which made Changmin sigh, clearly not agreeing with what she did even though he wasn’t actually friends with San.

A few weeks later, San couldn’t sleep so he snuck out of the dorm building, only to head towards the Wood Nymph Forest, successfully sneaking past the carved marble figure. He was just randomly teleporting at a 10 feet distance from left to right, front to back when he heard bickering from somewhere.

He tried to find the source, only to see two shadowy figures just a few metres down from him diagonally. He teleported to the nearby tree that hides him from the sight of whoever it was.

However, when he arrived behind the tree, the voice sounded oddly familiar. And for the first time, she sounds like she was… crying?

“You’re leaving me for the girl you called atrocious just yesterday? What happened to your promises? Was I never good enough for you?” Y/N asked as her tears rolled down little by little, her voice cracking here and there.

“Look, people change and feelings definitely change too.”

“So you’re telling me, all these months of spending time together, buying little gifts for each other, sneaking out at night just to watch the starry night, going on midnight adventures, they’re all nothing to you now?” Y/N asked in which he nodded without a single doubt.

This was enough to break her heart into pieces.

“Tell me what I lack from her, I can try to change. I can try to be like her. Just tell me. Please Minhyuk!”

“Y/N! I already said I don’t have feelings for you anymore and that’s that! I’m breaking up with you whether you like it or not.” With that being said, Minhyuk began to disintegrate with the wind, since that was his form of teleportation.

“Minhyuk… Kang Minhyuk!” Y/N called desperately as she fell to the ground, her knees suddenly buckled letting gravity sink her down to earth.

Her cries were soft. San watched her body slowly begin to ignite red hues of smoke around her body.

Normally, in some circumstances, San would just turn around and walk away whenever it comes to her. He couldn’t even bring himself to fight back with her sometimes simply because he wanted nothing to do with her.

But that night, something in him was screaming at him to comfort her. Maybe it has been doing that all along, he just didn’t want to.

But before he could take a step forward, she already got up and began walking further into the woods to where he remembers the lake to be. He followed behind her at quite a distance to avoid being noticed by her. She soon arrived at the lake, only to plop on the pebbled floor inches away from the lake as the water crashed onto shore in gentle waves.

She buried her face in her arms that were hugging her knees tightly, completely blocking out the world. Even though she could definitely sense his presence behind her, she simply continued crying.

San sighed softly, carefully reappearing a foot behind her body. He silently took a seat beside her. She finally looked up, turning her head away from him as she wiped her tears with the sleeves of her sweater.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice cold as he stared at the side of her face, only for his gaze to drop to her neck.

“Unfortunately for you, I just so happened to be around that area when you had that fight with your boyfriend-”

“Ex-boyfriend.” She corrected him and he simply nodded.

“Right…”

The both of them fell silent as she turned back in front only for her gaze to drop to her promise ring she had on from when Minhyuk bought it for her on their first month together.

She quietly took it out of her ring finger, only to levitate it in her palm before it disintegrated into red dust in her hands.

“Why do the people I care for the most always end up leaving me?” She suddenly questioned him. Since he was quiet, she turned to look at him.  

He didn’t look shocked, nor did he look like he was about to tease her. Instead, his eyes were soft, just staring at her innocently.

“Sometimes when people leave you, it’s for the good reason. Maybe they were going to be a bad company for you in the future? Might be that they’ve grown in such a way that they don’t see themselves matching with your personality? Might also be that they came into your life as a test for you.” San said, only for her to break eye contact. Turning back ahead to divert her gaze and stare at the waters instead.

“If you were him, would you leave me too?” Her question came as a surprise for him, making him nearly choke on his own saliva.

“If it’s something that we both can work on together, then I wouldn’t.” He said, in which she slowly nodded. But her mind was still somewhere else. Just then, a bright idea flashed in his mind as he got up, only for her eyes to follow his figure.

“Let’s go. Get up.” He suddenly proposed, catching her off guard.

“Go where?” She asked slightly taken aback, holding his hand out for her to take.

“Have fun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on!” San said with a smile, grabbing her hands and dragged her onto her feet as he began running towards the waters. She yelped the minute her legs got splashed by the waters. However, he continued to pull her in deeper.

“Ahh! San! I didn’t bring any more clothes!” She squeaked as he chuckled, telling her that it was fine and for her to just relax. They were now waist deep. Her shorts and the bottom part of her sweater was already soaked.

Just then, San let go of her hand only to disappear. She jumped back in shock, looking around to see her alone in the middle of the water.

Right at that moment, something grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down, only for her to dunk her body by accident up to her chin. San reappeared onto the surface only to gasp for air. Laughing before wiping his face off the water droplets.

“Choi San!” She scolded him but the boy didn’t seem to be taking her seriously. For some reason, she didn’t feel annoyed. In fact, she actually felt happy. A small smile tugged on her lips as he splashed a handful of water on her, causing her to gasp.

They played around for quite a bit, that wasn’t until Y/N’s feet slipped past a sudden drop in the lake. 

She lost her balance when she submerged fully about a foot in before San appeared in front of her only to teleport onto a shallow end. She gripped onto his shoulders tightly while he wrapped his arms around her waist to prevent her from slipping. Both of them gasped for air as they tried to catch their breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, making her look at him in the eyes only to feel a sudden wash of shyness come through her.

Why did she feel this way when she’s been nothing but a nuisance to him all this while?

She nodded softly as he whispered a soft ‘okay’ before his eyes travelled down to her lips. San was so sure he found her annoying before but why is he feeling this now?

He leaned in little by little, feeling her squeeze his shoulder slightly only to stop when he brushed his lips over hers very lightly. The gentle waves pushing their bodies to move along with the current as his arms around her waist tightens. With that last wave, it accidentally pushed San’s body forward, making him seal his lips on hers.

She froze, watching him close his eyes. That’s when she decided to do the same. She soon moved her lips with his. Feeling him move his lips with hers in a gentle kiss. She pulled away to breathe when the waves had gotten calmer.

“Why did you do that?” She asked softly, her voice barely audible. For some reason, he couldn’t find himself to look at her in the eye.

“I… I don’t know.” 

She fell quiet as she gently cupped his face only to kiss him again, just to see how he would react. Thinking he would pull away or push her. But instead, he seemed to melt even deeper into the kiss. San wraps her legs around his waist before teleporting them onto shore with her laying down while he hovers over her.

San was passionate about the kiss. Feeling her tangle her fingers into his damp hair, only to tug on it lightly. This action caused him to exhale a soft breath, making him hiss.

“Are you gonna continue picking on me after today?” He asked when he pulled away to look at her face that adorns a smile.

“Just for the laughs? Probably yeah.” She teased. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he peppered her lips with small kisses.

~~~~

Here are the pictures for reference: