#werewolf!ellie

[astralnymphh]

Um so wolves go into heat around winter an it got me thinking. Werewolf!ellie in heat absolutely RAILING reader

Im talking absolutely DESTROYING reader

She turn up at the door like "scissor tongitj?? Scissor tonight queen??? ✂️✂️"

♱|. . a/n: i'm supposed to be writing vampire smut.. but here we are! just need to get something out even if it's shitty (i'm also just sick and dgaf about perfectly writing a blurb).. i've also been listening to juno a lot so all i can think about is BREEDING. mdni.

werewolf!ellie panting at the corner of your cracked door—dark, ripped jeans, a crucible of sweat that clumps hairs to her forehead, shine to her skin—and she rushes a near nothing from her lips before the desperation could crawl out and eat you whole. if she quietened her own heart, she could catch yours pounding. “hey babe, fuckin' missed you. c'mere.” each syllable is accompanied by gusts of her gutsy—and almost visible to the cold—breath. its scent and heat bled through quickly. it poured over, into, and under her swooping fingertips, which had the back of your head snared and pulled into her mouth, eating your response with a whine she never intended to release.

the nature of your girlfriend isn't occultic to you; she drags you into her midnight realm and makes you feel like the worshipped moon. at this point, your brain tends to forget that she's even a werewolf to begin with, and eases in the penchant way she has with you: chasing you, loving hard, owning handfuls of your flesh that she lets spill and manipulate her senses. but, in the epicenter of this brutal winter—your first one together—you least expect a shirt to be shredded from your torso in one, hungry rip, tossed like ribbons on the floor and abandoned as you licked the nectary words dripping off her tongue. “wanna have a fuckin' baby with you.. ahah—shit, can i give you one?” she stumbled in giggles, so sweetly, and fumbled so pitifully with the rest of your clothes, you had to assist before something else was torn.

yeah, she can wear you out giving you 'one' any fuckin' day.

“miss me?” ellie clings, with nails that long to be sharp, into the small of your back. deep enough to bleed. it stung with a soft whimper inside your chest, “mhh—yes, ellie.” teeth collecting the sighed words from your lower lip.

she would rub her pussy against yours until it was throbbing raw, and her hips gave out. it did most times; from the wanton, the sheer letch to let loose, to give you something special—but if you whispered into a safekeeping, it would be about how she lets her hormones get the best of her. more so when your touch is involved. when your tired fingers trace the bushed mess that leads up her stomach in a thin, waning tornado-line, wrap your hand around and soothe her pelvis with pressure—she loses it.

“can't handle it at all, huh?” you pant, smiling at the fucked-out, glistening and red look on her face. her scarred brows tighten when your sticky thighs come into contact with an audible slap. it's her juices that coat you. “poor thing.”

ellie cups her own tit and rolls deeper into her straddle, you're not even sure she heard you; too lost in that midnight realm. but, if you're being honest, you're the one that can't handle it. human endurance has you beat for miles—she has to place your limp leg on her shoulder. “f-fuck..” she trembles. soon enough, the hairs covering her cunt are shining wet with her cum, and she can only hope that it takes. “thats it.. oh my god..” she leans into her nape, voice vibrating deep and hoarse in her chest. she looked like golden heaven, with her head hanging like that. though, her stamina will be the death of you: she lifts her head and starts hovering over you for more, hot breaths that felt cold in your used state fanning over your cheek. “gonna be a goddamn mama, babe. got more in me—if ya' wanna go again, hm?”

[luminatricky]

Vampire? In Gotham! (part 1)

Summary: Danny's 19, a prince, a halfa, and tired of being these things. So he jumps on the idea of a vacation as soon he's given the hint of a chance. The only caveat is that he's going to go undercover as a vampire in a big city - Gotham - far from his home dimension. He finds it's easier than he thought it would be. He's already mostly there.

Relationships: Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton), John Constantine & Danny Fenton

Um? Inspired by several prompts and other fanfics. Lost Between Our Needs and Wants AU definitely, with a background Danny's summoned by Ra's as Damian as a sacrifice. Nothing bad happens (to Damian) don't worry. Also, the one in which Danny decided to fight ghosts as a human too.

And John is almost definitely ooc, he's a character I enjoy a lot even though I don't have a firm grasp of his canon.

Danny's afterlife has been way too interesting for way too long. It's gotten to the point that when things suddenly go quiet for months, he hardly hesitates to give his "human" life some over-due attention.

For obvious reasons he's not going to try his "vacation" in his own dimension. Anyone he once might have stayed for know how to get a hold of him, whenever and wherever.

The Amity Park portal is still open. But between the stricter laws on ghosts wanting to use permanent portals he managed to get passed, and the increasingly feral ways the townsfolk have begun defending each other with, Danny feels confident to finally...let go. In his heart, he had always thought of it as still his, despite not being there to maintain it in truth. But now it's not his Haunt anymore, fully and completely.

They don't need him anymore.

And Danny doesn't want to be needed like that again, to be honest. He sacrificed so much to play hero because he got it into his head that he had to do everything alone in the end. As if he was the only one who could kick ghost butt on the daily in town.

Thankfully, a nineteen year old Danny is smarter than a fourteen year old Danny. He's learned the art of delegation. Any tasks that he doesn't need to be present for, he has a whole team of ghostly assistants to handle things for him. The major multidimensional crises have for the most part been solved - his protection Obsession at the very least fed. And quite a few skeleton thralls he freed near the beginning of his reign were suddenly looking for direction. Among them, a decent amount found the talent and fulfillment in positions of bureaucratic power that Danny never will, filling up spots he's unwilling to give out like the candy the various ghosts of nobility treat the roles as. Or ghost nobility. Like the Ancients. Quite a few of the Ancients are assholes.

(At least all the murderous Ancients aren't problems anymore)

With all their help, he's able to occasionally pop in to do paperwork, meet with the High Court for various lawmaking and judicial decisions, and listening to official petitions to the Crown from his people. It's all good. No mountains of unseen paperwork, no audience with the Observants every waking moment, no one across the Realms screaming desperately for help. Even some of the cults have finally caught on that he's not Pariah!

So Danny starts the process of finding a new Haunt for his new, normal, alive alter ego. Staying as long as he has in the Realms couldn't have been sustainable long-term if he didn't want to become a full ghost. As complicated as his relationship with his humanity is these days, he still doesn't want to die again. And Frostbite definitely has been pushing him to finding new territory, in the Infinite Realms or otherwise. Because even for full ghosts going Hauntless for long periods is straining. To say the least.

Although, being just a human again...didn't sit right. Even after all this time. His human form is still one Danny Fenton, in his eyes.

He can never be Danny Fenton again. He accepted that his duties as Crown Prince would keep him away from the identity of the ghost hunter's ghost hunting son, who went to Casper high and had terrible grades in everything but science; the kid who was shoved into lockers and who was addicted to Nasty Burger and played DOOMED with his friends and who wanted to be an astronaut. He accepted that he had to leave that all behind, and be full ghost in all but form. His parents wouldn't want him if they knew everything he lied about, anyways. He didn't actually deserve the name Fenton.

His new Haunt would preferably be in a place where he could reasonably pass himself off as another species, then, and still be safe. Safer than being a ghost at least. Most universes had well-deserved folklore against the Realms. His people are not inherently malevolent...But he knows that they don't play nice and careful with the living.

He would need an ectoplasm rich environment, too. A big city with lots of crime would go a long way for providing the ambient death and fear vibes that would attract Blobs like a bee to nectar. It would also make it feel like the Infinite Realms - hopefully. He's gotten accustomed to that kind of environment. He thinks he may never sleep again in a place quiet and safe.

He'd like a place with a rich history too. Just for fun!

Danny mulls it over carefully, narrowing down universes he could reasonably start his search in. The only universe he can think of with extensive protections for the non-human written into law is one far-flung flavor of an Earth he's semi-familiar with. He's been there twice, both at 16, just starting out and stressed to hell and back with the sheer load of unattended problems Pariah left to rot.

Both times he'd been more than he'd have liked. One Ra's Al Ghul wasn't technically his problem. He was no one's problem now, and that was current Danny's whole issue with it.

John Constantine is an unlamented saint for putting up with a feral teenaged Danny's slap dash attempt at helping the both of them - John with his soul related doom, and Danny with his paperwork related misery.

But. Considering how he handled the contract with Al Ghul, Danny can't blame John for hesitating to renegotiate their terms already. Ra's Al Ghul was an idiot who gave him what he thought was the life of his grandson, in exchange for immortality.

Him. The Prince of the Dead. Immortality.

Thankfully, the wording was imprecise. What he actually traded was the kid's really cool sword - the kid kneeling, terrified eyes meeting his before darting away, offering his own sword to let Danny slit his throat and "collect his due sacrifice", Danny not being able to breathe through his own fear - for pure ectoplasm, with instruction to drink it everyday until he ran out.

This of course killed even him months later from over-exposure.

The man probably felt a mile high in the air, indestructible, right up until he crashed. Al Ghul promptly became a ghost. Which. Closest thing to true immortality the Prince of the Dead could offer him. He kept his end of the deal. It's not his fault that Al Ghul never specified that he didn't want to die to be immortal. It's also not his fault that Al Ghul had so many dead enemies and victims on the other side who were easy to find. It was ridiculously easy - they made a support group around being taken down by the LOA. And who was he to deny the dead their due vengeance?

Right. So John is understandably nervous about Danny owning all the pieces of his soul, no matter how much rapport they've built these past three years. Danny is mature enough to admit that it is his fault for that bit.

On the bright side for Danny, that means one grumpy occult detective in a sad trenchcoat is a guy who lives in his phone. Like an uncle-shaped tamagachi!

He scrolls though his contact list until he thumbs John's number. Surprisingly, instead of going to voicemail, he picks up on the first ring.

"Before you ask, yes I'm cashing in a favor, finally. No, it's nothing evil, I've just got the first actual free time I've had in five years and I'd like to get suggestions on a city to move to."

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

John ended up giving a very detailed list in response. Suspiciously detailed, and hardly prompted. How long had John been thinking on this? And why?

Danny chalked it up to the man's reasonable paranoia when it came to him. John's aware he can pretend to be (fully) human with relative ease, afterall. And the older man knows where he'd need to be able to actually live long term. After-live. Whatever. Point is, John probably made it his business to know where any sneaky invasions would start if Danny ever became a little less morally ambiguous and a little more bloodthirsty.

Entirely fair! Pariah wasn't always a tyrant!

On the very top was Gotham, a city in this world's Jersey, and the crime capitol of the States. Plenty of ambient ectoplasm, and planty of charged emotions wafting from every street corner. He doesn't voice this, but Danny figures that there must be a whole community of ghosts already living there because of that double whammy.

Something about the city's name tickles his memory, but can't quite pin it down. If it was important he'd have remembered. Right?

John is thrown when he asks about his options of other non-humans Danny could reasonably get away with impersonating.

"And why," the occultist half-accuses, "would you of all spooks, want to live in Gotham, as a 'vacation', just to not even pretend to be normal?"

"First of all, ow. John you know just because someone is different doesn't mean they're not normal. I thought you were the cool uncle." He responds half-heartedly. Danny bites his bottom lip, rolling it between his sharp teeth as he tries to think of a part two to that answer that wouldn't get uncomfortably personal.

John doesn't rise to his bait. Danny hears him unscrew something metallic, then the sound of fluid swishing quietly from the other end. Ah.

The silence wears on. Danny should hang up. But winging things have always gotten him into bigger trouble. And John is the guy to call for this. Fuck. And he's bad at lying bold-faced.

Fine.

"I'm half human," Danny responds as if that would explain everything. It doesn't, so he manages to continue in a small voice that he doesn't even remember the last time he'd used. "Sometimes I still pretend to be one when I can't see any other way. But I had my chance at playing the part of both. And I royally screwed it up, literally! I became freaking royalty and I just couldn't anymore. As far as anyone but my doctor is concerned, I'm full ghost. I had a chance - I don't deserve another one. Screw ups don't get nice things."

John takes another swig from his flask, mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like 'of course he's a fecking halfa'. His voice is rough around the edges from whatever cheap booze he just drank a concerning amount of.

"Listen. Sounds like you've got trauma dripping from your ears, kid. But what's the point here, huh? Sounds like you want to be human without all the fuss of it." John drawls out.

Danny takes a deep breath in through his nose. He tries to fight down the feeling of being peeled open for the world to see - being afraid isn't helpful right now. He needs to be silly, nonchalant, like he's always been with John in tense situations. Why do they only talk when things are tense, anyways?

"Essentially. It's more like. I want to have all the human experiences I missed out on, but without having to hide being inhuman. That kinda thing."

"And you can't just be a ghost?"

"I really don't think anyone likes being ghosted."

"Don't you start on that. You know what I mean, Princeling."

"Fine. No, I can't be a ghost. That's boring and no one likes being haunted."

John gives a long sigh. After a beat, he acquiesces. "Alright. You could pull off vamps damn well. Got the hair for 'em. The teeth and claws are only slightly off. There's several clans with different looks the same way humans have ethnicities. Although, I don't think that's the same, now that I'm thinking about it. But subspecies doesn't fit either."

Danny hums, tilting his head in thought. "Like the difference between a banshee and a specter?"

"Yeah, like that. All vamps, just different enough, and no kind older than another to say they're the 'main' species." John clarifies. Another pause. "Unless you count Halfas. Which. Some people do but shouldn't. Bloody idiots."

Danny startles, nearly dropping his phone. "Excuse me?"

John snorts. "What? You didn't know?"

"Musta missed that part in the complimentary instruction manual they gave me for having my molecules redecorated." He snarks. "What do you mean I'm already a vampire?"

"I said people who don't know what they're talking about count Halfas as the original vampires. You lot have been around since the bloody dawn of time, it seems." John sounds exasperated.

"That's not what I - never have I ever wanted to take a chomp on anyone's pulse point, what the fuck?"

John gets that smug tone in his voice that Danny has a love-hate relationship with. "And exactly how many undead folks do you hang out with when you're feeling peckish?"

"...you can't be serious." Danny says instead of denying him. What can he even say to that? He's never met a Revenant or Ghoul.

"As the grave, I'm afraid."

When Danny doesn't outwardly respond for too many beats, John takes another chug. "Phantom?"

"John." He begins, pinching the bridge of his nose as more and more dots connect too cleanly for him. "You might be wrong."

"...What awful lore about your eldritch homeland is going to send me into my weekly crisis this time?" The detective groans out.

"Alright. So you know how part of my whole thing as the Prince makes it my job to stay aware of ectoplasmic diseases?"

John hums in acknowledgement, so Danny sucks in a deep breath. "Then you should know two things. One, that I've been to a few dimensions with vampires in them. And like you said, they're all different from each other. I didn't really pay much attention beyond helping the people survive these world-ending scenarios though.

Two, is that in each and every one of those realities, the vampirism was caused by a virus made by an Ancient - don't worry, they're gone. The disease itself is called False Halfa Syndrome. It was their attempt to weaponize Halfas back in Pariah's time."

"Oh shite." John says elegantly. "Bag o' shite!"

"Good luck on that crisis. Me too." Danny is hardly holding in hysterical laughter. "I can't believe Sam and Tucker were right about this. Holy shit."

"How in the world didn't you piece this together until now?!"

"I don't know! I just thought it was coincidence!"

"Bloody fucking hell, Phantom. Nevermind. You can play a vampire totally accurately because you are one. A ghost one." John growls. "Cause that just had to be a thing."

Danny carefully doesn't think about how Vlad might have legitimate claim to that vampiric aesthetic he's got going on. Instead, he's planning on stealing an aesthetic change for his own ruse.

"Nice. Should I know anything else while we're here?" He asks.

John gave a wry laugh, crackling over the phone's shitty old speakers. "About Gotham or your new undead existence?"

"Both." He says instantly. "Both is good."

"Gotham has vigilantes. The birds and bats are efficient, and they spook easy at unknowns. Batman's technically my coworker if we're gonna call the Justice League a job - we don't get paid for this. He and his family deal with the craziest lineup of human rogues I've ever had the displeasure. It's made him a healthy amount of paranoid. If you're doing anything nefarious, he'll find you. And then he'll call me."

Danny isn't exactly afraid of John. But Pariah wasn't afraid of Danny, either, so the halfa takes it seriously. Internally.

"Yeah yeah old man. You've got your eye on me and all that. Uh huh." He genuinely appreciates the warning, too, but messing with John is his bread and butter.

"Watch it, brat," John says with no real venom, unlike a moment ago. "Or I'll bring out the stakes."

"I take mine medium rare, thank you."

"Piss off."

"...About the vampirism?"

"Normal ghost bullshite applies. It's about the ecto, I think. You go absolutely nutters for the stuff in undead folk. Something about how ectoplasm interacts with the reanimated. Liminals are nutritious too, but I've been told it's the difference between cafeteria food and gourmet. One smells absolutely heavenly, the other is barely appetizing."

Oh Ancients is that why all his exes are Liminal? No, hold on, was part of the reason Vlad was so weird about him just ghost-vamp on ghost-vamp mutual hanger?

"What, I'm not the only Halfa in your life? John. I thought we had something special."

"Please don't make this weird. Do not flirt with me." John instantly scolds. "I know you're just being your little weird brand of playful, but I knew you when you were a kid shaped menace. C'mon."

Danny blinks. He didn't think he was flirting, but apparently he was. "Alright. Sorry, John."

There's a sudden crash on the other side of the phone. Followed by John's muffled cursing.

"Listen, I have to go. If you're serious about this I'll get you some good fakes. Text me with what you'd like your name to be." And then John hangs up. Danny smiles into the lingering silence.

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

PhantomMenace: Dante Nightingale, pwetty please 0w0

God's Favorite Whore: That's the most main character name I've ever bloody seen.

God's Favorite Whore: You're from a dead family in Illinois, farm boy, meta. Had an accident at 14, with a near death experience for believability. You've also been missing since shortly after it. Anyone looking into you will think that's when you got "turned."

PhantomMenace: thats why your the cool uncle <3

God's Favorite Whore: This should count as another favor, don't you think?

PhantomMenace: Yup. I'll be nice

PhantomMenace: 💚 ~2/20 Favors until Soul Return~ 💚

[sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame]

*Angrily looks around* ok so we're not writing more werewolf Valeria???? Fucking fine I'll do it myself

En Sus Marcus Part 1/?

Part 2

Summary: Valeria hunts you through the woods, fucks the shit out of you. Congratulations you won and you're her pet housewife now <3

2nd person omniscient, black reader, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, no actual smut in this chapter but still sexy as fuck, kinda dubcon, but reader's DEF into it, bimbo reader, reader's dumb as shit y'all. That being said I could see myself doing similar, dom Valeria, sub reader, predator/prey dynamic, fucky and inaccurate Spanish (corrections greatly appreciated)

This is self indulgent trash and I the humble outdoor cat feasting on the week old chicken wings inside it.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

It was stupid to be out in the forest this late, you knew how stupid it was to be in the forest this late.

You'd been so exhausted, your boss had worked you to the bone for the last three fucking years and still had the nerve to complain when you used your pto for a single week off to enjoy Halloween—your least busy week of the year—by yourself in a cozy little cabin in the woods.

But you were stupid. So stupid. And so scared. Your first day in you nearly gave yourself carbon monoxide poisoning when you forgot to open the fireplace hatch. Your second day you'd left the gas on for an hour and set the smoke alarm off for the second time in three days, and now, your third day in, you saw what looked like a limping dog outside, in the pitch black darkness and your dumbass decided to follow it?

You were cursing yourself out the entire time. Horror movie rule number one was without fail, the black guy dies first. And here you were waltzing into the woods after a random animal that you full well could've hallucinated.

But you didn't. You know you didn't. And while that dog was huge, if it was willing to come that close to the house it had to have been someone's pet. Even if it was a wolf dog or something it was obvious it had been abandoned. You weren't a vet, but it seemed way too alert and aware of how you stood by the door. You'd seen YouTube videos of how animals with rabies acted. They were haunting, but the dog didn't move like that. Aside from a slight limp its head still darted towards you when it spotted you looking out the giant glass door into the backyard. It heard you calling after it, its tongue lolled out of its mouth for godsake.

You couldn't explain why or how, and you hoped it wouldn't attack you because explaining why you left the house to medical professionals would make you feel like the biggest wet noodle known to man, but it looked like it wanted you to come closer. So you did.

Hesitantly.

You walked towards it slowly, making sure to avoid eye contact and making yourself look too big or too small, trying to remember the "if it's black fight back, if it's brown get down" rule and whether or not that only applied to bears. You managed to close enough distance between the two of you that you could shine your phone's weak flashlight on the creature to check if there was any blood on it.

Thankfully there wasn't, not so thankfully it got up, and calmly walked further into the woods, turning its head back every few steps to stare at you pathetically.

At this point, maybe if you hadn't finished half a bottle of pink moscato and weren't a little tipsy, you would've recognized that it was probably just politely asking you to back off. In the way an animal does when it does not want to fight. But sadly, you had. And the wolf wasn't staring at you like that. It was staring at you like how dogs stare at people in those probably faked rescue videos where they lead the cameraman to a den full of newborn puppies.

You didn't know what was wrong with this animal but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you didn't make sure. And you didn't know that there were multiple hotlines in the area you could call instead of risking both of your lives.

It kept looking back at you, tail flat on its back, ears pinned back, what could only be considered a giant dopey looking smile on its face as you trailed behind it for long enough that your feet started to hurt despite the hiking boots you'd thrown on before leaving the house.

You were freezing sadly because it was the least practical element of your outfit.

You were in a lacy pink silk nightie that stopped just at your thigh. Those thick brown thighs jiggling a little with each step. If you'd bent over, the wolf could've gotten a nice and pleasant view of your pussy peaking out from underneath the fabric cause you never went to bed with panties on. You could've run to pick some up but you didn't want to chance that the animal would be gona by the time you got back with no proof of if it even existed.

Your phone battery was low. Not dangerously so, but enough that it made you really stupid for going out without your little pink portable charger.

But it was such a stupid spontaneous decision. One you'd spend the rest of your life paying for.

You froze when the wolf darted out of sight suddenly. So fast you didn't have time to point your light towards the direction it ran, it was gone before your eyes had caught up to your ears and processed the few rustling of leaves in the distance.

And now you were painfully aware of the fact that you were alone in the woods. And you had no idea how far you'd gone off the path. And that even if it had stayed, the injured animal probably couldn't offer you much help against a bear, or worse, a man with a gun.

You started shivering, the crisp fall air was delightful in the early mornings, but it had gotten dark that day at 5pm and it was in the high forties now. You weren't even wearing a little sweater to keep your arms warm.

Valeria saw this.

She hadn't actually been injured. She wasn't even limping believe it or not, you just weren't wearing your glasses and couldn't tell that she was walking normally. Let alone that she was much much bigger than a wolf dog.

You smelled divine with your pumpkin spice body oil and the cheap wine clinging to your lips.

Valeria was here for fun too. She owned these woods. And everything in them. She was stunned that you hadn't noticed how deadly silent your romantic evening walk had been. There were so many signs this was a trap.

It wasn't at first, of course. She rented the cabin out. She liked to see who stayed in her home away from home when she wasn't there. What they smelled like. Tasted like. If they looked fun to hunt. But then there you were. Standing outside in your pretty pink dress, her favorite color glowing against your skin and making you look like a goddess underneath the light of the moon. Normally she'd have left you alone. She'd always had a soft spot for pretty girls. But you looked and smelled so divine she just had to get closer. And closer. And closer.

She realized you'd spotted her the moment she realized you were her mate.

She could've shat herself she was so scared. The elation from finding her mate and complete dread at the fact that you were so gullible consumed her with every step you took further into the forest.

She'd have to teach you a lesson.

With all the spoiling she was gonna do to you, you'd probably get bratty. She'd have to teach you many more. She wasn't complaining.

But for now, you needed to learn why you don't follow strange animals into the woods.

And you needed to learn that you were hers. Quickly.

You looked around erratically. On the verge of tears. She could hear your little heartbeat racing.

That's when she decided to shift back.

"Excuse me, are you alright?" She nearly convinced herself she meant it.

You jolted around and immediately started bawling. She wrapped her arms around you, pressing you to her bare chest.

"Hey, it's alright. Can you tell me what happened, princesa?

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've just been so stressed at work and there was this dog—I think it was a wolf dog, and she's hurt and she's definitely someone's pet and she looked like she was leading me to her puppies and I got worried cause if she was willing to lead me there, that means she'd be willing to lead someone dangerous there, so I followed her and we went too deep into the woods and I'm on vacation, I don't know these woods, I'm from L.A.!"

She nodded along, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Pobrecita. You just need someone to protect you, huh?"

You froze. Suddenly and painfully aware of the fact that your head was pressed directly into the bare tits of another woman. You were far from displeased and it wasn't the first time, but still, why in the flying fuck would there be a woman in the woods even more naked than you were?

"Um, ma'am, why are you naked?"

She tossed her head back laughing.

"Ay, que rico, la niña que no lleva nada más que su lencería quiere saber por qué estoy desnuda."

You were kicking yourself mentally at the fact that you hadn't been more serious about learning Spanish all these years. That little green owl was going to kill you if this weird ass woman didn't do the job for him.

"I'm sorry?" Was all you said instead, trying to make your way out of her embrace.

It didn't work. She did let you wiggle around enough that you could crane your neck to look up at her, however, and by god were you grateful. Big pretty brown eyes, hair the perfect length to tug on while she ate you out, an aquiline nose. And the most beautiful, wolfish smile you could ever imagine.

She was the kind of woman that'd make you leave a cafe to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of her.

You immediately felt guilty for sexualizing her despite the fact that she was naked and had pressed your face into her tits two seconds ago.

"Shit, you're not doing so hot either, huh? Do you wanna go back to where I'm staying and get some hot chocolate, maybe a shower? Alone! Of course! I can call anyone if you need help too! Oh wait I forgot I had my phone! I can just call the sheriff or something—" she grabbed your phone out of your hands and threw it off into the woods.

You were silent for an embarrassingly long time.

"What the fuck dude." You said it so quietly and calmly Valeria couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry. I'll remember where it went in the morning."

You tried with a lot more fervor to put yourself far out of arms reach from the woman, failing every time. She didn't even have to exert a large amount of strength to pin you to her. You didn't let it stop you, but you knew, you wouldn't be moving unless she let you.

She let her long, sharp—sharper than they should be, you had a fresh set of stilettos, they were not that sharp—nails graze your skin just slightly. A warning. You weren't dumb enough to miss that.

"Stop. Moving." Something was wrong. She growled at you. You'd been growled at before in bed by exes, they didn't sound like that. She sounded like she was barely able to form the words. Like she was twisting her vocal cords around to make sense of the random sounds and syncopations that just so happened to make your little pussy drool.

"Here's what's going to happen, princesa. I'm going to give you..." she leaned in to sniff at your bonnet, shivering and pressing her mouth to your forehead, letting out a moan as her hand snaked down your waist to rub at your ass, just above where your nightgown had already ridden up more than dangerously high. "Ten seconds."

"...Ten seconds to what?"

You could feel her grin grow unnaturally wide against you.

"To run."

This time you shivered. This poor woman was crazy and in need of help and here you were getting off on her delusions. What a creep.

"And then when I catch you, I'm going to breed that wet little pussy. I'm going to take you home. And I'm going to fill you up some more, sólo para asegurarme de que funciona."

You were having a hard time breathing. Her voice was so low and even. Her fingers danced at the hem of your dress and as awful as it was you didn't even want to run. You wanted her to snake her fingers just a bit lower and breed you here. You needed her fingers, her cock, her mouth, whatever she'd give you. You could feel your own cum pooling down your thighs which had literally never happened to you before. She was causing chemical reactions in your body you weren't sure had been previously seen within the human race.

She huffed, smiling a bit.

"Oh! Someone's excited."

You whimpered a bit, at the sensation of her claws digging into the fat of your ass.

"Let's get something straight, princesa. If you don't run properly," she pressed you even closer to her, "if you don't make the chase fun," she trailed her nose down the side of your face, pressing you impossibly close. Her grip so tight it was starting to actually hurt, "then I'll kill you."

You laughed a little bit, or tried to. Wheezed would be more accurate.

"Oh, I'm not kidding. Tengo que demostrar que serás una buena compañera, nena. Que te aseguraras de que tus hijas sean fuertes."

Valeria was of course, lying. But you didn't know that. You didn't know that she'd make sure your kids would grow up nice and strong and much much smarter than their ditsy mother was the day they first met.

"You ready, coñejita?" Her grip loosened slightly, and you immediately took your chance to bite her on the neck. Hard. Hoping she'd let go completely and you'd be able to run back to your cabin and use the ancient house phone before she cut the lines or something.

She didn't though, she just frowned. But you could see the edges of her lips fighting to twitch up into her normal Cheshire grin.

"I didn't say it was time to start running, coñejita."

She grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to the side, trailing her sharp teeth down your neck. You felt like they were cutting skin but her hot breath soothed the ache the second it started.

"En su marca."

She grabbed your ass so hard you could feel the chill night air on your dripping cunt.

"Lista."

She pressed a kiss to your neck with a gentleness you wouldn't have guessed she'd be capable of.

"Fuera."

You knew what it meant but she still didn't let go. She wanted you to feel it through your body when the chase had really begun.

She whispered into you ear, teasingly. Joyfully. An excited impatience emanating from her voice.

"Run."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 305

So. Uh. Danny feels like laughing hysterically, because? Ghostwriter was doing a thing, and one of Pandora’s curses escaped and erm, well, now the six of them are in a whole other dimension. At least this place has a lot of abandoned warehouses but still. And well, he guesses he’s no longer the only ‘monster’ now? 

But seriously they all need to find a way back home sooner rather than later, even if they might now be stuck in this world… Fuck.

[mystellenia]

come breed me

werewolf!ellie would be so possessive but in an insecure way. she'd catch someone lustfully staring at you and quickly pull you into a kiss with a slight growl. "you're mine, right? tell me that you're mine." you think she's just doing it to be possessive, and she is, but she also needs to hear you say it to control her overthinking thoughts. i cant imagine werewolf!ellie being dominant, she's definitely a submissive. her breeding kink would be her biggest kink. she whines and cries when you fuck her with a cumfilled strap, trying to convince you that it's being wasted on her and she's gotta breed you. "oh- fuck, babe, please. i gotta breed you. lemme up, please." it’s so pathetically cute watching her struggle. she’s so hyper after sex, basically bouncing off the walls with energy. she gnaws and licks at your skin whilst she waits for your energy to come back. she’s a hairy baby. she doesn’t shave or wax and because she’s a werewolf, she has wayy more hair than a human.

@mystellenia

[aouiaa]

What if.. Dina + Werewolf reader

Maybe R is very secretive about it at first, nobody knows at all, they go about business as usual other than maybe disappearing every full moon. R is just pretty strong and fast and they can just write that off as being athletic or something

Dina could possibly find out when Dina and R are on patrol and they get ambushed by a bunch of raiders, then R is forced to transform into the big werewolf form in a last ditch effort to protect Dina?

Live Laugh Love Dina Nolastname..

❝ under blue moon ❞ — 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 !

warnings and disclaimers, established wlw relationship (not implicated), half werewolf/human!reader, reader has long hair, human!dina, cursing, angst with comfort, self-deprecation, sequences of violence, deaths, descriptions of wounds, mentions of blood.

TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, “we love you dina” we all say in unison.

like the repetitive tap of a foot, you were restless. plagued with conflicting emotions that a slip-up at any given moment could alter the course of history, a beloved one with many. every howl under a night sky, a display of unwavering loyalty, ignites a sense of profound shame within you. perhaps this constant state of self-deprecation and guilt stems from a deep-seated selfish desire to release, to finally be who you were meant to be, not forced.

from the unyielding itch to molting, you didn't wish to frighten or harm anyone, but sometimes it was necessary. a sharp whistle pierced the tranquil expanse of lush forests you patrolled alongside dina, morphing into a fierce war cry. your primary concern was preventing any harm from befalling your companion. the attack materialized so abruptly that it seemed almost surreal. the scathing slash struck swiftly, leaving a searing wound in its wake.

in your perception, the situation was akin to clinging to a rope for dear life, so tightly that it sliced through your skin, leaving behind scars begging to be licked clean. the rope itself was not robust, hanging by an exceedingly fragile thread. every action demanding meticulous movement, for a single misstep could spell doom.

the same doom that loomed over your relationships, uncertain if they could ever be salvaged. the relentless onslaught came fast, and just as quickly, the man perched atop you pinned you down, leaving you battered and close to your final breath. in that critical moment, you gazed over to your right, desperately seeking an escape. there, you saw dina, her life slipping away as she was being strangled. amidst the chaos, a profound realization washed over you. it’s clear like any human, they have a breaking point, and being half-human, you certainly experienced those moments of revelations too, just like you were destined to now.

at first, you felt a disconnect, as if the world had shifted into a hazy fog. then, through the blur, a trembling, bloodied figure came into focus. she looked up at you, her eyes wide with fear, as if you were some malevolent entity. the truth was, you were, yet not a monster in the conventional sense.

driven by primitive instinct, you lashed out at her and fled through the dense forest, putting distance between yourself and the once battlefield. with your heart pounding furiously, the stinging sensation of tears threatened to fall, it all felt useless, as if your efforts amounted to nothing. you were nothing, but a failure. now, certainly, you were gonna be alone. wearied, you gently placed the terrified girl on a patch of clear ground before collapsing at her feet, utterly spent.

as if in a scene from a film, a brilliant aura enveloped you, gently shrinking your form until you were your true self once more, but—were you ever truly your “true self” to begin with? your tresses fell like a curtain, shielding your face, almost as if they spoke on your behalf. shame cloaked you, fearing what the other might think, but realization sunk in: you couldn’t hide any longer, not anymore. you gathered the courage and swept your hair behind your ear.

inches from your visage was the face you dreaded, one that could turn away and call out wolf— literally. you stared up at her, tears streaming down your face. You weren't physically harmed, yet sobs continued to spill from your lips.

your voice quivered as you choked out, "i can't... i won't hurt you." you attempted to sit up, but to your dismay, she moved back, the small distance feeling like a chasm between you. it was as if the whole world had been turned upside down—your feet no longer firmly planted on the ground.

it might be for the best that everything unfolded this way, as deep down, you had no real grasp of whether you were truly domesticated. just like animals with their innermost instincts, there was a chance that an unexpected trigger could send you into a tailspin. with tears streaming down your face, you tearfully admitted, "i’m a monster." slowly, you began to rise to your feet.

“hey, hey,” her hands, gentle and soothing, came to rest on your tear-stained cheek to stop you, redirecting your gaze to meet hers. she softly reassured you, “you’re far from that.” like a mother calming a distressed child, she stroked your skin tenderly with her thumb.

“but you look at me like i am.” you murmured.

she huffed, clearly at a loss for words, “i—what is there to say to this?” her smile held a hint of resignation as she continued, “sure, you're a bit on the hairy side, but you did get us out of a hairy situation.” a pitiful attempt to lift the mood with a lighthearted remark in a tense situation wasn't so easily dispersed. unmoved by her attempt at humor, you offered her a cold shoulder, extinguishing the fragile flicker of light that had briefly appeared.

she notices your expression and sighs, momentarily resting her forehead against yours. as she inadvertently glances downward, the change in her expression prompts you to follow suit.

immediate embarrassment flooded you as you swiftly move to cover your private areas, your face beet red. "oh shit." you muttered, realizing you had forgotten a crucial detail.

her infectious laughter sliced through the tension in the room— or rather forest. with a toothy grin, she took off her jacket and draped it over your shoulders, quipping, “there you go, you wild animal."

"hey!" you pouting in response.

request are open, don’t be shy! :3

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru, @drunkonnatasha, @leosw0rld, @visupremacysstuff

[!] — IF BY CHANCE YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT, look at this for more info!

[monstercampus]

Which wolves like a fiesty human and which orefer a more submissive? Who's got the biggest dominance kink/problem??

HEH.

(cws: mild lewd, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, knots)

Hate to say it but Athos loooooooves a fiesty little brat. He's so sweet on you you'd think he's just the gentlest, most darling wolf to bed--aside from Elliott and Ollie, probably--but those fangs will snap as soon as the attitude comes out. He hates how much he likes it and how he likes it, but it's in his blood, so how much can he really help it?

He likes the fight for dominance, the moments where you're first entangled with each other, when it comes to deciding who is going to stake their claim over the other--he wants to make you regret all that biting and wriggling as you try to break his grip, wants to watch that snarky smirk melt as he pushes you down on his knot. You think this is humiliating? You just wait and see what happens when he turns. Bigger knot, sharper claws, and droolier fangs to sink into the nape of your neck; you'll break if he wants you to break, and when he mounts you you'll know for sure there's no escaping a good, hard breeding from him. Sometimes he'll hit you with that plap, plap, plap of his knot driving into you, while both of those massive hands just hold down your head and grip your hair as he stretches you out on his cock. You can earn his mercy if you try--but you're gonna have to try reeeeallly hard to make him proud of you again, pup.

On the flipside, Portia's one to just adore a submissive partner. He likes fiestier ones for sure, but there's something about the implicit, loving trust and sweetness of a doe-eyed little human that really gets him dialed all the way up. If you can loop your arms around his neck and cling to him while he touches you it's even better. Even if it's just playing pretend and you aren't usually that way, he really likes the feeling of acting like you need to be taken care of--it scratches an itch in the core of his self, it makes him preen at the idea of giving you all that you ask for because you trust that he can provide. He's a giver, what can he say? He likes to be needed.

The rest of the wolves are largely on the sliding scale between those extremes. Ollie likes to be praised and Nick's more on the daddy-ish dom side than the aggressive brat tamer that Athos can be. Kirk is similar to Portia in the sense that he also really needs to be needed, but he also likes flipping that into a dominant role. Julian really just likes to please and will use overstimulation as his tool to dominate you. And Elliott is more of a switch that likes to be submissive on occasion, so when he's dominant he's not usually too aggressive about it. Priam is...well, he's kind of an anomaly. Mostly a big wolfy teddy bear, but there are times when, under the right circumstances, he just goes...feral. So he can kinda flip the switch between ultra aggressive/possession to super gentle and sweet.

[mozomz]

My webcomic, Ellie the Vampire is coming back from hiatus October 20th to Webtoon Canvas!!

I would really appreciate it if you could check it out 👉👈

[jazzyvlogs]

HEALING PAD HERE!!

[kaosketches]

The wolf and the witch.

Late Halloween pic :)

[puhpandas]

beckory werewolf au on the brain

[astralnymphh]

werewolf!ellie who generally no GENUINRLY just acts like a dog when you two cuddle. can we discuss this. ignoring the fact that i'm tiptoeing into 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 territory(ellie likes peeing on. That) can we just have some funsies and say she growls/purrs in her asleep/half-asleep stage forgetting that she's not actually in her wolf form. not genuine portrayals of the sounds wolves make but human equivalents. swiping at her face, ears twitching slightly, moseying on top of you, always collapsed in on herself, maybe even alternating little spoon big spoon w you, licking youHuhh WHO SAID THAT! but back onto the sounds, i think it could be more like low mumbles and groans. it's either the sweetest thing ever like your name over and over (abby.. abby, abby reference) or her silly comfortability with aggression “you're gonna die... m'gonna eat you up, omnomnnom.” okay citizens of tloutopia are we rocking with this or should i just die and never write a oneshot about werewolf!ellie that i mysteriously already have a draft for

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

season of the witch - j. miller

a/n: first joel fic! got super into this one, and it's super long. uhhhh hope you enjoy and happy october! also want to give a huge shoutout to @luveline for her au writing and her luna lovegood!reader which was a huge inspiration to this fic. love you jade!! warnings: spooky themes, kissing, mentions of yearning, don't think too deeply about the dialogue sometimes i kind of hate this ok, ellie and reader being best friends, dana struggling, like kind of horror stuff, some angst, burns, mentions of murder word count: 5.1k summary: you've lived in the small town of everbrook for a while now, and you thought nothing could shock you anymore. you're wrong. paring: monsterhunter!joel x witch!reader now playing: season of the witch - donavan "you've got to pick up every stich/oh no, must be the season of the witch"

Ever since you moved to Everbrook, you could tell everyone around you thought of you as odd. You were twenty-two, what were you doing living in a small old cabin outside of town? Didn’t you want to go to parties, do drugs, whatever it was that kids did these days?

Maybe that’s why you loved Everbrook, it felt like time had stood still even now, years after you had visited as a small child. There was something charming about it, as if you had stepped into a fairytale. Only fairytales had less gossip than Everbrook did.

You had frequented Everbrook every Halloween as a kid. Your grandmother had lived in your cabin once, and much like you, she had a house and a mind full of secrets and spells. Your grandfather died before you were born, and that was when your grandmother hauled all her things to buy this cozy nook of Everbrook.

And every Halloween, she would whisk you and your siblings away to celebrate. The town loved Halloween and was known for its fairs and parades. And it’s dark corners.

To tourists, just like you were as a kid, whispers of vampires, ghosts and witches were just silly ways to get them to buy merchandise.

But your grandmother swore by these stories, telling you to be careful of how you spoke ill of the supernatural. And it was only on your fourteenth birthday did you truly find out why.

You could never describe it, why your grandmother showed up on the dark and stormy night that was the eve of your birthday. It was like she knew something was going on, something bigger than just turning fourteen.

When you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t control anything. Things flew off your shelves before you could fully grab them, candles lit with nothing but a gentle blow of wind from your mouth, and when you went to school that day, an infamous bully had decided to pick on you the wrong day. You just glared at her, telling her to “eat frogs.”

As the first frog hopped out of her mouth, you stood horrified. Then the next one came. And the next one.

You didn’t stop running until you got home, where your grandmother sat, swirling her spoon in her cup of tea. Her hand didn’t touch the spoon. She told you that day of the truth. That every other generation, a child is chosen to become a witch in your family. Your father missed it. And she told you the story of your grandfather, a monster hunter sent to kill her. But something had happened on that mission, something no one could explain. They had fallen in love.

And for years, your grandfather was able to tell the entire hunting community that she was off limits. When he died, he told her to move to Everbrook.

“Why Everbrook?” You had asked, and she looked at you, with this mischievous smile.

“Surely you understand, my dear.” When you said nothing, she chuckled. “There’s magic there. Magic that keeps hunters from going anywhere near the place. That’s why there are so many monsters there today. Witches, like me and you, we’re harder to find. But vampires, ghosts, demons. They’re all real. And a lot of them live on sacred land like Everbrook.” She explained. “That’s why we must go, and I must teach you how to control your gifts—”

You stood up, seemingly horrified by this idea. You weren’t some kind of freak; you were totally normal. You had no reason to go with her.

“I’m not going with you! I’m nothing like you!” You stormed off to your room, inclining her to drop the topic for now.

Time and time again, your grandmother would encourage you to let her teach you. Instead, you sheltered yourself away from the world, focusing on maintaining the abilities you had. They terrified you. You were just a kid, how could you be a scary witch, something that was made up to scare small children into behaving?

So, you never went to your grandma’s house again. And you didn’t celebrate Halloween, and for a long time, you pretended. Pretended you were normal, when you went to college, in your relationships.

But the past eventually caught up with you when your grandmother passed away. She had left you her house in Everbrook, as well as a small sum of money. She had written you a letter, begging you to move there, to read her old books and to embrace who you were.

It took you almost a year, but you did.

That was a long time ago, and yet, it was also yesterday.

You lived a peaceful life in Everbrook. You learned how to at least properly manage your magic, not yet totally mastering it. You planted a garden and made sure your vegetables and herbs were always taken care of.  

You made friends with various groups of monsters, your favorite being a ghost that haunted your favorite coffee shop in town. You live a good life, one devoid of people chasing you and trying to kill you for what you could do. You were simple the village crazy person, always on the outskirts of town in your own little world.

Sure, Everbrook was a small, quaint town. A little too small at times, but you loved your small crazy time. Nothing went exceptionally wrong here.

That is, until you meet a monster hunter named Joel.

• • •

Okay, you don’t know he’s a monster hunter when you meet him. He doesn’t know you’re a witch, so what did it matter?

He had moved to Everbrook with a kid, Ellie. You wondered why. Why a man in his late forties, early fifties, would adopt a teenager, and why they would move to this strange little town, away from everything.

You meet him in the bookstore. You, in between tending to your garden and learning spells, are determined to learn how to bake. You’re a good cook, but baking doesn’t come nearly as easily to you.

He’s shopping for comic books when you see him. You note everything about him, letting your head tilt to the side as you examine him. He wears this green and black flannel, appropriate for this time of year. His jeans are this dark blue, and his boots have leaves sticking to the bottom of them. The roots of his hair, and small pieces of his beard, are gray.

You bite your tongue.

You’re suddenly seventeen years old, with your first real crush on a guy. He was your older brother’s best friend. You suppose you’ve always had a thing for older guys, then. It was just a habit you’ve picked up on. Not that you weren’t of an appropriate age, but there was still a gap.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it was rude to stare?” He asks, not looking up from the comic he’s inspecting. Your head turns, trying to tell if he’s talking to you or someone else. Besides the bored employee at the front counter, you’re the only two people in the store.

“How’d you know I was staring?” He chuckles, looking up to you for the first time, and he’s struck by your appearance. You’re wearing these dangly crystal earrings, with lavender flowers sticking out of your belt. You wear boots too, although they’re much less dirty than his, and sticking out of them are bunched up woolly socks. You’re holding a basket, with a loaf of bread inside, as well as a jar of jam and some chocolates. Your shirt is this deep purple, and the sleeves become nice and flowy after your elbows.

“Just had this feelin’, darling.” Your cheeks flush at the nickname.

“This feeling?” You mutter to yourself, not really asking for clarification. You take a few steps forward, flipping through the comic books. You don’t look at him. “Looking for anything specific?”

“Comics for my... for a friend. Turnin’ fourteen, figured I should get her something.” He tells you. You cringe at the age, remembering your horrible fourteenth birthday.

“You have a friend that’s a fourteen-year-old girl?” You question, a light teasing tone to your voice. He gives you this look, one of sarcasm and disbelief, without a touch of annoyance or anger.

“Will you just give me a suggestion, or are you going to keep asking questions?” He asks.

“Touche.” You say, before pulling out a cool sci-fi one that had been recommended to you. “Here, get her this one.” You hand it to him, and he examines it for a few minutes, seemingly trying to get a grip on what it is and what the plot was. But, he figures his friend will enjoy it, so he glances back at you and smiles.

“Thank you,” He pauses, asking you for your name without asking for it. You tell him, and he still has this small smile on his face. “I’m Joel. Joel Miller. Am I gonna be seein’ you around?” He asks. You shrug.

“I live on the outskirts of town, in this little cottage. I only come into town every so often.”

“The old brick one with the overgrown garden?” You frown. “I live in that area, in the cabin with the blue mailbox.”

“My garden is not overgrown, Mr. Miller, it’s just full!” You defend. But it perplexes you, no one except introverts and people who want to stay hidden live in that area. You wonder what Joel Miller could possibly be hiding but convince yourself for the moment that Joel Miller is just an introvert. After all, that’s what you tell people when they ask about you. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Then I’ll see you around, Darlin’.” He hums, and nods to you, “Thanks for the help.” Then he goes to the counter to pay for the gift, and then he’s gone. You must have this perplexed look on your face, because the woman at the counter, Angela, just smirks as she rings you up.

“He’s handsome, huh?”

“What?”

“The guy you were talking to.”

“Well, I can’t say he’s not handsome.” Your face flushes. She laughs, although not maliciously. \

“Even fairies who live on the outskirts of town like you deserve love.”

“’m not a fairy...” You mumble as you make your way out of the shop, head turning down the sidewalks to see if you can spot Joel. When you can’t, you begin your long walk home, disappointment stabbing at you the whole time.

• • •

The next time you see Joel, you go to his house.

You don’t go to see Joel, but you made these homemade chocolate chip cookies, and they turned out a lot better than you expected. You want to share your creation with someone, so you head to the cabin with the blue mailbox in hopes of finding the young girl he lives with and giving her them as a birthday present.

You decide, on the off chance that you do see Joel, to wear this cute dark green jumper, with a black layered skirt, as well as your standard black boots. You put your hair up with a bandana and head over to your destination. It’s colder than it was the other day when you met him, but it’s nice.

In your basket, you keep the cookies, as well as a bundle of flowers from your garden. You knock on the door, and a young girl answers, her hair pulled back. She wears ripped jeans, an Adventure Time tee shirt and a long-sleeved black shirt under it.

“Uh... Can I help you?” She asks.

“Hi! Does Joel live here?” You’re sure he does, but you want to make sure just in case. The girl gets this smirk on her face, and you feel your ears go red.

“You’re the one from the bookstore.”

“…He told you about me?”

“Won’t shut up about you. I’m Ellie.” She smiles, and opens the door further, inviting you to come in. “He’s upstairs, I can grab him for you—”

“Uh, I’m actually here to see you.” She stops and looks at you. “He told me it was your birthday, and I decided to give you these.” You pull out the cookies and the flowers and hand them to her. She gasps at the sight of the cookies, delicately putting the flowers down before grabbing a cookie. She hums, looking to you.

“These are amazing! I haven’t had good cookies in so long, Joel isn’t much of a baker,”

“Neither am I, honestly. I’m still learning, but I figured it was your birthday and you deserve some.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She hums, finishing her cookie.

From the top of the stairs, you hear a familiar voice yell out, “Ellie, who was at the door?”

“Come down here and find out, old man!” You laugh, but quickly stop laughing when he comes down the stairs. His hair is wet from the shower. You want to scream at how good he looks. He just stares at you, and neither of you says anything until you decide to go first.

“Uhm, I brought cookies.” You say, “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“No, no, you didn’t intrude... I just, wasn’t expecting you is all.” He says honestly. You begin to look around a bit at your surroundings and realize that Joel and Ellie have been living the bachelor life, and there aren’t many boxes. You wonder if they had any boxes to begin with, since it seems they’re close but there’s something off about the whole dynamic. You can’t put your finger on it, but you see that Ellie clearly isn’t here against her will.

But who are you to judge? You live a witch’s life, and that isn’t something you share on a first date.

“Well, help yourself to a cookie,”

“Hey! You said these were my birthday cookies!”

“Ellie!” Joel scolds, looking back at you. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, that would be nice.”  You smile, and he gets you one. “Would you like to go outside to talk?” You ask softly, and he just smiles and nods, grabbing a cookie before going out with you and your coffee. You lean against the porch railing, sipping your coffee. You wait for him to begin the conversation, suddenly quite nervous.

“So…How long have you lived in Everbrook?”

“A while. Are you gonna be here for a while?” You ask.

“I think so. I like it here, nice, and quiet.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” You hum. “How’d you wind up with Ellie?”

“I uhm… I adopted her. Knew her folks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“’s alright...” He smiles gently and sips his coffee. “She liked that comic book you recommended, so thanks...”

“No problem. She’s a nice kid.” You smile.

“So, what’s your deal, Darlin’?”

“My deal?”

“You’re always dressed in these crazy outfits, and you have this dazed look about you. Like a little bunny.” Your face flushes, and you laugh.

“I just like living the simple life. So, what if I dress a little eccentrically? You dress like a lumberjack all the time, am I gonna see you chopping trees?” You tease, smiling gently. He laughs and it makes you all warm inside. Maybe he really likes you.

“No, no chopping trees for me.” he said gently, leaning against the banister.

“Well, what do you do for work?” He pauses and stares out into the forest ahead of him.

“I used to be a hunter.”

A chill runs down your spine, and you begin to think. It would make sense, his sudden showing up in Everbrook, his interest in you. But how does that connect back to Ellie? Why would he adopt a teenager in his line of work?

Why hasn’t he killed you, then?

“Yeah. My grandfather was a hunter. Until he met my grandmother, then he couldn’t do it anymore.”

Joel stays silent, sipping his coffee.

• • •

About a week goes by, and Joel shows up at your door. The top part of your door is swung open and you’re cooking dinner when he walks up the path through your garden. He calls your name into the open door, and you quickly appear. You grin at him, and then you notice the bouquet of wildflowers he holds in his hands.

“These are for you.” he says softly, and you take them, a large grin on your face.

“Thank you. They’re gorgeous.” You tell him.

“Pretty girl like you deserves pretty flowers.” He says, and your cheeks flush.

“Please, come in.” You tell him, opening the bottom of the Dutch door. He steps inside, and notices how warm it is. Not temperature wise, but there’s this feeling to it. Warm yellow lights, plants everywhere, the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Somewhere from deeper in the house, music plays.

“What’re you cookin’?”

“Oh, I’m making chicken parm…Do you want to stay for dinner?” You’ve never asked anyone to stay for dinner, it’s a bizarre feeling.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright, good. Then set the table, and then we can eat.” You tell him. He hums and goes to do as he is told. Eventually, you manage to plate and serve dinner, sitting across from him. You watch him for his reaction to the food, and after a few bites he just hums lowly, and looks at you, pointing to the dish with his fork, not saying anything. You grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you for having me for dinner. I came over to apologize, really.”

“Apologize?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you I was a hunter. I know how off putting that could be for someone, to hear I hunted animals.”

You can’t confirm your suspicions that he was hunting more than just animals. So you let it go, in favor for him not pushing you and finding out that you were a witch.

“It’s alright, Joel. Everyone has to make a living somehow, right?” You hum. He smiles and nods. “So, where’s Ellie tonight?”

“Eh, I wanted to give her some time to herself.”

“Good man.” You smile, continuing to eat your food.

“Where’d you happen to come upon this little cottage?” He asks you, tilting his head.

“I inherited it from my grandmother.” You told him, a soft smile on your face, as there always was when you thought of her. “She was a good woman. She passed away when I was twenty-one.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He tells you, and you can tell by this look in his eyes that there’s something more to his sentiment. That this is a man who has known grief well and is haunted by it. You wonder if he toured the country killing people like you before or after he became good friends with grief.

“It’s okay. I got to move here and live a good life.” You confess, and this makes him smile again. Then, you can’t help but ask. “Why’d you move to Everbrook, Joel?” He tenses at your questions. You can tell he’s contemplating what to tell you. You know whatever he tells you will only be a half truth no matter what.

“Ellie got into some trouble where I used to live. Figured a place like this would be good for her. Safe.” You can tell it’s not a lie, but you aren’t satisfied with it. That’s when you realize you have to know. You do know that all hunters have the same tattoo, right above their inner elbow on their biceps. It’s always a bow and arrow, with the hunter’s initials incorporated into the arrow. You also know the tattoo is protected by some sort of seal that burns most creatures to the touch. You have to know. So, with a wave of your hand, subtly, the glass of wine Joel drinks from spills all over his flannel, and he huffs.

“Oh my god, here,” You start handing him napkins as he attempts to clean up the mess. He glances up at you, and his eyes have this look about them. Like he knows you were the reason it spilt. Then, he starts to unbutton and pull off his flannel before he suddenly remembers that you would see his Hunter’s mark. You realize he knows your plan and stand, going over to him and dabbing his flannel with your napkin.

“C’mon Joel, take the flannel off.” You sigh, and he says nothing. He slowly begins to pull off the flannel, but before you can really look for a tattoo, his hands are on your waist, pulling you between his legs.

He leans up and kisses you before you can see the tattoo. You put your hands on his cheeks and kiss back, bringing yourself closer to him. He hums into the kiss, standing up and walking, so that you’re up against your counter tops.

His hands are roaming your sides, and you groan softly into the kiss. The desperation you’ve had since you met him, it all comes to a head. Your hands first go to his hair, where they play with his hair, including the grays that threaten to push you over the edge.

Despite your suspicions that he wants to kill you, you want him desperately. You groan as he bites your lip, tugging it a bit, and you just moan. Your hand runs down his arm, because just for a moment, you forget the context of the kiss.

You pull away when your hand starts to burn, letting out a yell.

He looks terrified that you’ve found him out. Tears prick your eyes.

“I knew it..” You whisper softly, turning to run your hand under cold water. Joel’s tattoo glows, as it always did when anything supernatural touched it. “I think you should go.”

“Darlin’, I—”

“Go, Joel! I don’t want you here, just fucking kill me when I’m walking home from the market! Don’t kiss me like you want me when you’re here to kill me!” You snap, tears running down your face. He doesn’t say anything after that. He steps forward and kisses your shoulder gently.

He turns and leaves, and even though you tell him to leave, you turn back hoping to see him.

The worst part is that nothing makes sense anymore. He’s stronger than you. If he wanted to kill you, he could have. And how does Ellie fit into the situation, why would he move to a magical town with a teenage girl?

You’re frustrated, and your hand is burning. You cry some more as you attempt to clean the spilt wine, frustrated that it stains the rug that the table stands on. You were such an idiot, why would you let him kiss you? Why would you kick him out after?

You decide a cup of tea will help clear your mind, but you don’t stop crying all night.

• • •

The full moon looks beautiful tonight. You’ve charged your crystals and have done your monthly rituals to enable a prosperous month ahead. So, at around midnight, you go for a walk through the woods. Even though you know how dangerous it is. The woods, on nights like tonight, are full of werewolves. But most of them live in their own woods across town, so you don’t expect to have any problems.

As you’re walking, you’re thinking about Joel. You can’t help it, your kiss has you yearning for more, and you’re just desperate for him. You’re too deep in your thoughts to hear footsteps behind you, until someone grabs your arm and you’re pulled behind a tree.

And when you see Joel, you’re even more mad at him.

“What’re you doin’ here?!” He whisper-yells, and you glare.

“What are you doing here?! I’m allowed to go for walks whenever I want, you aren’t the boss of me!”

“Always so damn in your own mind, could you consider for a moment that I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay?!”

“You’re here to kill me!”

“I’m here to make sure Ellie doesn’t kill anyone or get herself killed!”

You stop.

“What...?” That’s when you hear it, a howl. It sends a shiver down your spine. And that’s when it all clicks. Joel isn’t hunting you; he isn’t here to kill you. Ellie isn’t a kid he adopted from a friend, she’s someone he’s assigned to protect. He used to hunt, but not anymore. “She’s a werewolf.” You look at him.

“And you’re a witch, are we all caught up now?”

“How’d you know?’

“Before the mark burnt you and you spilled my wine? I just knew. I hunted people for years, but you witches, you always have these cabins in the woods, and you’re always baking, and you always have flowers. It’s like y’all are one big stereotype—” He’s cut off by your lips on his, and his hands are on your hips again, pushing you against a nearby tree. You hum before he pulls away, starting to kiss down your neck.

“Joel...” You say softly, your hands in his hair.

“I’ve got you, sweet thing...” He mutters, biting down on your neck, leaving a mark.

Ellie howls again, closer now. It snaps you both out of your trance and you look to each other. He grabs your hand, and you make your way through the woods, back to your cabin. He’ll make sure you get home safe, and then he’ll continue to look after Ellie. But he hears it before you—Panting, pattering steps behind you.

“Run!” He tells you and you both take off. Twigs scrape the bottoms of your legs and your arms as you run, never letting go of Joel’s hand. Your skirt catches on one of these branches and you topple over, letting go of Joel’s hand. Before he can reach you, Ellie is on top of you—She’s smaller than other werewolves you’ve encountered but the weight of her fur is too much. She has you caged in, and she has this snarl on her face.

Then, the strangest thing happens. She starts to sniff your skin, as if trying to figure out who you are.

“It’s me, Ellie. It’s just me, ‘m not gonna hurt you, honey.” You tell her. And it’s as if a lightbulb switches inside of her head, and suddenly she’s licking your face, happy you’re here. You groan at the slober, and gently push her head away from you.

She backs off, letting you get up. You kneel back down to scratch her head.

“Why were we running if we knew she wouldn’t kill me?” You ask.

“Didn’t know that. She doesn’t attack me, but she’s attacked others.” He tells you. You hum, picking up a stick and waving it in front of her face, before throwing it as far as you can. She runs off to get the stick. It makes you laugh.

You stand fully now, glancing back to Joel.

“So…”

“I gotta finish looking after her. She’s my mission now.” You nod, stepping closer to him.

“Well..” You start, your hands on his shoulders. “You could at least kiss me again.” He grins and leans down, kissing you softly before pulling away.

 “Like that?”

“Hmm, I was thinking something with a little more passion...” You shrug. “It was okay, I guess.” You tease, and he smiles, then brings you in for a longer, deeper kiss.

You spend all night with Joel, looking after Ellie and kissing until dawn. When the morning comes, you go out in search of Ellie on your own, a blanket and some pajamas in hand. Joel’s searching the other way. You find her, cold and alone, huddled up by herself. You frown.

You crouch beside her and wrap the blanket around her, frowning softly.

“Sorry I licked you.” She says softly. You recognize the tone of her voice. Her shame in who she is. You empathize with it, remembering how horrible it was to be fourteen. You smile and hand her the clothes.

“Don’t worry about it.” You turn so she can get dressed, but the blanket remains wrapped around her shoulders. You realize she doesn’t have shoes on. You frown and pull off your boots, kneeling in front of her. You gently put your socks on her feet, and then your boots. You lace them up, and make sure they’re nice and tight. “There. Nice and warm.”

You glance back up to her, and you see tears running down her face. You frown and bring a hand to cup her cheek. She doesn’t have to say anything, you know she feels ashamed and embarrassed of her newfound abilities.

“Oh, honey… You don’t have to apologize. I was bitter and angry when I became a witch, and it destroyed me. You come from a very long line of werewolves, and—”

“I’m the first one. I got bit six months ago.” You frown. That’s why this wasn’t Joel’s first time watching over her on a full moon. And you’ve heard of werewolves biting kids before they’re fourteen and starting a new line of the creature.

“Then I’ll teach you. How to live this life, how to be happy in your own skin. It won’t be easier, but embracing who you are is so much easier than ignoring it. I’ll be here every step of the way, and so will Joel. We’re not gonna leave you to deal with this on your own.” You tell her, and when you stand up finally, she hugs you tightly. You smile to yourself and hug back.

“You two okay?” Joel asks when he finally finds you two. Ellie wipes her tears and smiles at him.

“Yeah, let’s go home. I’m sick of these woods, and I want breakfast!” she declares. You laugh, rubbing her back and beginning your walk to their cabin.

This is it, you decide. This man and this girl, they’re it for you. They are your happy ending, your family. Sure, it’s not the most conventional family, what, with a werewolf, a witch, and a monster hunter. But it’s yours, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled to have them.

You have spent so many years longing for someone to see who you are and love you despite your freakish abilities. But all along, you were meant to be around freaks who are just like you. You are designed to be each other’s family, and you were always destined for the fate of your grandmother—To fall in love with a monster hunter and live a quiet life in Everbrook as you perfect your spells.

Joel looks back at you for a moment with this perplexed look on his face.

“Darlin’, where the hell are your shoes?”

[the-record]

rewatching twilight saga…. thinking things ab a twilight au……

[tomhockstetter7-111]

My Spotify Playlist Series

Song recommendations for addition or removal encouraged

The Archetypes

The Viber

The Dying (Depressed)

The Artist

The Fuck Up (Heartbreak)

The Psycho (Laughing Jack vibes)

The Recluse (Sally Face and Ticci Toby vibes)

The Stalker (Yandere vibes)

The Dreamer

The Mermaid

The Early Bird

The Nightcruisers

The Lovers

The Wolf (Jacob Black, Peter Rumancek, etc.)

The Hypomaniac (Cruella vibes)

Comfort Characters

Hades (Greek Mythology)

Death (Sandman)

Link (Legend of Zelda)

The Twins (Harry Potter) This one is surprisingly tricky

Logan (X-Men)

Other

Ballet Class

Contemporary Ballet Barre (Inspired by music my teacher played)

The Endless (Sandman by Neil Gaiman)

Luci’s Playlist (Tom Ellis Lucifer)

Salem’s Mix (shit my brother recommended)

[tymime]

Taking place in the same universe as Jack & Ellie (an indeterminate number of centuries in the future), Midnight Town is about Darby the werewolf, Gerrard the gargoyle, and Brandywyck the goblin, who get into crazy and scary adventures of supernatural mysteries and paranormal investigation. Unlike Jack & Ellie, Midnight Town goes beyond European fairy tales and myths, taking inspiration from classic Gothic horror literature and movies, mythology from all over the world- including ancient Egypt and Japan- and of course the spooky comedy of The Addams Family, The Munsters, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Disney's Haunted Mansion, Scooby-Doo and Ghostbusters.

Darby comes from a long line of werewolves, and is a direct descendant of the Irish werewolf Wulver, so he's in werewolf form even during the day. Gerrard, like other gargoyles in this universe, can turn into stone at will. Brandywyck is an inventor and a chemist, creating the gadgets that help them solve mysteries. We also see Darby's girlfriend Clementine, a bookish, well-read werewolf whose family was cursed to be permanent werewolves generations ago, similar to Darby, but she's perfectly okay with it.