#sorry I’m insane about werewolves
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Ok so we can all agree this crown is cursed as hell but what if…. werewolf curse
[Image ID: a digital drawing of ZombieCleo as a werewolf, which in my style is just a human-sized wolf.
She’s mostly orange with light tan-ish orange on her face, neck/chest, legs, and belly. She also has darker russet on her back, shoulders, tail tip, and ears. She has dark blue-grey ticking on her back behind her shoulders, tail tip, and ears.
They have a black nose and paw pads, and emerald green eyes. They have very thick flowy/slightly curly fur on their cheeks, neck, belly, elbows, paws, and tail. It forms an especially thick mane on their neck. Their tail is very long for a wolf, reaching even longer than their hind legs.
Their teeth are bared and their snout is wrinkled in a snarl.
They have a fairly small golden crown on their head, with a tall point in the front and a single emerald in the center. The background is stained-paper-textured beige with very simple gold filigree on the sides and corners.
/End ID]
Bonus doodles under the cut because I couldn’t decide on a pose
[Image ID: a series of simple digital sketches of the same character.
Top left: the wolf has their head bowed low and their shoulders are angled towards the viewer, while the rest of their body is about a three-fourths view.
Bottom left: the wolf is laying down with their paws crossed, their head angled haughtily up and to the left. The drawing is incomplete, cutting off at the hips/hind legs.
Top center: another drawing of the wolf laying down with her paws crossed. In this one, though, her head is angled down and to the right. Also, this one is finished, showing a huge tail half-curled.
Bottom center: the wolf walking to the left with her head bowed low, her right front leg in the process of stepping and showing off her toe beans. Her tail is held high.
Right: the wolf in a very dramatic pose like she’s taking a great leap. She’s got one paw tucked near her chest, while the other is raised high like she’s gonna smack something. Her mouth is wide open, showing off some huge canines. She’s twisting around so she’s mostly facing the viewer, but with her head and chest angled to the left and the lower half of her body angled to the right.
/End ID]
#sorry I’m insane about werewolves#anyway#art#zombiecleo#zombiecleo fanart#hermitcraft fanart#wolf#werewolf#I tried to give it a little bit of medieval flavor but it Did Not come across I just spent several hours drawing fur LMAO#I love this shitty ass tiny adorable cursed tiara#it’s so funny to me I love it#do y’all think the crown is compensating for something? /j
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"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 3
Future pairings = poly 141 x reader
Chapter pairings = 141! x reader
Words = 1.2k
[Chapter 2] --- [Chapter 4]
Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.
EXPLICIT under the cut, also gets angsty this chapter
Blinking blearily you feel someone noseing at your side. It was Gaz, he motioned for you to follow him. Yawning, you follow him a bit deeper into the woods, a bit further away from the pack. He stops and presses against you making a small happy chuff. He circles around you, before pressing against you again and you both transform into human, flushing as you realize you are both naked.
“It’s okay Duck, just needed to talk to ya.” Smiling he places a hand on your shoulder “I didn’t wanna do it infront of those ruffians..”
That draws a soft laugh from your lips and you look at Gaz curiously.
“So you might have noticed that me and you are much much smaller than the other three” Gaz took in a deep breath “This is going to sound ridiculous, I’m sorry Duck,” Smiling nervously Gaz looked at you sweetly “We are omegas and the other three are alphas..”
You sputter a knee-jerk laugh “W-what?” looking as Gaz confused, you had about one hundred different ideas of what he was going to say and this was not one of them.
“I know, it sounds ridiculous.” Gaz shakes his head “I told Price he was crazy when he first explained it.”
“I thought those didn’t exist in real wolf packs? Like it was exclusive to podcasts?” You look at Gaz still not quite believing him still.
“Well Duck, don’t know if ya’ve noticed but we aren't actual wolves and I promise we aren't a podcast..Ghost hates them- any podcast- said they drive him insane..”
“So what is the um difference other than the um size difference? Or is it just that we are a different size than them?”
“Uh, it affects the um- reproductive system.” Gaz flushed “Basically we can get pregnant, we generate lots of slick, um I’m sorry Duck but we also go through heats- the others go through ruts in all fairness..It's a bloody nightmare.”
Staring at Gaz surprised and a bit incredulously “But I’ve never had any of that happen?”
“Duck you had a device that prevented you from shifting, Soap had one and once it came out um- he went a bit feral..”
“Oh um..Did he go into-” ducking your head you look at Gaz curiously “-rut?”
Gaz snorted, not meanly, nodding his head “He was a nightmare…”
Thinking for a second you bite your lip “That doesn’t sound good…I um don’t even know what I’d do…”
“Something to consider but we all would in a heartbeat offer to take care of you during your heat, we don't’ have to do anything sexual we just want to make sure you stay safe..” Gaz looked at you reassuringly “in a heartbeat we’d help” he stressed.
“What? What do you mean sexual” feeling a presence behind you, you see Price, in his human form- naked of course. Your face is right at dick level. Fuck. Flash of arousal passes over you before you shut it down, blushing.
“You get really horny.” Soap says bluntly, appearing next to you and getting up in your space. Playfully licking your jaw like an overgrown puppy.
“Oh!” you squeak.
“I know this is all a lot, love.” Price helped you to your feet, brushing the dirt off you.
Flushing, you feel another spark of arousal- it had been so long since someone had touched you. It was so foreign and almost terrifying- you haven't felt like that since before you got bit. All four of the men turn to you, their nose picking up on it instantly. You flush, running a hand over your face “Sorry..”
“Don’t apologize Duck, it’s normal- you aren’t in pain right now” Gaz smiled “We don’t need to do anything, I know this is a lot yeah?”
Nodding you look at the four men.
Soap grinned “Well at least you aren’t like me, I was insatiable- wore out these three proper..”
Gaz barked out a laugh “Never been chapped like that...”
Price huffs a laugh.
“Come mer’ lets get ya home, it’s gettn’ cold” Ghost motioned for everyone to go back into the house, staying behind everyone- herding you all into the house.
Stepping back into the house you shiver- you hadn’t realized how cold you were. Looking at the digital thermostat it told you it was 38 F out. Made sense you were so cold- you were also naked.
“I’m gunna go put on some clothes.” You pulled away from the group, you didn’t feel uncomfortable being naked but it wasn’t proper to be naked around strangers. Right? Did that count if the strangers felt like old friends?
“You don’t have to~” Soap teased, looking you up and down.
That earned him a cuff behind the ears from Price and a pinch from Ghost.
Soap pouted and frowned but stopped.
“We should be putting on our clothes mutt” Ghost chastised Soap huffing at him.
“It’s not an issue?” Pausing on the stairs you tilt your head “I- um don’t mind..” you say hesitantly, but you really didn’t want them to put back on their clothes with how mouth watering hot they were.
Soap grins and looks up at Ghost and Price, Gaz smirks too.
“Sorry that came out bad- I um you can put on your clothes if you want I’m sorry..” Blushing as you realized how perverted that sounded.
“Whatever you want, Duck!” smirking Soap gave Ghost and Price the biggest smug look ever.
“Alright, alright..” Price huffs “Listen er’ we should probably get going- we don’t want to impose and we need to get some stuff done..You should relax, love”
Nodding, you felt a stab of disappointment. It made sense, why would they stay at a random stranger's house? It didn’t matter if you were also a werewolf. They had literally met you only earlier today.
The men quickly dress, Soap very begrudgingly. Gaz pulled back on his lace thong very showy, smirking at you- flashing his sharp canines. Soap skulked pulling on his shirt first then pulling up his jeans, only doing the button and leaving them unzipped. Him and Gaz seem very hesitant to leave, it makes you feel anxious.
“One of us will come check on you later tomorrow, love” Price says over his shoulder as he ushers the other men out of the house.
“Okay,” You nod again, closing the door as they leave.
Sighing, you go upstairs and take a shower. You couldn’t understand why you felt so lonely, like you had been left behind. It wasn’t rational! You wipe your tears as you move your pillowcase into the dryer.
The sadness you felt was all encompassing and painful. You end up showering and then taking a hot bath in an attempt to feel better but you only feel worse and worse. When you make it into your bed, with your clean pillow case you break down.
Big tears run down your face as you hold onto your pillow, sobbing loudly. You had never felt this broken and dejected before. You felt sick, scrambling to the toilet to vomit. Any time you feel semi-okay another wave of sickness takes over you, you feel guilty for vomiting up Soap’s soup.
He was so good even though he hardly knew you, feeding you, being nice…Then Price was good too, getting you your heated blanket, making sure you weren’t sick, getting Gaz to get the silver out of your body…Gaz, sweet Gaz- he fixed you right up, sitting with you as you woke up, pulling you aide, being so nice and accommodating…Ghost, helped you shift, made sure you got inside as it got cold.
You wash your mouth out when you finally feel okayish. You were still crying, feeling so incredibly distraught.
#call of duty#mw2#captain john price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#kyle gaz x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x you#johnny mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#angst#a/b/o dynamics
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Thicker Than December Update
The update link:
Thicker Than Free Demo
Update info:
As of the 26th of December 2023
Finished Chapter Six
Started work on Chapter Seven (currently incomplete)
Added explicit scene with Freya in Chapter Four
Several bug and spelling fixes
Additional Words: 27,104 (excluding commands)
Total Word Count: 175,440 (excluding commands )
Other links:
Supporting me on KoFi helps ensures my ongoing survival, which I really do appreciate.
You can email me at barbara truelove writes at g mail dot com.
I have a website that I spent actual money on. I'm not sure why, but it's pretty.
If you like the way I write vampires maybe consider checking on the first story in this series, Blood Moon, which is about werewolves and is polished and pretty in a way this very much isn't.
Other free games can be found on my itch.io page.
My ramblings:
Merry Christmas and happy full moon. I really hope, wherever you are in the world, you’re having a great day. I won’t be able to see the moon tonight thanks to a circling storm cloud, but I’m hoping it’ll clear up tomorrow and I can do some stargazing.
I’ve managed to get quite a few words down this month, so I’m really happy about that. Chapter Six is finished, and I’ve started work on Chapter Seven. Chapter Seven is still in the early stages. Depending on your previous choices, it may not even exist yet on certain playthroughs. I’m sorry about that. It’s going to take some time to fill in all the different routes and bring them all together again.
I’ve also gone back to Chapter Four and added some more content in for Freya because several people told me they weren’t really vibing with her romance arc. I’m really glad I did that because I think speeding up her romance route makes a lot of sense and it flows better overall.
I’ve also done a lot of little edits scattered throughout. Nothing super major, but I hope it improves the flow of certain scenes.
On a more technical note: I’ve been having a weird issue with the automatic Choicescript tests in CSIDE. The random_test has been slowing to a crawl and/or freezing. It doesn’t spit out any errors, and the quick_test has been working fine, so I’m really not sure why this has started to happen. It may mean there is an infinite loop error somewhere in Chapter 6 or 7. If so, I haven’t been able to find it. If anyone encounters a page that loads forever but doesn’t show any text, please let me know. The game won’t be able to be submitted to Hosted Games if it can’t pass a random_test, so I really want to sort this out sooner rather than later.
If you spot any other errors, large or small, I’d be really grateful if you could let me know. Thicker Than is big enough now that it’s a little unwieldy to navigate, and hard to edit. I’m really grateful to the people who’ve taken the time to send me things which don’t look quite right. It’s so insanely helpful and really encouraging knowing you’re rooting for Thicker Than to succeed.
💙
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I’m so curious about Wizarding fashion. JKR isn’t very physically descriptive- we just know that wizards wear robes, which are outlandish to muggles, and pointy hats, but what does that really mean? What kind of robe? Magical fashion clearly isn’t very gendered, since Harry remarks on a man at the Quidditch World Cup wearing a dress and insisting that it’s unisex (certainly not the case in Britain at the time), but we don’t have any other parameters. Keeping in mind the uniform from the movies, and the fact that in SWM, Snape isn’t wearing any trousers, here’s what I think wizards wear:
1. Flowing silhouettes and cloaks; clearly, wizards love a good statement cloak. Think tassels and frills (not like Ron’s Yule Ball fit!), massive extended sleeves and lots of draping.
2. Skirts: let’s be honest, just one singular robe, without any layering, doesn’t give us much to work with. Skirts go with the general silhouette, explain why the World Cup wizard thought muggle men wore dresses, and keep with the no-trousers thing from SWM. I’m South Asian, so I like to have a little fun with it and think of wizards in ghararas (my favourite item of clothing); the Wizarding World is quite insular, travel is relatively unrestricted (hello, they have magic!), everyone has a common enemy in muggles (and other species- goblins, house-elves) etcetera, so race probably doesn’t function the same way and I headcanon a lot of cross-cultural exchange. Plus, wizarding fashion isn’t restricted by weather- they have warming charms- so wearing clothes made for hot climates in England, for example, wouldn’t be a problem.
Plus, I actually think saris are a natural fancy dress option- flowy, drapey, colourful. Speaking of which-
3. If there’s one fanon idea that I hate (aside from fanon!Sirius, of course), it’s this image of wizards (specifically high society wizards) as reserved. Sorry, did we read the same books? Wizards, even posh, rich wizards, like the Malfoys and Blacks, are camp and very outlandish. They do house-elf taxidermy, they keep their wands in canes. Just because Hogwarts uniforms are black doesn’t mean that people dress like they’re in mourning all the time. People can be total snobs and obsessed with their image and still wear bright pink, insane robes, because guess what? They have different social conventions than we do. Men and women dress basically the same, so there is no reason to believe that a man wearing a flowing robe would be against the norm. I say this as someone who believes misogyny and homophobia are well and truly alive in Wizarding society, especially in pureblooded families where the emphasis is on continuing the line; they definitely exist, but they probably look different.
4. My personal obsession and headcanon: rich wizards wearing bones. Look, I might not think of them as racist in the traditional sense, but they are undeniably speciesist, if that’s a word? They think of themselves as superior, and other sentient magical species either work under (goblins) or are enslaved (house-elves) by wizards. We only see Veelas very briefly, but despite them being admired for their beauty, I doubt wizards treat them very well. So- show me blood-purists wearing corsets made of goblin bones and teeth. Show me Veelas being hunted for their blood to stain and dye clothes with. Show me exotic “magical creatures” that are humanoid and capable of reasoning and should have rights, like mermaids and werewolves, being hunted for their scales and pelts while also being ostracised for being ‘non-human’. It’s terrible, but that’s the kind of archaic jewellery and fashion the old families that the fandom likes to fetishise would like to wear.
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day 28 ; dubcon
↠ jacob custos x reader
fandom: the quarry
word count: 2.4k
warnings: nsfw 18+, heavy emphasis on dubcon, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, creampie, light gore elements (wolf transformation)
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Your voice is hushed as you try to remain as calm as possible.
But Jacob was definitely not okay.
You should have known this whole night was going to go to shit once you and your fellow counselors decided to throw a last minute party before you would all go your separate ways.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. The teenagers always die that way!
You didn’t have time to dwell on your stupidity now, though. Jacob had been bitten–yes, bitten–by one of those werewolves just like the one that was trapped with you two in the red room.
You don’t think you would’ve believed anyone who told you that werewolves existed. Especially the bony, hairless, freaks of nature that you had witnessed attack the two of you before your very eyes.
When Ryan showed up with Laura, one of the counselors who didn’t make it for the summer, and freed you two while revealing their plans to kill Chris Hackett, you probably would’ve thought that they were insane if it wasn’t for the hideous creature that was locked into the cell right next to yours.
Now, you and Jacob were lost in the middle of the woods, you with an injured foot and him being bitten in the shoulder by one of the creatures when he pushed you out of the way of its attack. The open wound was bleeding profusely and the skin surrounding the area was starting to darken. You wince at the sight as you inspect it.
“Oh my god, Jake. I think it’s infected,” you mutter.
His eyes widen as his head swivels towards you. “What the fuck! Don’t tell me that!”
“Sorry!” You rip off a piece of your already torn pants in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. The fabric soaks up all the blood within seconds and you curse as you throw the useless scrap aside. “There’s a lot of blood here. I don’t know what to do.”
“Fuck–just, I don’t know, just think of something!” His words are sharp, in a tone you rarely ever heard from him, and you could hear the impatience and struggle in his voice.
“No need to get pissy with me; you’re not the only one injured here.” You gesture to your foot that was caught in a bear trap just moments prior. Trying to make your way back to the lodge had been proven a failure when another one of those goddamn werewolves appeared out of nowhere. It caught you off guard but was spooked off by a gunshot in the distance, which had led to your current situation.
“Sorry. It just really fucking hurts,” Jacob says, gripping his shoulder as he hunches over in pain. Exhausted, you plop down on the ground next to him and lean back against the tree.
You try to remain calm and wrap your head around what the actual fuck was happening tonight, since no one was around to explain to you what was going on now was.
“Okay, so I’m pretty sure that with all this shit—” you throw your hands in the air to motion to everywhere around you, “—there’s probably not a single person coming to look for us. I think our best bet is to just…wait this out. Whatever this is.” You put your head in your hands and sigh. “It’s also no use trying to move, with my leg and your arm all fucked up. Hopefully the thing that just attacked us won’t come back for seconds.”
Jacob awkwardly pats your shoulder. “Hey, hey, don’t worry about that now. At least we…” His eyes seem to glaze over as he stops talking in the middle of his sentence.
You pause at his sudden shift in behavior. Jacob was usually never this quiet, and you assume that would extend to when he was in pain. Even though this night turned out to be absolutely batshit insane, you weren’t expecting Jacob to act so unpredictable. You were worried he was hurt more than you initially thought. “Jacob…you all good?”
He blinks rapidly, as if that’ll give him the answer. “I…I don’t know, it’s like…” he rubs his chest with a closed fist, his other hand swiping across his forehead to wipe off some sweat before running it through his unkempt hair. “I feel so…hot.”
You let out a sigh of relief. That was a lot better than him saying he was in more pain. There had to be some water source close by that wouldn’t be too far for you to walk to on your own with your incapacitated foot. You could work with hot.
“Okay. Okay, that’s good.” You go to stand up from your place next to him. “Stay here. I’ll try my best to find some water to cool you down.”
“No!” Jacob grabs your arm with so much force that it knocks your head against the tree as he pulls you down to him again.
“What the fuck, man!” You rub your forehead where you made contact, wincing as you got to your knees once more. “That fucking hurt. Watch it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He calls out your name, more gentler than his abrasive tone. He still hadn’t let go of your arm. “I-I guess I don’t know my own strength anymore.”
You give him a once-over. Jacob was definitely much paler than minutes before, save for the blackness that sprang from the bite wound, and his skin was glistening with a layer of sweat that was extremely concerning given the practically freezing temperature of the night.
“Look, if you don’t want me to leave, that’s cool. But I don't think it’s a good idea for you to stay like this. You need something, anything. You’re not doing too well.” Jacob appears as though he registers your words, as his grip loosens enough for you to wriggle free from it.
“Thanks,” you breathe out. You begin to leave before being interrupted again.
“Wait!” Jacob calls. You turn around, now completely fed up. You were trying to help him, but he was making it so goddamn difficult. “I—I wanted to apologize.” Jacob audibly gulps. He’s clearly starting to become delirious, slurring his words and panting profusely. But you let him finish. “I didn’t think all of this would happen. It was only meant to be one more night.”
The implication behind his words makes your heart drop. “Jake,” you start hesitantly, “what are you talking about?”
Jacob continues to ramble. His eyes are glazed over, and you’re not even sure he heard your question. “I didn’t picture any of this to happen. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew of the—the werewolves and shit. I wanted us to have one more night together. I didn’t want you to leave.” He coughs, giving you time to register his words. “Needed another night to build up the courage, you know?”
You inhale shakily, reeling in your anger. “Are you saying that…that you purposely ruined the van so we’d get stuck here?”
“Just for the night!” His voice rises defensively, and he grabs onto your arm. “Don’t be mad! I didn’t know it would end up like this!”
You try to wriggle free from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let go of me!”
“No! Let me explain!” He pulls you down to the ground and crawls on top of you, trapping you with his body.
From your position, you’re able to get a better look at Jacob. The blackened area that was around his bite wound was clearly spreading across his body. The veins in his neck were black and bulging, and the color was starting to move up his face. He was sweating profusely, his skin slick with moisture and his face turning a deep shade of red.
Your eyes widen in concern, the anger rushing out of your body. “Oh my god, Jake, you look bad. I need to get you help. Like, right now.”
He lets out a growl, so inhuman it has you pausing in your struggle to be let free.
“Not when you're angry at me.” Jacob’s breathing gets more noticeable as the black in his veins spreads more rapidly to his face, and at this point you’re too afraid to say anything. His eyes go bloodshot as he looks down at you, panting heavily. It’s then that you feel the hardness against your stomach.
“Jake…” your voice shakes with fear, unsure of what he was going to do.
It seems as though he’s trying his hardest to restrain himself. His body trembles and his jaw clenches. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. He begins to grind himself on you, and you can feel his leaking cock through his boxers.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Jacob pleads. “It feels like I’m going to die.” He continues to push his length against you, whining. “I need to—to—”
“O-okay, just,” you gulp hard. You didn’t want to hear him say it. “Just be gentle.” You shut your eyes tight, and try to hold in your tears. If this would help Jacob from whatever that werewolf bite did to him, you would accept it, and hope that it’ll be over quickly.
With your approval, Jacob wastes no time in ripping your clothes off. The shreds lay limply on the dirt next to you, and that’s when you notice that his fingernails had grown sharp, too. He pulls off his own boxers, and you turn away after getting a glimpse of his throbbing cock, leaking with precum.
Jacob forces you to turn over, positioning you onto your hands and knees. Without any warning he rams his whole length into you with so much force it knocks you over, unable to balance on your forearms. You collapse into the ground beneath you, feeling your body get caked in the loose dirt as you’re shoved back and forth. You barely register the pain you feel where Jacob just entered you.
“J-Jacob wait!”
He ignores your protests and continues with the ruthless pace. You cry out—in what was pain or terror you aren’t sure. You can feel warm liquid running out of your pussy, what was most likely blood from the intrusion.
His balls slap against your ass as he thrusts in and out of you. His tip reaches the furthest parts of you, having you moan involuntarily. Your nails dig into the dirt beneath you as you get pummeled into it, trying to find a way, any way, to stabilize yourself.
You don’t think Jacob is coherent anymore. All you can hear from behind you is low grunts and growls, and his saliva dripping onto your bare back. He takes his hand and smashes your cheek into the ground, giving himself more momentum for his thrusts. Your body gets dragged across the ground as he moves you every which way.
“Jake…” You don’t even have the strength anymore to push back. His cock feels so big, so full inside of you, and you feel as though you’re about to break from the force of his hips against your own. The pain has subsided for the most part, and some pleasure takes its place. All you can do is allow yourself to enjoy it as best you can.
You reach your hand down towards your clit, wanting some relief. If Jacob’s going to get something good out of this, you may as well, too. Your hands are caked in dirt, but at this point nothing about what is going on could be sanitary.
You rub your hand fast against yourself, trying to match the pace of Jacob but failing. He moves faster than what you ever thought was possible, and you shakily give up after mere minutes.
Jacob’s now sharp fingernails dig into your sides as his cock pulses inside you. Your walls squeeze him tight and he lets out a loud groan from above you. Your own arousal wets his cock even more, and the pap, pap, pap of his thrusts are louder than ever.
Feral is the only word you could use to describe him now. His strength seems to have increased by a tenfold and he has you completely still by the force of a single hand. His other one grips your hip, drawing blood, which only seems to egg him on. He forces his cock deep inside you over and over to the point where your vision goes completely black.
His cock throbs furiously, and you can tell he’s about to cum. Another wave of fear washes over you. You didn’t think Jacob had any plans to pull out, not with the state he’s in. “Not inside!” You try to struggle against his hold, but it’s no use.
Jacob doesn’t listen—rather, doesn’t hear you—and his hot semen floods your pussy. You let a choked sob escape you as you feel the warm liquid drip out of your thighs.
You can’t focus too much on that now when Jacob is making strange sounds above you. He grunts, and his voice changes from his normal tone to one much more deeper and animalistic. You hear him let out a low curse behind you, and with him distracted you’re able to remove yourself from his still-hard cock.
As you cover your head with your arms all you hear from behind you is a loud burst, and the sensation of hot liquid coating your back and making you flinch. You turn to look and choke out a scream and frantically scamper away in the ground as the weight of Jacob’s body leaves you.
In your friend’s place is a werewolf, almost identical to the one in the basement with gray skin and gangly limbs with a mouth full of sharp teeth. You stare in terror, covered in Jacob’s blood, just waiting to be gored to death by the terrifying beast.
But instead the creature stares back, and for just a second, you think you see recognition in its eyes. Then it scampers away, snarling as it passes between the trees and out of your sight.
As Jacob (should you even call that thing by his name?) flees, you fall apart, choking on the sobs you tried your best to hold back before.
You pray to whatever god is out there listening that the sun would rise soon to save all your friends, and to pretend that this entire night never even happened.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#jacob custos#jacob custos x reader smut#jacob custos x you#the quarry x reader smut#the quarry x reader#the quarry smut
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Lydia x Brother!reader - trust you
Lydia Martin X Brother!Reader (if ok? If not, could I request it be sibling!reader instead please?) Who has ADHD and has an interest in supernatural creatures, and Lydia has always gone to him for advice on any new threats, but when R is attacked by a monster Lydia is both worried and feeling guilty for not telling R about the supernatural world being real, but assures R that her and the pack have his back? Sorry for it being long! - Anon💜
Sitting in your room, you tapped your pen against the book in front of you as you scrolled through the webpage on your computer.
You were noting things down about druids, a current fascination of yours.
You were curious about supernatural creatures, you didn’t care that they were myths, you simply just loved learning about them, the lore behind them.
And right now you were down the rabbit hole of druids and the lore behind them, there was is much to read and learn, you hadn’t realised you had been at it nearly all day until your sister came in.
“I have a question about banshees.”
You blinked, shaking your head a little as you looked up at your sister, turning your chair around to look at you properly as you kicked your feet up on the desk.
“Go for it Lydia.”
“Well, what exactly do they do?”
“I suppose it depends on the country and the lore, some say they can predict death, when they sense or know someone is close to death the scream. It can be said that if you hear a banshee scream, you or someone close to you will die soon.”
She nodded her head, asking a few more follow up questions.
You happily answered them all, unaware of her muted phone in her pocket with the rest of her friends listening to the conversation.
When she seemed happy with everything, she smiled at you and stood up, hugging you lightly.
“Thank you!”
“Welcome, but you’ve reminded me I haven’t eaten all day so I’m going to grab some food, want anything?”
“Oh can you bring me some rice from that really nice place you go to?”
“Absolutely!”
You jumped up and tossed a hoodie on, pulling some shoes on and left your room only to go back to grab your car keys and leave.
Lydia had left just before you so you locked up the house and began to drive across the town to your favourite takeaway.
Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you glanced in your rear view mirror for a split second, and when you looked to the road again you slammed on your breaks.
Your car screeched to a halt and you quickly jumped out, rushing forward to make sure you hadn’t hit the person who just appeared in the middle of the road.
“Are you insane?!” You yelled.
You walked around the front of your car and furrowed your brows a little, looking around.
There was no one there, but you were sure that you had seen someone.
So, you did one last check and turned around, and the last thing you remembered was glowing blue eyes.
It was Noah who found you, he had a report of a car abandoned in the middle of the street, and he went to investigate and he just happened to see you in the edge of his headlights.
You were rushed to the hospital and into surgery, and he immediately called Stiles to tell your sister.
The whole pack were at the hospital, Stiles, Scott, Derek, Peter, Alison, Lydia, Noah and Melissa who had just finished her shift.
“Oh god.. we.. I.. I should’ve told him…” Lydia sobbed.
“You were trying to protect him..” Scott whispered.
“And now he’s dying!” Lydia snapped.
“Hey, hey he’s not dying. They said he’s doing really well, just another hour at most until they’re done.” Melissa said.
Lydia kept blaming herself and they did everything they could to try and reassure her.
At her request, one of the werewolves stayed with you at all times to keep you safe, mostly Derek or Peter.
And a few days later you woke up, in pain and groggy.
“Well hey.”
You looked to your side, brows furrowed a little.
“Mrs… McCall…?”
“Give me a second alright, don’t move.”
You gave a small nod and she did some checks on you before helping you slowly sit up and rested you against the pillows.
“The sheriff is actually outside, do you mind answering a few questions for him?”
You weakly shook your head and she brought him in.
“Can you tell me what happened that night?” He asked.
You opened your mouth and closed it again.
“I… glowing..”
“Glowing?” He asked.
“Glowing.. eyes…”
The two adults shared a look and nodded to you, and you told them what you could remember which wasn’t much.
Melissa left to call your sister and parents, and Noah stayed with you, sitting on the end of your bed helping you ease your nerves by talking to you.
You had to stay in hospital for another week and you were finally allowed to go home.
You didn’t leave your room much, you stayed inside it, and it’s what you were doing now, standing in front of your mirrored wardrobe staring at your bare chest, the deep, jagged, pink scars going across it.
There was a knock on your door, and you looked towards it to see Lydia walking in.
“Do they still hurt…?” She asked quietly.
You shrugged a tiny bit.
“A little I guess.”
Grabbing your hoodie you tossed it on, and turned to look at her.
She had tears in her eyes.
“Lydia… come here.”
You walked over and hugged her tightly, and she sobbed.
“It’s all my fault!”
“You didn’t hurt me, it’s not your fault.”
“No! No I should’ve told you straight away!”
You pulled away and frowned at her.
“It’s why I was asking all those questions! Why I come to you asking weird questions because I know you know the answers!” She sobbed.
You placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, hey tell me what’s going on? Why’re you blaming yourself?”
Lydia took a small breath and wiped her eyes.
“They’re real…”
You looked at her confused.
“Supernatural creatures are real…”
“Lydia you’re my sister, I love you most of the time, but did you hit your head.”
“No! I’m telling the truth! Just.. come with me.”
She grabbed your arm and dragged you to her car, and she drove you to a building you didn’t recognise.
She dragged you inside and you saw all her friends were stood waiting.
“Show him.” She said.
“Are you sure?” Derek asked.
“Show him please.”
They shared a look but nodded, Scott, Derek and Peter stood forward and you watched in horror as their eyes changed, faces changed.
Yellow, blue and red all staring at you, and you stumbled back into the door, dragging Lydia behind you.
You put yourself between them and her.
“They’re okay! They won’t hurt you!”
She slowly took you to the couch and they explained everything to you, and you were having a hard time processing it all.
But you just nodded along.
“So.. you’re all supernatural creatures…?”
“Me and Stiles aren’t.” Alison said.
You turned to Lydia.
“You’re… like them…?”
“No I’m a banshee…”
You just nodded your head and looked away.
“How can.. how can you feel so safe with them…?”
You mumbled.
Lydia reached out, placing her hand on your arm.
“They’re going to protect you I promise, you’re my brother, you’ve always been part of the pack.” She said.
“It was one of them that.. that did this to me…”
“It wasn’t them I swear, it was someone else we’re looking for them.” Stiles said.
You glanced at him.
“How can.. how can you feel safe with them..?”
“Because we’re trying to protect people.” He smiled.
You looked to your sister.
“I promise you, they have your back. We have your back. Okay? I promise.”
You looked at her, and glanced at the pack then turned back to Lydia.
You slowly nodded your head you weren’t sure what to think about all of this, but you trusted your sister so you wanted to trust her on this too
#teen wolf#teen wolf x you#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf x y/n#teen wolf imagine#Lydia Martin#lydia martin x reader#Lydia Martin x you#Lydia Martin imagine
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werewolf nancy is so personal to me because it’s about nancy’s need for control versus having none. nancy has two sides to herself; herself and the wolf. nancy’s always controlling her anger, reeling it in and never letting it show; the wolf does not care; the wolf is angry. very, very angry. releasing all of that pent-up rage that nancy keeps hidden away behind tight smiles and curt nods. werewolves are also like, the perfect metaphor for being gay so like, i feel like repressed lesbian werewolf nancy is…definitely worth exploring.
some werewolf nancy headcanons:
R A G E. (seriously, she’s angry. good for her.)
ok but can you imagine tiny little nancy wheeler as a giant bipedal werewolf? Both cool and terrifying.
she’s fast. like. even for a werewolf, she’s insanely fast. once she’s gone she’s GONE
robin reads to nancy when she’s wolfed out. It calms her down. nancy has a perfectly curated list of comfort books for this exact situation.
no, but like, robin is practically the ONLY one who can calm her down.
nancy shifts during the full moon, yeah, but it also depends on nancy’s temper. pissed off nancy is a wolfed-out nancy.
incredibly jealous nancy. incredibly protective nancy.
one time without realizing she even does it, nancy growls, and robin hears it and is like “...uh? was that?” and nancy is very red in the face and she’s just like “don’t.”
CLAWS.
werewolf nancy has incredibly good hearing. regular nancy has really good hearing, but now that she's a werewolf its insanely good. she can hear everything.
robin always has clothes ready for nancy after she shifts back; they’re usually a pair of pajama shorts and one of robin’s faded band tees. they swallow nancy, but it’s actually adorable.
“nance, this is gonna sound really weird and i’m sorry, but i have to know. do you have to get a rabies shot?”
nancy allows herself to feel more, especially anger, because of the wolf.
robin is the one who finds nancy after she turns for the first time and she is rightfully a little afraid, but the werewolf’s eyes look a little familiar, and its fur is a familiar shade of chestnut brown, and the way that it’s staring back at robin makes her realize one thing, this is nancy.
she’s also ridiculously strong. seriously, how in the FUCK is she that strong?
as much as i love werewolf angst, i do like to think that like, if robin is just sitting somewhere, reading, maybe by the fireplace, werewolf nancy will just come along and sit on top of robin. robin’s like, “hello? can i help you?”
#anyways#like i said#werewolf nancy is something so personal to me#werewolf nancy#robin buckley#stranger things#nancy wheeler#ronance#also feel free to send some asks! i'll answer them eventually lol#i don't know whether to tag this as ronancetober or not idk if this counts? but#u know what i will just in case it does#ronancetober#werewolf!nancy wheeler
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“Munson…what the fuck?! Put that down!”
“Chill out Sunshine I’m not going to eat it!
“You can’t eat it…”
“Ahh stop getting technical…eat it, suck it’s blood, same difference,” Eddie snuggles his nose into the cats fur with a grin, flashing a sharp fang at Billy. “It’s so cute I just wanted a cuddle, I forget how exciting it is up here compared to down there,” he sighs.
“Hey, you’ve got me down there!” Billy grumbles, dusting himself off (the portal from the upside down isn’t exactly clean).
“I do baby, I do, but you’ve gotta admit our one day of freedom up here is pretty fuckin sweet!” he puts the cat down, watches it as it sprints into the bushes.
“See it was shit scared of you Eds,” Billy throws his arm out in the direction of the cat.
“Aw California I didn’t know you were all soft on cats! Should be King of the witches not the ghouls” Eddie raises his hands wiggling his fingertips in the air.
“And you shouldn’t be King of anything you royal loser…” Billy grabs him by the collar and pulls him in the direction of the town “hmmm, wonder what Stevie will be when he dies?“ Eddie muses, as he shakes off Billy’s hand and falls into step beside him, then immediately regrets asking when he sees Billy’s shoulders bunch a little.
“Sorry sunshine, I shouldn’t have said that, I know it’s hard,” Eddie frowns.
“It’s just…we were so young Eds…it’s going to be years until ya know, and they only let us up here on Halloween so…” he says it to the ground.
“But then baby, it will be us three for the rest of our lives? No our undeadness? Think about that yeah?” Eddie squeezes his arm.
Billy huffs a laugh, let’s the smile of it stay “yeah, and it’s the day we get to see him”
“Sure is! Just need to find him!”
“Yeah and you need to not suck any blood…unless it’s Steve’s”
Eddie shudders at the thought, presses his tongue to the point of his fang.
“Hear me Munson?” Billy drawls.
Eddie gives his head a quick shake “Yesss, I only sucked that persons blood for like a second and it was ages ago, I was still getting used to the whole undead thing…besides you’re one to talk you literally smashed a rock with your fist last year!” Eddie presses an accusatory finger into the side of the ghouls head.
Billy’s eyebrow twitches, arm flexes, as he says “they were mocking me, I was just showin them what would’ve happened to their skulls if they’d kept going…”
“Mmhmm, yep and then when we’d both have inevitably been found out, lost our cool-ass titles and been banished to fuck knows where” Eddie tosses his hands in the air.
“Yeah well that’s exactly why I didn’t bash their skulls in” Billy stresses, as they approach the clearing, trees frame a street full of trick or treaters, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, zombies, “why’s no one ever dressed as a ghoul?,” Billy pouts as they step onto the street, the one day of the year they blend in seamlessly with the locals, “not as sexy baby,” Eddie sticks out his tongue “hey!” Billy gapes brow furrowing slightly.
“I’m sorry but it’s true, undead demon thing that loves hanging around graveyards vs sexy undead thing that can drink your blood sexily? No contest!” Eddie shrugs in a ‘what can you do about it’ kind of way.
Billy grumbles affronted “I’m sexy.”
“Yes you are darling trust me, but some of your loyal subjects,” Eddie shudders “not so much…and…” he’s interrupted by a sharp prod to his shoulder “oi, isn’t that your little nerd kid Dusty over there” Billy gestures to the porch of a house across the street where a kid wearing what looks like a potato costume stands.
Eddie frowns “it’s Dustin stop pretending you don’t know his name you big lug and,” Eddie looks properly “yeah, yeah it is! Potato’s an interesting choice but whatever.. So that means..”
“Steve’s probably nearby, sniff him out!!”
“Hey! I’m not a dog! I’ve just got insanely cool powers!”
“Ah stop getting technical dog, vampire…same difference,” Billy grins proud of his parroting, Eddie rolls his eyes and focuses slightly overwhelmed by the sheer number of scents mingling in the air, it takes him a moment but he catches the familiar rich scent of Steve, “got it” he mumbles, they keep their heads down, ensure they avoid Dustin’s eye-line as they head round the corner.
Steve is leant against a wall with his back to them. He jumps with a little yell when Billy leans in and says “a sailor pretty boy? That ain’t very scary,” his shocked expression morphs quickly into one of delight, his cheeks flushing red “hey! Yeah um would you believe this is actually my work uniform” he chuckles rubbing his palm over the back of his head, skewing his hat a bit to the right.
“No way Stevie, you’ve been hiding that cute outfit from us!!” Eddie flashes his fangs.
“Cute? It’s ridiculous!”
“I mean it is cute but we could go get it off” Billy rumbles, crowding Steve back into the wall.
“You haven’t seen the kids yet, I can go get…”Eddie cuts in “we were thinking maybe we just go back to yours? We’ll pop in and see the kids just before sun’s back up.”
Eddie’s dressed head to toe in black, hands covered in rings, a chain round his neck, his tongue runs across his teeth. Billy’s shirtless, thick thighs pressed into tight black jeans, his blue eyes blown wide, fists clenched like he’s trying very hard to hold himself back.
Steve’s doesn’t take long to decide.
…
Fangs graze gently at the skin of his nape, his breath hitches in anticipation, blood singing in his veins. God he craves this, can’t believe how long he has to wait for it every year. Eddie tongues the skin gently, the area tingles, and when he finally bites Steve feels euphoric, then he sucks and Steve groans. Eddie drinks and drinks until Steve’s aching and hard.
A whimper sounds from the corner, Billy’s enthralled, he sits hands pressed to the tops of his thighs, Eddie had told him to wait and enjoy the show for a bit.
Eddie lifts his head from Steve’s neck, locks eyes with their beautiful blonde and smiles softly, speaks with gentle command “Christ, Billy baby, you’ve been so good, come here, it’s about time we properly worship our King...”
For @a-redharlequin thank you for your creative prompt:
“it's spooky season! So Ghoul King Billy and Vampire King Eddie back from the dead and find King Steve <3 (harringroveson)”
I really enjoyed writing this thank you so much for taking the time to send a prompt I find them so fun!
And sorry it turned out to just be a lot of Billy and Eddie banter with a sprinkling of Steve, their undead bickering carried me away a bit 😂
#billy hargrove#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#fic#harringroveson#stilldie#steadily#metal sandwich#writing#harringrove#mungrove#they have too many ship names pls we need a consensus!#halloween#vampire#ghoul#strangerthings#sunshine and California are nicknames from fic if I stare too long and the authors were just spot on with them I love it
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TIMING: Before ‘Nightmares & Revelations’
LOCATION: In the forest near Prickly Pear Acres
PARTIES: Gael (@canis-or-cannotis-lycaon) & Monty (@howdy-cowpoke)
SUMMARY: Gael is back and one of the first people he wants to see is Monty. The two take a walk and reconnect but are rudely interrupted by a flock of keres.
CONTENT WARNINGS: none.
— —
The sensation of meeting up with friends was always a nice one. Perhaps more so to Gael because of the man’s sensitivity and tendency to form quick, strong connections with everyone he encountered, which he knew worked to his detriment sometimes now. But the reception of his coming back was overwhelmingly positive, which subconsciously scratched a small itch in the scientist. It was a desire to feel like maybe he had made an impact, or was at least remembered - one of the last requests he had made to Monty before leaving. The same Monty that he had just about knocked down in his enthusiasm to give the zombie a tight, warm embrace when he drove back out to the ranch after waiting on his doorstep like an excitable dog who knew that one of his best friends was on the other side.
Ha ha. More dog imagery. Gael had been trying to get out of that mindset, distancing himself from wolves, werewolves, associating too closely with them (with the exception of Alan). Not trying to be rude, of course, but even after regaining the knowledge that there was a werewolf parasite that had burrowed and grafted itself onto his physiology, he felt… different. And he’d received pep talks, words of encouragement, and an idea that he could learn to deal with it but Christmas had happened and that was the final straw for him. This thing inside him, the wolf he called “Lycaon” with mockery and tightly gritted teeth, was a part of him, not the other way around.
He was in control.
This was also all stuff he thought before, and admittedly wasn’t on his mind at all as the two men shared the aforementioned embrace and Gael suggested they take a leisurely walk in the woods nearby, as the weather was preferable and he had too much energy and enthusiasm to have been content sitting and sharing a cup of coffee. Not to mention it would’ve given Monty a brief break from the mayhem of the ranch, ever since those mysterious, yet maddening sirens made themselves known a few days ago. “Sorry, I know I just like… infodumped to you but yeah! That’s pretty much everything that happened.” He finished his explanation, carefully leaving the “Christmas Incident” out of his report. Everything else he had learned and experienced during his travels, including taking Ren to a bug-themed… theme park, was now relayed to the zombie who was as patiently attentive as ever to the rambling scientist.
— —
“Wow. It sounds like this was good for you!” At the very least it had supplied Gael with a break from the insanity of this town, which anyone could use, really. Monty had been admittedly very curious about what his friend had been getting up to while he was gone, finding his own experiences here in town to be… rather routine. As routine as Wicked’s Rest allowed for anyway. Well… unless you counted getting kidnapped by a Christmas devil.
That probably didn’t bear mentioning. He was fine, after all, and Teddy was… mostly fine, if not emotionally scarred by the death of their third companion in the process of trying to get out of there. He didn’t want to worry Gael with things that were already resolved.
“I’m glad you were able to get some time away, mi amigo,” he added with a smile, glancing over at Gael as they walked leisurely through the woods near the farm on paths well-worn by the horses. “Things here have been… interesting, but not so bad, I don’t think.” His grin turned a bit sheepish and he rubbed the back of his neck, letting his gaze wander to the forest floor. “I have been trying to coax a young wild catoblepas onto the trailer… Montezuma is having a hard time defending the herd on his own, since his brother died. We’ve lost a few sheep and cows to… ahh…” He waved a hand in the air, trying to conjure the right word. “... beasts. I do not know what sort.”
— —
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Gael replied lightly, returning Monty’s glance before he turned his gaze once more to the woods, finding himself annoyed with the thing inside him when he instinctively turned his head when he caught a brief scent or heard a distant noise of some animal minding its own business. Then again, was it Lycaon or was it him? “Never a dull moment in Wicked’s Rest and if there is, you know it’s like… wrong. Like something’s waiting to catch everyone off-guard.
“I’m sorry to hear Montezuma’s having a hard time, though.” He added, his expression growing pensive. “And I’m sorry that you’ve lost some animals to–” The words caught in Gael’s throat for a minute before he cleared it with a brief shake of his head. “...Beasts.” His eyes found Monty’s again, empathy filling them; he knew how close gentle-hearted Monty was to all of his animals and it hurt his heart to think that something like him, though arguably with less regret, might’ve been responsible for killing them. And, of course, it reminded him of when they first met.
He wondered if Dulce de Leche was still with them.
Then again, he also wondered if that was just another thing Gael was assigning sentimentality to, something that mattered more to him than everyone else. “Have you asked Kaden for any help on that?” He found himself asking. “Since he’s with animal control? Might be like one of those “beast whisperer” things?” When he asked that, he was actually asking if Kaden would have effective ways of killing the animals that hunted Monty’s livestock, but the chemist still didn’t know if Monty knew Kaden was a ranger… and he didn’t know if Kaden knew that Monty was a zombie.
— —
“The quiet before the storm, as they say,” Monty agreed, wringing his hands together for a few beats. He’d nearly forgotten the circumstances of their first meeting, it felt like a lifetime ago, and guilt flashed briefly over his features when he caught the expression on Gael’s face. Damnit, he hadn’t meant to draw a similarity there. There wasn’t time for him to beat himself up over it for long, thankfully, as Gael moved the conversation forward. Kaden’s name was brought up, and Monty gave his friend a curious look, his head cocked slightly to the side.
“Perhaps, but… if they’re not your average predators, I would be worried about putting him in danger. I know he knows about some of the creatures, and the people, but… knowing is different from taking them on. He is excellent with animals, no doubt.” Monty smiled. “But the things that stalk these woods…? I am not so sure.” He had no real reason to believe that Kaden had handled many creatures that weren’t mundane, even if he had heard of some of them—he’d known at least one hunter in his youth, so that wasn’t all that surprising.
The memory of that slayer in the bar in Tennessee made his skin crawl and he glanced away, trying to not let the flare of anxiety show. He was terrified of hunters, but he had good reason to be. Kaden was just a human, he had nothing to fear from them so it made sense that he could have known any number of them in his life—they seemed abundant enough, after all. He wondered briefly if Kaden still kept in contact with any other hunters, if he knew any other hunters besides that woman in the bar—no. No, there was no use speculating. That was Kaden’s business, and he already knew that his partner would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation. … it was a bit odd, though, wasn’t it?
As his mind tried to wander down hallways he’d roped off for his own sanity, the cowboy shook his head, pulling himself back to the present. “Ah well. That is just life out here, I suppose.”
— —
“That’s probably a good call,” Gael agreed with a nod of his head; Monty must not’ve known that Kaden was a ranger, which made him feel like a jerk for suggesting it in the first place. “There are things out here that–” His sentence faltered again and he shook his head once more, furrowing his brow. “Sorry. It’s still… hard, sometimes.” He sucked in a breath and tried again. “There are things out here that can down elephants. Some people were talking about a mushroom the size of a tree. This town is dangerous!” The chemist managed to laugh towards the tail end of his miniature ramble. Was that what he meant to say? Not entirely. Did it distract him from what he was thinking? No, not really.
It was strange, Gael realized. He was something of a nomad throughout his life, traveling from one city to another, staying at each for a few years before moving on to somewhere else. Making new friends, learning new information, forming new habits. But now felt… different, in a way that he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it had to do with the sensation that there was a veil over town, obscuring the unwitting public from the unnatural goings on underneath, hiding in plain sight. Before, he was part of that and now, he belonged under that veil whether he wanted to or not.
And he still really didn’t want to.
…Why was he thinking about this.
“Sorry, anyway! That was–” Whatever the rest of that sentence was going to be was abandoned as Gael felt a sudden rush of air force him back, accompanied by the sound of something heavy landing near him. Instinctively, he lifted an arm to cover his eyes from any incoming dust or debris, while another rush of air hit him as he did so. Then a smell greeted his nose, unfamiliar and not entirely pleasant and he grimaced. “What was that?” He asked before opening his eyes again.
— —
Gael was not wrong, of course, but Monty had always felt that people were far more dangerous than any beast acting on instinct. Even if immeasurably powerful, how could one fault a creature for following its evolutionary compulsions? It was the reason he never held anything that happened when Gael or Alan or anyone else he knew were transformed—they were not themselves, they were more animal than human at that point, and that required a certain level of sympathy. In his eyes, at least.
There wasn’t time to respond, however, as the sudden arrival of something he was certain he’d not heard coming kicked dirt up into their faces, blinding them for a moment. The zombie squinted through the debris only to see a figure sitting before them, and then another landed beside it. And then another. They were… birds? They had wings and naked heads like vultures, but their beaks were full of sharp looking teeth and they had arms and legs and long, rat-like tails. Monty gasped and stumbled backward, only to hear another land right behind him. He whipped around, stepping closer to Gael.
“I don’t—” He was cut off as the eagle-sized creatures suddenly leaped into action, beating their wings in a silent flurry of dirt and feathers as they lunged for them.
For Monty, specifically, it seemed. The creatures all but ignored Gael, swarming the zombie instead and biting at him with their toothy beaks, grasping his clothing with their claws and hanging their weight on him, slowly dragging him to the ground.
Now he was regretting what he’d been thinking about giving mindless beasts the benefit of the doubt, just a little.
Exclamations of surprise spilled from him, and he was thankful that he couldn’t feel the damage they were doing much at all, but seeing his black blood oozing and seeping from deep, numbed wounds was no less terrifying now than it had ever been before.
— —
Rubbing his eyes, Gael blinked them into focus to find that in just a few moments, they had gone from two friends taking a walk in the woods to suddenly surrounded by… Well, okay, he could process this. If he had to guess, they were… eagle? Vulture? Sized, but they were definitely not normal birds… unless normal birds suddenly evolved to include decidedly non-bird-like limbs and tails. And curiously, despite Gael’s annoyingly advanced hearing, they were unnaturally silent as they landed, almost as though their wings were mere apparitions. Instinctively, even if he hadn’t noticed that Monty got closer to him, he himself got closer to Monty, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
Then, in a flash, the flock of birdlike monsters rushed at them and Gael covered his face again, dropping to a crouch and curling into a ball as they… flew right past him? He wasn’t being pecked or clawed at, he could tell but he still heard the clacking of toothed jaws. He reacted before Monty’s voice reached him and in a moment, his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. “Uh HELLO??” He shouted at the monsters, closing the distance between himself and the flurry of feathers, dirt and leaves as they descended onto Monty. “Get off of him!”
He unceremoniously entered himself into the fray as the smell of stagnant blood hit his nose, naturally riling him up more as hands wildly grasped for some purchase on one of the creatures. It was proving difficult, however, as they moved so erratically and seemed to be completely disinterested in Gael, himself. If this had been a more controlled environment, he would’ve attempted to understand what was going on but as it were, as the scent of Monty’s blood filled his nose, his mind grew fearful though he didn’t know why. What was going on? What were these things?
What could Gael do about it?
“Monty! Are you okay??” He called to his friend through the chaos of birds clawing and biting at the zombie. “I mean, okay you’re probably not but what do we do??”
— —
His hat had been knocked from his head, which he was now using to swat at the bird things and at least keep them from chowing down on his face. “Kind of?!” he responded to his friend—it barely hurt, but he was aware that it needed to be stopped, obviously, or he’d quite literally be eaten alive. Unalive. Whatever. Not only that, but he could feel that gnawing hunger that’d been totally silent today start to rear its head in response to his body’s regenerative powers. That was never a good thing, birds or no birds.
“I think they’re trying to eat me,” he grunted, kicking and grabbing and throwing the creatures away from himself, barely able to make it a few steps before they swarmed him again. He didn’t want to kill them, but… “Follow me! I know a place I don’t think they will follow!” Still gripping the creatures by their throats and hucking them at the ground as they landed on him, Monty began an awkward, slow run off into the trees, toward one of the cave entrances he was aware of that was little more than a crack in the ground. The creatures squawked and screeched and hopped along after them, diving-bombing him as they went.
Nearly stepping into the crevice by accident, Monty held out an arm to stop Gael at its edge and took a long, sharp inhale. “Okay,” he breathed out, probably mostly in an effort to reassure himself that this was a good idea. They had just been talking about how much they didn’t like the underground… but the creatures were not relenting, so the zombie was forced to slip himself into the crack that was barely wide enough to fit him, disappearing into a narrow tunnel that dropped down into a small, dark cavern. His clothing hadn’t held up against the teeth and claws of those creatures, and he was a bleeding mess beneath the fabric and on his exposed skin, bites taken out of him here and there that were already beginning to heal.
The hunger in his belly grew more intense, and he held a hand to his stomach.
“Gael!” he called upward, sounding frightened. “If—if they aren’t after you, don’t come in here! I’m not—I need to—it isn’t safe!” His words had started to slur by the end of his warning and the cowboy doubled over on himself, trying his best to remain present.
— —
They really were like vultures then, if their blatant ignoring of Gael in favor of Monty was any indication. Not that the shifter liked that at all, regardless of what Monty was or what these things’ diets were. It could’ve been considered humorous, how they were just talking about creatures that might’ve posed a threat to someone like Kaden only for them to focus so solitarily on Monty but Gael didn’t think he could think of something less funny as the zombie, clothing torn and bleeding from multiple open wounds now, called that he had a place he could retreat to.
Surely, once at least the cowboy was inside, the infernal flock of supernatural birds would leave him alone, right? Gael didn’t know where this place was but he dutifully followed after, doing his best to swat at any of the birds that he could. Just a little further, surely, before Monty would take him to a hidden shack or some rough equivalent– but his heart sank when he was stopped from stepping into a sliver of the earth, small, black, evoking thoughts of claustrophobia and the confusion of getting lost. Trapped.
The scientist cast a worried look to the zombie, who only uttered an empty ‘okay’ before wriggling through the crevice, an opening barely big enough for Monty and too narrow for the broad shoulders or writhing muscle of the shifter. Despite that, though, Gael wanted to protest as the birds clawed at the crack in the ground to get to their prey. However, as Monty called up to him and the other man caught the slurred speech, he faltered. No, he couldn’t go in there with Monty. Monty was being forced under so the zombie infection could heal.
He needed brains. Or meat, at least. Coupled with how Gael’s heart sank hearing his friend in pain in that small dark cavern, he wordlessly staggered away from the flurry of avians, starting to undress as a quick plan was formed in his mind. Material was removed to expose skin, which was starting to pull on itself, contort, become covered in thick sable fur. Bones popped, joints cracked, his clothes were bundled and tossed to the base of a nearby tree. “Just… for a little while.” His own speech was slurred now, growling through a mouth with teeth falling out and being replaced by sharp canines. “For Monty.”
Transformation outside of the full moon was a relatively new concept to Gael, only having experienced in once or twice when he was… afraid. Afraid of being lost, of being abandoned or killed. He wasn’t afraid this time, not as his body contorted and extended behind the flock of birds that still grappled at the crevice, desperate for the man that was now alone in one of those damned caves, losing his mind. He wasn’t afraid. He and Lycaon finally shared something willingly.
Anger.
It was quicker than the full moon, that was for sure. And, for some reason, less agonizing. The scientist was replaced by the parasite that latched onto him, with long forearms, a messy tail, umber fur and a powerful bite force. Feeling pain radiating from his own body, only helping to fuel that anger, Lycaon’s amber eyes flickered to the unnatural birds and he sprang into action, colliding against the flock and effortlessly snapping one of them up in his jaws as they flew around in surprise, now confronted with wanting to get to the cowboy inside while now dealing with a large, lithe lupine.
— —
Wounds that would have taken months upon months to fully heal were repaired in minutes, and Monty’s undead hunger responded in kind, demanding sustenance for all the effort of keeping this vessel pieced together. He often wished he could just choose to heal slowly rather than face the oblivion that came with such an appetite, never able to remain in control despite every admirable effort made.
He wanted to tell Gael to run, to just get out of there. The thought of what could happen if he managed to crawl his way out of this hole in the ground tore him up inside, and he didn’t want his friend anywhere nearby, neither to witness it nor to be a victim to it. But his mouth could no longer form words, instead just pushing out guttural sounds that scared him. His mind was slower to let go than his body, and for a moment he was trapped—still awake, still aware, but unable to control himself. He watched as his hands grabbed at the rocky wall of the cave, more ashen than they’d been when he’d slipped down here, scrabbling for purchase. To the light. To the noise. To the meat.
No, don’t, he moaned, but all that came out was a long grunt. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, and he could feel the pull of the void at the back of his head, the base of his spine, dragging him into that inky abyss. His large eyes were wet with tears as he jerked his head back, staring up at the light that filtered down through the small crevice. The sounds of a shift met his ears and he growled, reaching for another rock and pulling himself higher. Shifting turned to fighting, a cacophony of violent sound, and Monty instinctively began to move faster. To the meat. To the blood. Feed, feed, feed.
He was gone now, his eyes turned milky white and glazed over with a lack of awareness. Muscles dragged him up the rock wall and into the narrow tunnel, higher and higher until his pale hand poked out of the crevice and grasped at its ledge with uncanny strength. Getting himself wedged up to his shoulders was no easy task, and once the zombie had one arm out of the hole, he became stuck. He probably would have been glad for that, if he’d had the ability to think for himself or feel emotion. Instead, he just waved that arm around stupidly, swatting at the birds that still divided their attention between their meal and the werewolf that was decimating them, unable to deal with one threat and unwilling to let dinner pass them by.
— —
This was exciting! There were so many birds! They tasted strange as his teeth sank into their mottled flesh, and it was unusual that their wings made no noise as they flapped about but that didn’t bother the Wolf too much as he wildly shook one of them in his mouth, an overgrown dog with a ratty toy. It was even more exciting because he wasn’t killing them immediately, instead tearing at their wings and attempting to pull limbs from the body. This wasn’t for food, this was for fun. The host had loosed the chain on purpose and Lycaon was taking full advantage.
He was enjoying the sport so much that he hadn’t noticed at first when they were joined by a human figure poking from a hole in the ground, smelling of blood and decay but also something different. The birds did, though, and their distraction to change their attacks to the human who was stuck just made Lycaon’s fun easier. Of course, part of him wondered what the human would’ve tasted like and it wasn’t as though it was going anywhere - indeed, it couldn’t even seem to pull itself out of the ground - but again, this wasn’t for food. Lycaon could hunt anything he wanted and some human stuck in the dirt wasn’t nearly as engaging as the flying creatures that now bombarded the human, their focus on one thing lost.
So he continued doing what he was doing, almost with a sense of simple-minded joy, burying his fangs into the body of another one, one he hadn’t touched before, one whose bones crunched under the bite force of his jaw when he tilted his head suddenly as though a high-pitched frequency had reached him through the haze of frenzied bloodsport. Feed. Lycaon landed from his spirited leap, the birdlike creature flapping in a panic as it tried to escape his locked jaw though he paid it no mind, neither did he acknowledge that it was attempting to flee. Feed. Amber eyes with their pinprick pupils looked over to the human who was still swatting at the birds that pecked, clawed and cut at it.
Gathering the bird he had a hold of in clawed hands to hold it still, Lycaon released his grip on wherever it was and in a swift motion, shattered its spine just below its ugly, bald head with his blood-caked muzzle. Then, without realizing why he was doing what he was doing, he hopped over to the human and dropped the now-dead bird in front of it, just within reach of that swiping arm (and resisting the urge to snap it in his mouth, too). Then, for another inexplicable reason as the two were surrounded by the flurry of broken, bleeding flock of birds that he ignored any passing injury from, he stretched his elongated arms in front of him in a bow, hind legs straight, his rear and wagging tail in the air.
Fun!
He jumped back with a yip before raising himself to his full height, leaning back and catching another passing bird with a paw. He broke that one’s spine, too and dropped it in front of the human. Then he ran into the brush for a second, circling around a few trees, clawing at the bark as he used them to gain momentum before zooming back and leaping for the flock and snapping up a third one. This one was for him, though, and he shook it, again like a toy before flinging it into the unknown and moving onto the next one.
— —
If he’d been mentally present in the slightest, Monty would have appreciated how effortlessly Gael the werewolf dispatched the offensive birds. As it was, all he cared about was trying to snatch them from the air himself, groaning stupidly as they bit and clawed at him, furthering his injuries and only sending him deeper into a mindless stupor. That is, until a dead one was dropped in front of him. Milky eyes lifted from the corpse to the werewolf that had left it there, and something small in the back of his mind felt… deja vu? He’d seen this before, hadn’t he? A wolfy creature dropping food at his feet, sating his vicious hunger, saving him from himself. That wolf had looked different, though. That wolf had had deep intelligence behind its eyes, the sort of understanding that he himself now lacked.
Acting on muscle memory, Monty reached for the corpse and dragged it closer. Another was dropped before him as he lifted it to his mouth, biting down on its neck while reaching for the second offering. He couldn’t eat very easily stuck like he was, though, so he started to wiggle himself out of the crevice in the ground until he dropped back into the cave below, his meal clamped tightly in his fist and jaws. His ankles cracked as he landed gracelessly, sending him toppling into the dirt and rocks, but he paid it no mind. His focus was solely on ripping the strange bird things to shreds, smashing their skulls open upon the stones and wrenching their small brains free. He was slicked with blood and viscera in no time, but the more he ate, the more his blank gaze came into focus.
Sitting back with a soft sigh, Monty went from eating like a starved animal to picking away at the best parts of the beasts with gentle fingers, though he still trembled from the ordeal. He was thankful that Gael couldn’t see him feasting like this, werewolf or not, for it was not a pretty sight.
Once he was feeling much more like himself again, the zombie got to his feet, ankles fully healed from the shattering impact with the ground, and tilted his head up toward the crack. He wondered how long it would take for Gael to shift back, since he didn’t have the kind of control over it that Alan did. He wasn’t sure if he could help, or if his presence would be a hindrance… only one way to find out. Climbing back up the rock face, Monty peeked his head out of the hole in the ground and scanned the scene of slaughter, not pulling himself out any farther until he’d assessed the situation as completely as he could.
— —
How much time had passed, he didn’t know. He was a creature driven by the light of the moon and her will. This was fun, to be sure, but it didn’t feel the same as those nights where he had nothing on his mind but the hunt.
The flock, with its numbers dwindling, had grown scattered and careless and Lycaon wasn’t sure how many he had maimed and killed before the frayed remainders of the flock ultimately decided that the thing in the cave wasn’t worth losing the entirety of the group. With unhappy screeches and irritable clacks of their chipped beaks, they cawed and snapped at the wolf as they flapped their battered, eerily silent wings, collected what corpses hadn’t been offered to the hole in the earth and departed, though not without some challenge from the shifter who still sprang and clawed and snapped at their gangly bodies.
It wasn’t until they were safely too high for him to reach on his own that Lycaon’s fun frenzy had diminished enough that the wolf finally stopped moving. Panting, licking the blood from his muzzle, Lycaon padded around the destroyed clearing; feathers, pieces of flesh, and fur littered the muddy ground. Blood was sprayed on the grass and small drifts of snow that lingered around the bases of the trees. The wolf himself was caked in earth, mud, blood and lacerations from his reign of anti-avian terror. Speaking of, the animal sat down in the midst of the wreckage and started absently licking at the wounds he could reach - they weren’t healing.
He was made aware of the injuries as they lingered on his sable-and-cream-furred body, only given to him through his interference getting between the birds and their intended goal of the human in the crevice but they still irritated him. Why were they still here? A frustrated huff escaped him as he sat there attempting to clean himself off when he heard movement. Instinctively, his ear twitched before his head jerked up in the direction of the sound to see the human from before emerging from the hole in the ground.
In an instant, the wolf was back on his feet despite his protesting body (which, now that he had stopped moving, made its soreness acutely known) and the gap between the monster and the human had closed alarmingly quickly. A tongue lolled out of an open maw but something kept Lycaon from mindlessly biting into the human in the heat of the moment. Don’t. The wolf gracelessly crashed into the ground, sliding the rest of the way until his nose was less than a foot away from the opening, where he blinked stupidly.
— —
The feeling of having seen this before was more clear now in his mind’s eye. A silver and gray beast loping through the pasture, paying no mind to the livestock that gave him a wide berth as he carried something in his jaws, headed for the main house on the property. The farm hands that were awake did not try to stop him, nor did they call out in alarm. He was given free passage to the house, where his clawed feet carried him swiftly. Monty waited on the porch, carving something in his hands and glancing up at the werewolf that descended upon him, offering a warm smile.
“My friend,” he spoke in their shared language, “It’s good to see you unharmed.” The moon shone full and bright in the sky, the reason for this transformation, but an opportune night all the same. The werewolf stepped up onto the porch, the wooden slats creaking beneath his weight, and he dropped the upper half of a body near Monty’s chair. The zombie’s smile grew somber, and he nodded. “Thank you, Alan.” It was food for him, food for everyone on this farm—rationed carefully, mixed with less conspicuous vittles to keep them all going, to keep them from violence. What remained of the person on his porch was, no doubt, a hunter that had gone after Alan. That was their agreement, their pact. And Alan, though massive in size and covered in fur, was still Alan. A skill learned over time that afforded the zombie a friendship not fraught with danger—to himself, anyway. Alan protected him, he felt safe with the werewolf. Even now, as the beast lay down on his porch, capable of ending his unlife with one bite but feeling no desire to do so.
He was still Alan.
And this could still be Gael.
Monty rose slowly from the crevice, knowing that it was a dangerous thing to do. He stopped once his arms were free, resting them on the ground between them and staring into the werewolf’s eyes.
“I know you are in there, amigo. I know you can hear me. And I know you can… you can control this.” It would take work, lots of work, and Monty didn’t like the idea of asking the man to do it alone. So he held out a hand, the other arm tucked protectively against his chest, and waited. “Remember when you and I rode up into the mountains? When I showed you my favorite spot, where you could see all the town and the sea beyond it?” It was one he carried with him fondly, and one he had re-lived over and over in his mind after Gael had left town.
— —
Wild golden eyes stared fervently at the movement of the human. It was slow, deliberate. His nostrils flared as they took in the various scents of the human - decay. Rot. Blood from the birds. Wood and musk. Lycaon’s hackles were raised in hungry anticipation, feeling the muscles tensing and rippling underneath his sable fur. His mouth hung open, saliva-slicked teeth shining in the light that filtered through the trees above them. His blood matted in small sections on his quivering body as he stood at the ready. He was tired, but ever-vigilant and though the man smelled of rot, he wasn’t picky. He wasn’t hungry, but he wasn’t picky.
And then the human started speaking.
Amber and umber locked together in a clash of wills. And nothing the human was saying meant anything to Lycaon, who… didn’t attack the human. No, he didn’t understand what the human said but something inside him was… unsettled. Resistant. He opened his mouth wider as a growl rumbled out of his bloodied-filmed throat before he took a step back, breaking eye contact by shaking his head. Something buzzed inside him in response to what was being said, but he didn’t know what it was. He growled again, before huffing and his intense gold eyes snapped back to the human.
What was going on? His gaze drifted to the outstretched hand of the human before returning to the stare. Give it back. Lycaon snarled in protest, but not at the human. Not the human outside, anyway. Give it back. There was a sensation, a memory. Flashes of a horse. A fire. The night sky painted with stars. A friend. The scent of cows. The images of a farm. This forest was familiar. This human was familiar.
Give it back.
Lycaon lowered himself into a crouch, his ears flattening themselves against his large head as he whined. Long tail sweeping the ground slowly, he pulled himself along until his nose met the outstretched hand where it took in the scent of rot, of familiarity from the monster inside him. Briefly, with more uncertain whining, he licked the blood off the human’s hand before he laid on the forest floor next to the human to rest. For just a little bit. He’d take it back once he was better. Once his bones didn’t ache, his flesh wasn’t burning with superficial wounds that didn’t heal quickly enough. There was nothing to hunt here, not anymore, as he breathed deeply. Bones started to crack and pop, muscles spasmed and his keen amber eyes fluttered closed, never removing themselves from… Monty. That was the human’s name.
Gael had made sure that Lycaon knew that, if nothing else. The pain the two were experiencing had been worth it. Monty was speaking coherently. A thinking man, recalling a memory once he had returned from wherever he went when his own demon took over. Reaching through to get to him as he was curled into the subconscious of the wolf’s mind. He’d never been communicated to before while Lycaon was the one with the body, the fear of what the wolf could and would do keeping him away from anyone it could hurt with reckless abandon. But Monty had.
And thus the transformation worked in reverse. It probably seemed less painful, but it was also slower, shedding fur in clumps, skin grafting over itself to accommodate a shrinking skeletal structure. Whines turned into grunts of very human pain as canine teeth littered the ground. And soon, though he wasn’t sure how soon since he’d somehow never recorded the time it took to transform, Gael was left on his back on the chilled forest floor, shivering yet sweating as brown eyes stared up at the sky. Only the deeper abrasions and lacerations from Lycaon’s bird hunting were left, the rest of which having healed during the shift.
“Are… you okay?” He asked, breathless, the creak of pain in his voice as he forced himself to crane his neck, looking upside down at Monty.
— —
His eyes were wide as he watched the whole thing unfold. The creature seemed at odds with itself, and Monty could only guess that that meant Gael was fighting for control. He wasn’t intimately familiar with what it was like, because he was never present when his hunger took over. There was no amount of begging or pleading that could reason with the senseless need to feed once it had begun, and the man was always buried deep, so deep he sometimes forgot who he was.
But Gael had seen to it that he didn’t remain trapped, guiding this other part of himself to do the things that the werewolf who had protected him for years did. It was an amazing leap in the right direction, and for that, Monty was grateful. He started to pull himself out of the crack in the ground once the transformation began, getting stuck part way through and struggling for a bit before finally getting himself the rest of the way free. That was when Gael spoke to him, looking at him from where he lay on his back, and Monty couldn’t hide the worry in his expression. “I’m fine, are you okay?” he countered, shrugging off his jacket as he scooted over to Gael on his knees, draping it over his friend for both modesty and slight warmth. He pressed a hand to the other’s face, shaking his head. “Thank you. You—well, thank you. Let me get your clothes.” He’d noticed them scattered in a small pile while pulling himself out of the ground, getting to his feet to go fetch them now. He was quick about it, returning to his friend and helping him sit up, fretting over the wounds he still saw on the man’s body and knowing they needed to get him back to the house and on the mend.
It wasn’t until he noticed the shaking of his own hands as they helped Gael redress his torso that Monty realized he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. He was thinking about what could have happened without really realizing it—how close he’d come to being stuck down in that hole, or biting his friend… what would even happen if he bit a werewolf? He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out. Stopping and taking a deep (albeit unnecessary) breath, the zombie tried to calm his spiraling thoughts.
“I’m so proud of you,” he offered, genuine in his words. The shift had been allowed, evidenced by the unripped clothing that’d been removed in earnest. And Gael’s return to his humanity had been fairly swift, commanded when he knew that things were safe again. Allowing his friend some modicum of privacy out here in the open woodlands, Monty turned his back to him and instead reached for a handful of the snow that still clumped around the base of a nearby tree, melting it in his hands and using it to scrub away some of the blood on his fingers and face. “That… was a huge breakthrough, no?”
— —
If he were a better man, he would’ve helped Monty get out of the crevice - one of Gael’s first thoughts when he came back was worry that Monty would’ve gotten stuck in one of the places that the two of them hated. He wanted to move, he needed to move, but his limbs felt like iron weights, in a state of mild paralysis as he always was the morning after the shift. He felt guilty, like he should’ve been doing more, as the cowboy squirmed out of the small crevice that wouldn’t have fit Gael anyway. He was thankful, for what it was worth, that Monty seemed physically fine, though.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Catching the look of worry on the zombie’s face, Gael smiled; tired, but easily reaching the corners of his eyes. That’s all that mattered to him, really, even if he could already feel guilt bubbling in his gut accompanied with the nausea of whatever Lycaon had swallowed during his frenzy. Monty helped sit him up, which Gael did his best not to seem too needy about (this seemed awfully familiar) and he took the opportunity as Monty was flitting about gathering his clothes to look around at the wreckage - feathers, Lycaon’s sable-and-cream fur, teeth, blood, large claw marks in the base of a nearby tree. What had happened?
When Monty came back and helped him put his shirt on - something that shouldn’t have been so difficult but the full brunt of the aches, pains and wounds Lycaon had “lovingly” left for him were obvious, now - Gael both noticed his hand’s shaking and that though the man was liberally covered in blood, it was all old, stale; he wasn’t actively bleeding, nor did he seem to be injured in any way, he was able to confirm. Now, mentally, on the other hand…
Mentally, even though Monty had said that he was proud, that this was a good breakthrough but Gael could feel the same sensation that was in his stomach rising into his esophagus and he found himself trying not to panic. “I’m… sorry.” He apologized first, in between grunts of labor as he scraped the dried blood and mud from his body as best he could and started to dress himself. Clumsy, with quivering hands and pauses to realize that he was accidentally finding new injuries. Fortunately, no bones seemed broken.
“I-I got scared. I saw that you were being attacked and then you fell into that cave and I couldn’t… do anything so I thought that…’ He faltered as everything tumbled from his mouth. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? What happened?” It didn’t feel like a breakthrough; it felt like a crutch, like Gael the person wasn’t good enough so he had to risk the wolf doing what he wanted without losing himself for God knew how long.
— —
“Sorry?” He waited until it sounded like Gael was done shuffling around with his clothes to turn and look at him, appearing… bemused. “Sorry for what? For protecting me?” Monty knew Gael still had a long way to go in accepting himself for what he was, and he shouldn’t press the matter too firmly at a vulnerable time like this—so instead of correcting him, the cowboy only parroted him. “No, he did not hurt me,” he assured his friend. “He went after the birds. Fought them off until they decided that they’d had enough. The ones he killed, he dropped for me.” There was a pregnant pause, and Monty placed a hand on Gael’s leg. “You told him to do that. I know you think you have no control when you are shifted, but you do. You did. You are getting better at it… Gael, this was a good thing. It is what Alan would have done. You protected me, you fed me, you made sure I was okay before you put away your advantage.” So much for not correcting him. “And you put it away! You did that, mi amigo. This is why I am proud, ¿entiendes?”
He might have been coming on too strong, and so he let out a soft sigh, maneuvering himself to be a crutch for Gael as they stood up. “It is okay to be afraid. But you did what you had to do, you couldn’t have gotten rid of those things any easier than myself. Now come on, let’s get you back to the farmhouse.” He made sure his friend was stable before beginning the trek back the way they’d come, stopping to pick up his hat that he’d dropped along the way. Plopping it back onto his head, he gave Gael a sideways glance and a somewhat cheeky grin. “Say… do you think this makes us even?”
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Sorry for arguably insane rant. I think it's also, and I do not mean this disparagingly per se, that a lot of fic is being written by teenagers. I've read stuff about characters (who did not go to Azkaban and who are not werewolves) going grey at twenty-three. A crumb of research, please. And people who write things set in Britain, but it's clearly written by an American not arsed to research if we use dollars or not. Does my head in. I care about wolfstar a lot, and I care about Sirius Black a lot - from the moment the third book came out I loved him - and as someone who grew up in a family with abhorrent views, got out, got better.. his story resonates. And people are wrecking it. Not sure why I am saying all this. Thank you for listening.
now i do have opinions on this SO
i am a teenager, i’m 17, and i write fic (mostly oneshots but) and i’ve read a lot of fic from other teenagers that i’ve liked. a lot of us are good writers, a lot of us put a lot of work into it and others not so much. it’s all fine because we’re all just having fun.
what i think is a problem is the attitude i’ve seen on tiktok about adults writing fic. i’ve seen a lot of vids and comments about how it’s weird when adults are in the fandom or how it freaked them out when they found out one of their favourite fics was written by a 30+ year old. which is really odd and kinda sad to me because do they not know adults have interests too? i think if all our fanfiction was written by teenagers we would be missing out on a whole world of experience and knowledge that a group of teenagers simply cannot have because we’re young. even if we research a bunch about what it’s like at university or in a different country or in a certain career there is going to be stuff we will miss because we simply haven’t experienced it. and it just makes me sad that so many of us seem to have this idea that we have to abandon what makes us happy when we grow up and that’s simply not true
and yes i understand your frustrations with sirius’ character and what’s being done with it a lot, i’m sure i have a lot of the same frustrations. i love sirius he’s my favourite and remus is a character i relate very very heavily to and i hate that people have twisted them so much because now you’ll get attacked for portraying them in a certain way even though that’s literally their canon personality
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Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 5
Wednesday x Enid
AO3 link to full work
End of the semester
My phone vibrates again, stupid thing, never stops going off.
I should probably thank Xavier, but I know he had other motives for the gift.
Also, it has given Enid a continuous and direct line of communication in which she never ceases to use. Daily texts, 3am TikTok’s, weekly facetimes, it’s agonizing.
We haven’t spoken on the night of the movie, but she never runs out of other topics to drone about. Besides a few stolen moments of glances and brushes of our hands she hasn’t said a word. I have begun to think I imagined the whole event.
The only thing keeping me aware that I haven’t gone insane is that I can remember the feel and taste of her lips pressed on mine, that and the hope that going insane would be more enjoyable than this existence of dull uncertainty.
More buzzing, this time not from Enid but that pesky unknown contact, too cowardly to admit themselves. It is interesting to have a stalker, a constant unseen eye following my every move. They keep me apprised to my own interactions by sending more photos of me to myself every few days.
At first it was intriguing but now I am beyond bored of this charade. Any attempt to get information from them has been met with silence. I have yet to tell anyone but thing, and he only discovered by snooping, I should have broken some fingers after that stunt, but he begged and having him in my debt works in my favor.
Enid has invited me to visit her in San Francisco for two weeks and I couldn’t resist the temptation and the chance to see what it is like to literally be raised by wolves.
Mother and Father’s excitement when I told them was disgusting enough to nearly change my mind. But instead, here I am on my way to the train station, I refuse to be surrounded by idiots trapped for two hours on a plane, a decent torture, when I can take a three-day train with my own cabin, giving plenty of time to work on my next instalment of my book. Knowing Enid, I will be left no time to write while I am there.
Enid is waiting for me with her parents when I step onto the platform.
After some polite introductions we are off to their house. Enid told me it’s out of the city with a huge yard and near a forest, typical for a family of werewolves.
She warns me that her 5 older brothers are all going to be home and that they are even more obnoxious than they act at school. As I suspect, the house is fairly overcrowded and messy. Not an overwhelming amount of color, that is until Enid opens her bedroom door.
As the only girl she has her own room. Small, almost like it used to be a walk-in closet turned bedroom, but the walls.
I hold back a gag, bright pink and green smear hit you right in the face.
There is color everywhere. Not a single surface is any shade of black. She motions me over to the pulled-out cot and apologizes saying she will sleep on it, and I can have her bed. Not a chance.
After setting up my stuff Enid pulls out a black blanket still in its bag.
“I got this for you, you know, so you had something dark to use.”
I smirk and accept the blanket, taking it from her, my hands right on top of hers, I look up and she is already looking at me a small smile hidden on her face.
“I’m really glad you’re here Wednesday.”
“Yes, well, I couldn’t take your incessant begging any longer.”
Enid giggles and that old wave of nausea comes rushing back, hitting me almost as hard as the paint colors. A sharp knock at the door and Enid quickly drops her hands and steps away from me.
“Girls, dinner is ready, come eat.”
By the time we get down to the dinning room the boys have already dug in and are throwing food at each other.
“Sorry, meals are kind of a madhouse around here.”
“It’s fine, and I assure you having meals with my aunts at the asylum have prepared me for almost anything.”
“Wednesday, Enid, come sit over here. It’s so hard to hear anything of the boys and their ruckus.”
“So, Wednesday, tell us about yourself.”
“Someone once said I have an obsession with all things dark and creepy. That sums me up better than I dare try.” I sneak a small glance at Enid as she tries to stifle a laugh.
“Yes, Enid has told us about the events of this last semester-“
At this I look up and catch Enid’s eye as she gives me a small head shake and looks back at the table- “and I have to admit I am not overly thrilled with the danger you have put our daughter in, but we have decided to look past that all seeing as she is mostly alright and that it finally got her wolf out. We’re so glad that Enid is finally able to participate in our family traditions.”
Enid’s mother grabs her chin and smiles at her with a weary look.
“Yep, I finally get to fit in with my own family…great.”
Enid avoids making eye contact with everyone and uncomfortably leans away from her mother’s grasp. Wolfing out is all she wanted to do, to be a part of her family pack, why does she look so miserable at her mother’s feeble attempt at joy.
#wednesday addams#enid sinclair#wednesday x enid#wenclair#wenclair fanfic#slow burn#woe is mine and I am woe#jenna ortega#emma myers
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sorry i disappeared, an ice storm knocked out pretty much the whole city’s power for the past few days :(
@maturation yayy i’m glad you like her!!! i was worried she would be so abrasive in the first meeting that no one would like her at all, but i hope i made it clear enough that there’s more to her than meets the eye (and casper already sees that too). i actually wrote THREE different versions of that scene with varying degrees of brashness, trying to balance her true personality vs. the way she acts around strangers vs. the way she acts around strangers who she dislikes (lol sorry casper) and eventually this is what i came up with. i’m still not 100% happy with it but it’s okay because you’ll see more of who she is in time!! i just love her so much, i want to do her justice 😭
okay this made my jaw drop fjksjdsjdsj i agree with all these except i should warn you that finn is going to fuck you up, sorry... he may be small but he fights soooo dirty :’) and coco’s best defense is her intimidating aura; in reality, she’s all bark and no bite!!
oooh interesting!! that’s not exactly it, but it’s a really good guess! (i did consider this angle because i wanted to draw parallels between casper and danny, but i didn’t want to repeat basically the same story, and i felt that would be too similar)
my boobs are so small i sometimes forget most people’s can’t just like.. float in air fjksjds but yeah she’s the type of person who goes outside in pajamas & no makeup or she’s going full glam with boob contouring and all. but either way she’s really good at getting ready quickly. it’s been her job to look as appealing as possible for 5 years now, so i imagine she has tons of beauty tricks up her sleeve!
@bitchyybabyy400 if i did a cry count it would insanely high jfkjsds i don’t have a fully body sobbing kind of cry very often, but i swear i tear up about something every day and then i move on really quick, but yeah i’m an emotional person and that’s okay with me tbh :’) nothing wrong with crying! it just means you feel things deeply
yeah :((
@miujnk omg thank you so much, this was a really kind message to wake up to 🥺 i have so much fun adding extra details and stuff to my story, so the fact that anyone else enjoys reading them is awesome!! 💖💖
😭😭😭😭😭😭
thank you!! i’ve always loved creative writing. even when i was a little kid i used to write my journal entries from imaginary people’s points of views rather than my own, and then when i got older i started writing fanfiction because that was the most accessible / easiest type of writing to get into. and then when i found out simblr existed, i joined so i could share my gameplay, not so i could write a story, but my love for writing kind of seeped in anyway and it wasn’t long before i started adding more detail, fleshing out the characters, and slowly building up a plot. i never expected to be around for this long, but now i really can’t imagine my life without frozen pines ;-; even after i finish it someday and move on from simblr, i know it will always stick with me because my experience here has been so great and i’ve never felt this passionate about a story in my life 💖
omg since werewolves?? that’s awesome, i really hope that means this will be a higher quality than most packs have been lately!
i made a pinterest board for myself if that’s what you mean? you can find it here :)
#this has been the month from hell lmao but things are getting better#asks#anonymous#nonsims#brandi answers#maturation#bitchyybabyy400#miujnk
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1, 3, 6-8, 13, 16, 20-22 (didn’t think of a Thing to ask abt so go wild!!) (sorry if this has sent several times my app keeps crashing <3)
1) the character everyone gets wrong
oooh another one of this question lemme think of another one to complain about…. um. ty blackthorn…. i know you don’t know him but you should have a basic level of familiarity with his sherlock holmes swag and necromancy realness and ghost guy slay like. just based on my posting… i don’t like fandomy interpretations of him that make him like. soft and cutesy and uwu whatever like that boy is a huge fucking cunt he’s the worst… he’s a supervillain in training it’s ridiculous stop calling him your soft little baby or whatever the hell…. like you sound insane not even cassie is babying him like that get serious
3) screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr
i’m saying this cuz i know you were there too so you’ll get it but literally the 2021 pre s4 era of bylertheorism posting was so awful fr….
6) which ship fans are the most annoying?
wow see prev response….. no but like i’ll give a real answer. um idk i already complained about a few things but i’m gonna pull out a nicheish one due to the fact i saw a sofia wylie tiktok today and it made me think about hsmtmts. um i think ricky and gina shippers ruined everything sacred about that show and tim federle needs to die for the crimes he’s committed against me for them. this is also true about jiara but i’m beyond caring about obx and hsmtmts is like. THE show that got me through summer 2021. it was so rough oh my god. ej and gina were all i had. and now i don’t even have them anymore we should all kill ourselves. not to be a person that cares too much about ships. idk you had to be there maybe. and by there i mean like. you had to be me i guess
7) what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?
damn speaking of outer banks. jj. that boy should kill himself i don’t even care. or jesper shadow and bone. i promise i’ll like him more when i read about him but as a netflix original comic relief man…. i just can’t get behind him. also that actor was in a movie i hated so he should have to do like. 100 hours court ordered community service picking up trash in parks. that’s just one girl’s opinion
8) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about
can i talk about my shadowhunters. ok well i’m going to. it’s like sorry about your mental illnesses or whatever but i don’t think projecting them onto kit herondale is necessarily the way to go babes. he exists in a fantasy universe where he can put a little tattoo on his body and instantly gain speed, the kid hangs out with werewolves and his mom can do magic. i don’t think he is taking adderall. plus shadowhunters can’t take medication anyway so L + ratio + i can tell you’re either 16 or the most annoying adult alive. sorry if you’re 16, i promise when you stop being 16 you will feel better about life. like fandom lovessss to headcanon him with the most boring shit imaginable. oh you headcanon that this character who lives in a universe where MAGIC IS REAL has adhd? that’s cool i headcanon that he’s a virgin but makes up elaborate lies about it so none of the bad guys who are constantly after him can use him as a virgin sacrifice. i just made that up but it’s still more fun than being like ohh this character is training to be able to kill demons but the most important thing in his life is remembering to take his medication!! like booo 👎 nobody wants to read about medication in fantasy…. unless it’s like some sick ass herbs and potions like my buddy gaius makes. whatever.
13) worst blorboficiation
can i say will herondale. you know what don’t even worry about it. i’m gonna say tom holland spiderman. i don’t engage with literally any of that but i am an internet user in this day and age so it is unfortunately thrust upon me. sorry to that man but i hope peter parker dies goddamn. today’s writers just don’t hate their protagonists enough they always wanna keep ‘em around as long as possible it’s insane. arthur conan doyle had the right idea i think. like kill that dude!!
16) you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)
i hateeeeeee fandom himbo characterization. ESPECIALLY. when it comes to my beloved arthur bbc merlin. he is not. a himbo…. we should all kill ourselves.
20) part of canon you found tedious or boring
no offense to cassandra clare’s infernal devices but. i’m so so sorry tessa i love you forever it’s just. well.
21) part of canon you think is overhyped
i’m just gonna say barchie. can’t fucking stand this season sorry abby that i made you watch this show only for its final season to be a flop ass barchie season.
22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
i think we all need to talk more about how in city of fallen angels clary had a pink cell phone. that was a nothing detail i just think about it a lot and i didn’t know what else to say here.
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okokok, so I know you’re not in SnK anymore (i respect that bc i fell out of it in 2015 and came back like a couple months ago lmao) but i just want you to know I’m so glad I’ve found and read your fics. Good Enough to Eat is like my fucking ereri bible, every ereri fic i read I’m like :// “but would GEtE!Levi do this?” LMAO really when i finished reading every single one of ur snk fics i audibly groaned bc i thought that now i have to wade through the piles of really shitty ereri fics on the tag that have insane kudos (and I’ve already reread GEtE, which is my utmost favorite of ur ereri fics, twice already)
I do know teen wolf though (seen every episode) but like you’ve said to other people, i fell out of it and don’t feel the urge rn to come back but when i do (and who knows when that’ll be, a couple months or years from now? I’ll circle back eventually), I’m immediately hitting the books with ur long list of fics for that fandom!
and reading ur reaction to the plot of SnK is so funny to me bc that’s exactly how I reacted when i came back to half the people dead and other mind blowing shit like eren having a brother lmao! Frankly i wanna watch it (i only saw season 1 bc that was all there was at the time) but i think I’m gonna stop at season 3 and pretend like the plot didn’t do a 180 and start flying off the map bc I’m not crazy about the end game plot lol also mainly bc season 3 levi gives the same energy as the exact way u write levi it’s so comforting
wow this was a very long ask I’m so sorry but i just felt like i had to say something after i tried to do the walk of shame back to the general ereri tag and felt miserable, truly i love your writing so so much i feel like i could trust heart and mind with ur writing and i wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not I’m gonna like reading a fic, bc if it’s yours i know i will. I hope you’re doing well these days and that ur have a blast with Derek and stiles :)
You are so, so sweet, omg ;~; Thank you so much! Seriously, I really appreciate it, and I'm so glad you liked GEtE!!! It was so fun to write (and honestly what made me move from SnK to TW so whoops? lol Turns out I like writing about Werewolves HAHAHA!) Seriously, you're so sweet, thank you so much!! 💕💕
Awww, that means a lot to me, thank you! I know a lot of people have fallen out of TW, both because it ended and because of HOW it ended (and the dumpster fire that was the movie recently) but idk, I like the characters. I never even saw past season 4, so I just have fun with it haha. But totally understand the falling out of it. If you ever do come back, I hope you know there's tooooons of new TW stuff out there from so many amazing new creators to enjoy :)
WAIT EREN HAS A BROTHER?! Omg when tf did that happen??? Did he knows? Is he a half-brother? Was he hidden in the basement?! IS THAT WHAT IS IN THE BASEMENT?!?!?! Man, SnK... the series that keeps on giving me explosions in the brain. Wow. Well. I don't even know who all is alive or dead anymore tbh haha. They could all be dead by now and I'd never know |D Oh wellll... But thank you ;~; That's amazing to hear about S3 Levi, thank you so much!!!
You are just the sweetest bean, thank you so, so much. For real, this ask was lovely, you are lovely, and this was so kind. I appreciate you so much, thank you!! <3<3<3
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I forgot to add. You don't even need to follow the original storyline, your oc/story can just take place in that universe. Use your imagination and have fun with it. (It doesn't have to be canon).
Write something you haven't seen others write about or write something that you want to personally read. Do or read something that inspires you, you can even pick a topic for that week and brainstorm ideas or create dot points of the first things you think of at the top of your head (about the topic) and then expand on it, go wild. (This could help if you have writers block.)
For example you can use hogwarts au's & turn it into a death eater au, you don't have to stop it at being students. You can turn camp half-blood au's into just a demi-god au (research greek mythology, they have lots of history/stories, you can base your fic/storyline about or around them). Maybe even base your story around your favourite anime/movie or series 🤷♀️. Or maybe even write a cafe/bakery, band, dancer, sports (boxing, volleyball, basketball, etc) or even a manager au (depending on what job you want then to specialize in). You can even write something about a popular kid and nerd or something similar.
You can even use soulmate au's, those are rarely seen these days too. Example the oc's soulmate is a criminal 🤷♀️. You can even combine different au's and create new ones. Like the oc can be apart of the mafia & their soulmate is a detective (mafia/detective + soulmate au). They can even be a hacker.
Add horror, thriller, mystery, illnesses (please research it if you want to use it tho & add trigger warnings for readers) or even fantasy elements (fairies, witches, werewolves, vampires, etc). You can make an au with these already. Your oc doesn't even have to be a hero they could be a villain, antihero/femme fatale or protagonist.
You can also use idol au's by making the oc a hairstylist/hairdresser, makeup artist, staff member, photographer, a director or producer. One of my favs is by @bbugyu's dlst & her food vlogger au Classic.
The oc can also be a chef, ceo, youtuber/streamer/gamer and their s/o can be an idol or a cafe worker or it could be the other way around, switch it up 🤷♀️. Maybe they're doing the same job & they're rivals or lovers from the beginning of the story.
Basically they can be anything you want them to be. Example Oc & s/o are both gamers and they're lovers from the beginning of the story or they could be in rival teams, maybe enemies to lovers, you can make it slowburn. It depends on which direction you want it to go in. You can even do something like @joyofkinoko's Budget Ghostbusters or @soobnny's Twitch Rivals.
Anyways these are just examples of things I don't see a lot anymore or it's just rarely done. Just for the record I can't write to save my life & this is also a way for me to recommend other blogs 🙃. Sorry for ranting & for how long this was (sorry if there's mistakes/doesn't make sense)!!💕
oO yeah ok these are some pretty interesting ideas 👀 i would be so down to write some of these but alas... my wip list is now taller than johnny on stilts so
also short rant ahead, i just wanted to take this opportunity to express some things 💀
i think the issue with mixing and matching tropes/genres/aus is that it can be time consuming. coming up with something original is hard; i mentioned in a reply way back that it’s hard to be original when a lot of ideas have already been done. originality is, in part, how you write something and how you execute the story, which requires more thorough thought and planning. my fic respice finem was a vampire + crime syndicate memoir-esque story that took me 6 months. at dawn was vampire + crime thriller, and coming up with the plot and then filling in plot holes drove me insane. now i’m writing fight or flight, biopunk + crime syndicate, and i’m at almost 5 months, 50k and i hate it so much i just wANT IT FINISHED.
i enjoy writing longer and more detailed plots (i’m a fucking masochist) but it takes a lot of time, and even after all my hard work on it, i’m not always satisfied with the end result. another thing is reception; i don't want to sound like that bitch who complains about engagement, but writers who write more niche story ideas obviously don't get as much engagement as an nct dream 5k pwp fic. i personally don't care much for numbers, and just want to write hot vampires (yuta 🥵🥵 much sexy mhm) for myself, but i'm sure there are people who feel discouraged and deterred from writing what they want because of the audience.
as for the ideas you mentioned, i can get behind a lot of them and love writing for them! crime, thriller and mystery are some of my go tos. some others i'm maybe less comfortable writing because they're more rooted in romance, and i don't know how to write pure romance to save my life. i have some more commentary/qualms for some of these tropes, but won't include any more unsolicited opinions here lmao.
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nsfw kink talk below the cut, including my very personal nsfw takes (some from experience)
so apparently on tiktok and twitter, there are folks saying that being into “knotting” is zoophilia??? this is not me being shocked that people on twitter and tiktok have bad takes about kink. but like. what the fuck?? furry knotting porn is pretty tame by comparison to some of the shit i’ve seen. and i’m sorry, maybe it’s just my personal taste, but if you’re a monsterfucker and you’re into werewolves, imo the knot should come standard with the package, so to speak. like, i’m not gonna yuck somebody’s yum, i’m just saying i can’t imagine getting all hot and bothered over a bigass werewolf with big claws and fangs and basically a big wolf head, and then looking down and seeing an Average Human Penis…just…there.
anyways this is insane logic. absolutely buckwild. and for anyone who deals with the inevitable intrusive thought spiral of “oh god, i’m into X, that must mean i’m into Y, which means i’m causing actual, physical harm to Z and i’m a bad person” ??? that is NOT a fun spiral. (i deal with this regularly.) for that example, X would be knotting, Y would be zoophilia, and Z would be ‘actual, real-life animals.’ and you can’t just connect those three things that way! like, there are thoughts and beliefs and actions and self-justifications you have to do and make before you get to Z, even from Y! god almighty.
thoughts. are. not. actions. intrusive thoughts do not reflect intent. yes, even the intrusive thoughts that come after the horrible thought, and say “what if you DO want to do this horrible thing?” even those. i’m going to make a separate post about this
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