#i had to look up wolves with glasses and i think that was my lowest moment

[artificialqueens]

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Eight [FINAL] (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Rosé and Denali deal with the aftermath of the Games, and finally go home.

A/N: Writing this fic has been a wild ride honestly. I'm so glad I stuck with it because it's become one of my favorite multichaps I've done. Thank you so much to everyone who read along and stuck with me and this fic, your comments and support really do mean a lot to me. I really hope you enjoy this ending, and please leave feedback if you'd like!

Rosé throws the berries aside, wiping her mouth clean. “Are you okay?” she asks Denali, immediately going to her side.

“Yeah.” Denali is pale and shaky, probably from stress, but she lost a lot of blood from the wolf bite, and her leg can’t hold her weight. She needs a doctor.

The hovercraft roars overhead, rustling the trees as two ladders drop down. Denali takes one step and whimpers in pain.

“I got you,” Rosé soothes. She scoops Denali up and carries her to the ladder, holding on tight as they’re pulled up. They’re out of the arena. They’re out and they should never have to go back. Rosé just hopes the bad things will stay there, that they won’t follow her into her dreams.

The inside of the hovercraft is like a miniature hospital, with doctors and nurses and medical equipment waiting. They rush over, hands reaching out to take Denali away from her, but Rosé flinches back and holds her tighter, shielding her from the doctors. She doesn’t trust them, she doesn’t trust anyone but Denali, she can’t let them take her. She fought tributes and wolves, and she’ll fight them too. But Denali’s eyes are fluttering closed, body going limp in Rosé’s arms, and she has no choice but to let them take Denali behind a metal door, hoping they can fix her.

Rosé tries to follow them, but someone helps her into a chair, a pristine white one that looks so wrong beside the blood and dirt staining her hands and shredded clothes. She didn’t sit out here last time--her shoulder bled so much they had taken her behind the same metal door as Denali. Someone hands her water in a glass so clear she can see the reflection of her own terrified eyes, and she sets it down with shaking hands, not wanting to see, not trusting who gave it to her.

“Is Denali gonna be okay?” Her voice is a scratchy whisper, and she tries again, louder, but no one answers.

It’s so cold in the hovercraft that her teeth are chattering, and the stitches in her leg itch so bad it burns. Denali told her not to scratch at them and she doesn’t want to let her down, not when she’s behind that door and might not be okay. It’s like a bargain with herself, that if she doesn’t scratch them, if she listens to Denali, Denali will be okay.

The adrenaline has faded, and all she feels the heavy ache of her body. All she can think about is how defeated she was after the announcement, so much that she almost gave up. How she’s grateful she’s still here. How Denali loves her, loves her and means it, how it might be for nothing if Denali isn’t okay. Rosé needs her to be okay. She can’t have gone through the whole arena, all her feelings, and dreamt of a future with Denali for it to be ripped away now. She’s shaking, and her eyes sting but her body doesn’t have any tears left. Her body doesn’t have much of anything left, and she’s so tired, but she can’t fall asleep and leave Denali. The Capitol hospital is below them, and she’s asking about Denali again when there’s a needle in her arm, and everything goes dark.

---

Denali blinks through the fog and sees nothing but pure white--the ceiling, the walls, the bed sheets, all so bright it burns her eyes. There are tubes in her arm and wires across her chest, and antiseptic stings in her nose. How long has she been here? Where is here?

“Denali? It’s okay, you’re okay, I promise. You’re in the hospital in the Capitol. It’s been four days since the Games.”

Denali follows the familiar voice and finds that she’s not alone. Rosé is in a chair beside the bed, clothes rumpled and bags under her eyes, and just the sight of her, of someone from home, calms Denali immediately, lets her take a breath.

She’s in the hospital. It’s been four days. Four days since she staggered to the hovercraft and collapsed on the floor, her knee a bloody mess--

“My knee,” she croaks.

“Your knee is fine. They fixed it,” Rosé says calmly.

Denali nods, trying to hide her yawn. She’s been sleeping for days, and Rosé is here, has probably been here a while from the sight of her. She’s here just for Denali, and Denali doesn’t want to let her down by sleeping.

“Denali, go to sleep,” Rosé says, because of course she noticed. “I’ll be here. It took an hour to convince them to let me in, I’m not going anywhere.”

Denali doesn’t even nod before she’s asleep again.

Denali wakes up in a white room.

But this time, she’s completely alone.

---

It’s three times before Denali can stay awake longer than a minute. The third time, when she finally breaks past the cloud of sleep and whatever drugs they’re giving her, she sees that nothing has changed. She’s still stuck in this bed in a locked white room. She has no idea how long it’s been, and there’s no one to tell her. She thinks of last time, how Rosé had told her the information quickly, instinctively. Because Rosé had lived through that fear herself, Denali understands now. Because Rosé didn’t have a mentor, and woke up scared and alone with no one to help her, and didn’t want the same thing to happen to Denali.

Where is Rosé now? Is she in another room, stuck in bed like Denali? What if the Capitol really will only allow one victor and they’ve taken her somewhere, to hurt her and then kill her?

The worst part of waking up fully means she can think fully, and her brain runs through a hundred ways the Capitol could be hurting Rosé. She forces herself to think of something else, but the only alternative is the last few minutes in the arena—her feelings for Rosé crashing into her all at once, Rosé baring her soul, her heart, to Denali, willing to give herself up so Denali could live. But they both made it out, they both have to live. Denali can’t lose her, not when she loves her so much.

The creaking door cuts through her thoughts, and Denali sees a nurse. She hasn’t been awake to see anyone yet, and maybe she can get information. The nurse looks--kind. Denali isn’t used to seeing that in the Capitol.

“Ro--” Denali’s voice cracks, and the nurse gently holds water to her lips. “Rosé. The woman who came with me. Is she…”

The nurse hesitates, then leans down, pretending to adjust a wire stuck to Denali’s chest. “She’s okay.”

It’s enough.

---

Rosé sighs, leaning back against the pillow. The bed is as soft as the one in the Training Center, but she’d rather sleep on the ground than be stuck in it. She asks about Denali to every nurse she sees, but none answer her. Is the glimpse of Denali being carried away the last image Rosé will have of her? She has to be okay, she has to be. Denali is probably the toughest person she knows, and the doctors should have been able to fix her leg. They fixed Rosé’s perfectly--no cut, no scar, just clear skin. All Denali’s work, the paste she laid on it everyday, the bandages she wrapped it with, the lines of the stitches to hold it together, all gone. All her other injuries--cuts and scratches and bruises--are gone too, erased by the Capitol's advanced medical treatments. No physical proof that the Games even happened. Rosé carries all the proof inside her instead.

The door opens, and Rosé sits up, prepared to ask about Denali again. But she doesn’t need to ask.

Because Denali is here.

She’s in a wheelchair, pushed by a nurse Rosé’s never seen before. Denali’s pale, eyes tired and dull, but her dimples flash as she’s wheeled next to Rosé, immediately reaching her hand out.

“Rosie,” Denali breathes. “You’re okay. I--I wasn’t sure.”

“I’m okay,” Rosé says, giddy with relief.

Rosé squeezes her hand tight, tracing her soft skin, the smooth lines of her fingers, so clean and polished after the doctors’s work, but Denali’s hand nonetheless. A hand that fires a bow better than anyone and had held Rosé’s when she needed it.

“Thank you,” Rosé tells the nurse.

She just nods. “I can get you ten minutes.”

Rosé takes it, takes every second to just be with Denali, holding her hand and breathing her in. After this, they’ll have their whole lives.

---

Before they can go home, there’s the interview. And of course, the small matter of what to wear.

“Symone, don’t you think this is a little...excessive?” Denali asks. She can’t even sit on the couch in the dressing room because it’s entirely draped in fabric. She and Rosé are backed into a corner, surrendering to rows of clothing racks.

“This is the first time anyone’s dressed two tributes for the post-Games interview,” Symone says, looking up from her sketchbook. “You have to look perfect, especially because everyone loves you even more now.”

Symone is right. All eyes will be on them for this interview, to watch the tributes who made history. She and Rosé didn’t hear anything from the outside when they were in the hospital, but according to Symone, people love their relationship so much, love how they both fought to come home, that even the Capitol is going along with it. They’ve spoken of their ‘ingenuity’ and ‘determination’, because admitting two tributes outsmarted them makes them look like idiots. Symone’s heard whispers that Denali and Rosé have given hope to the districts, shown that the Games can be outsmarted, maybe even defeated. The fear of retaliation still lingers in Denali’s mind, but the Capitol can’t do anything to them--not without starting a riot or admitting that they were defeated by two women from District 12, the lowest of the low. They’re safe, and it’s something Denali hasn’t felt since she was a kid.

Rosé smiles. “And here I thought all this was an excuse to have us try on ugly clothes.”

Symone raises an eyebrow. “Well, maybe that was part of it.”

True to her word, Symone sends them behind the screen loaded with feathers and glitter, with sweeping boas and oversized hats. Denali gives into it, lets the joy fill her. She teases Rosé after she stumbles out in a pair of heels she put on backward, and all three of them laugh until they cry when Denali gets stuck in a pair of thigh-high boots.

When Symone finally shows them her sketches, eyes shining with the excitement of what she’s going to create, Denali just hugs her.

---

Rosé paces her dressing room while she waits for Denali. Symone insisted on them getting dressed in separate rooms, so they can be surprised when they see each other, but Rosé just wishes she were here. The thought of all the lights and noises and people, after such quiet and emptiness in the arena, is making Rosé nervous. But at least she won’t be alone.

She fiddles with the buttons of her jacket. Symone made her a suit, coal-black with tiny gold sparkles woven into it, picking up the color of her lion pin. It’s buttery against her skin, her armor for the night, probably her favorite thing she’s ever worn.

The door opens, and Rosé’s jaw drops.

Denali is in a soft dress that hugs all her muscles and curves. It’s the same coal-black as Rosé’s, with gold sparkles, and Symone made Denali a pin--a fox affixed to a circle bordered in forget-me-nots. They never got her mom’s necklace, and Rosé is grateful Denali at least has this.

“You look amazing,” Rosé says, her heart fluttering.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Denali smirks, tracing her hands up Rosé’s arms.

Rosé turns to Symone, who looks like a goddess in white and gold. “Thank you, Symone.”

“For everything,” Denali adds.

Symone wipes her tears and pulls them into a hug, waving goodbye as they walk to the stage.

“Rosé?” Denali holds out her arm, and Rosé takes it. The wolf tore through Denali’s muscles and tendons, and though everything is fixed, she’s still a little unsteady on her feet. Rosé doesn’t let her fall as they cross the stage, and she’s grateful for the touch herself. It’s grounding against the roar of the crowd and the blinding lights.

There’s a couch on stage instead of a single chair, and Nina bounces in her seat as they sit down, speeding through small talk and jokes.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say that was quite a Games you two had! Was there a moment you really felt you could win it?”

Rosé gives Denali a nod, signaling that she’ll answer. “Well, I think we knew we had a good shot from the start. Our skills balance each other out, and we worked so well together in training. When they announced a team could win, we knew we had an even better chance, because of how strong we are together.”

Nina nods. “And I’m sure your relationship helped.”

“It sure did,” Denali says. “It helped us trust each other and it was just so nice to have a partner in the arena. It really helped.”

“There’s never been a finale like that in history,” Nina says. “What was going through your mind in that moment?”

And Rosé falters, her cheerful answers coming to a grinding halt. She and Denali haven't seen reason to talk about it, to dig at a fresh wound. They were both there, they know what they felt. Rosé didn’t think she’d have to discuss it with the world watching. She doesn’t want to talk about it. About how she broke down and cried in the arena, one thing she never wanted to do. About how she wanted to go home, but wouldn’t have been able to live with killing Denali. About how helpless it made her feel, how scared, how angry.

Denali squeezes her hand. “We were both pretty shocked. We weren’t expecting a rule change like that,” Denali says, and Nina nods sympathetically. “But I also knew how much I loved Rosé. I didn’t want to lose her, and I just couldn’t kill her. Not when I cared about her so much, you know? The berries were all I could think of to get us both home. And when we do get home, we’re gonna get an earful from Rosé’s sisters, let me tell you.”

Denali’s answer is perfect, Rosé knows. She just touched on the surprise of the rule change without directly blaming the Capitol, drawing real sympathy, then turned the focus to her love, not a hint of gloating for her brilliant idea. It’s perfect, and it’s enough for Nina, who moves on. By the time they walk off stage to thunderous applause, Rosé feels like she went another round in the arena.

They follow the same pattern for their Victory Tour: taking turns answering questions, joking and smiling, pretending everything is fine, that they don’t still think about the people they killed in the arena. People look at them with hope, with belief in a brighter future, and though it’s nice, Rosé is glad when they finish, when they’re free to go home and not act okay all the time.

“I’m glad that’s over.” Denali sighs beside her.

Rosé nods. “Let’s go home.”

---

It’s a quiet train ride. But it’s a peaceful, content quiet, not the tense silence they sat in on the way here. They sit next to each other, hands brushing on the seat, eating donuts and watching the world outside the window.

Rosé senses District 12 growing closer, sees the landscape change to rocky terrain, feels the coal dust in the air. Her leg bounces with excitement, but also something else. Something like fear.

It’s hard to go home after the arena. It’s so isolated, practically another planet, and the only rule is not to die. For weeks after she got back, Rosé was afraid to close her eyes, fearing someone would kill her in her sleep. She flinched when someone got close to her, hand automatically reaching for the sword that was no longer at her hip. There were smaller things too, like feeling out of place around people, out of place in her own life, dropped back into things after months away. She was lucky her family was there, that they didn’t give up on her. Even with their support, she still struggled. What if things are worse this time, and they give up? What if they’re so disgusted by what she did in the arena that they don’t want her around? What if the arena changed her in ways she didn’t want it to and her sisters won’t recognize her?

“Are you nervous to go home?” Denali asks quietly, like she read her mind.

Normally Rosé would keep it inside, push it down and pretend it’s not there, because she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her. But she’s with the only other person who knows that fear, and Rosé trusts her.

“It’s just...you know how it is. How weird it is to be home after everything. What if it doesn’t feel like home anymore?”

What if the arena has made such a home inside her that District 12 will be a stranger?

“I get it,” Denali says, pausing in thought. “You know, last time I kept getting lost in the woods after I got back. I went in those woods every day for ten years, and suddenly I kept taking wrong turns. I got used to it again, but I found new paths too. And I always found my way back.” She takes a breath. “So maybe it'll be weird at first. Maybe you’ll get lost. But I think you’ll find your way back.”

The words wash over her, smoothing out the knot in her stomach. “Thank you,” Rosé whispers. She manages a smile. “That was quite a speech.”

Denali shrugs, but she’s grinning. “I learned from the best.”

Denali holds her hand as they get off the train, but when they step on the platform, she lets go and gives Rosé a gentle push towards the two people waiting for her. Jan and Lagoona’s arms open up, and Rosé falls into them. She can’t think, can’t speak--there are no words. She just lets them hold her.

“We would've been on time, but Little Miss Donut got so excited she started peeing all over the place.”

Rosé lifts her head off Lagoona’s chest and sees Kahmora and Kandy, who’s struggling with a dog, walk to Denali. The dog jumps out of Kandy’s arms and into Denali’s, and Rosé just laughs. She’s glad they came to see Denali, glad she has someone to hug too.

Jan pulls away, mischievous gleam in her eyes the same as when she was five and tried to hide a stray cat in her bedroom. “So…” she begins.

“So?” Rosé asks, straight-faced, making her work for it.

“Give us the story! When did you realize you liked her? What did you say to her on the train? What did she say back? When did she realize she liked you? And what was in those damn donuts that made your stubborn ass talk about your feelings with her?” Jan demands, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“And we want to hear about that kiss. It was so hot I would’ve covered my kid’s eyes if I had a kid,” Lagoona adds.

“Oooh, Lagoona wants to have a kid by the way, her boyfriend was really supportive during the Games stuff and she thinks he’d be a good dad--”

“Why are you telling my stories?” Lagoona asks. “I didn’t tell that you’re in love with that woman you talked to for five minutes--”

“I’m not in love with Jackie! It’s just a crush!”

“Rosé and Denali had crushes too, and we know how that ended.”

All Rosé can do is laugh. It makes her head spin, makes her a little sad to know she’s missed two months of her sisters’ lives, but it also makes her feel safe. Her sisters clearly don’t think any less of her, don’t plan to treat her any differently or love her any less, and she’ll answer every question they have, because she loves them.

---

Denali wakes up in her bed for the first time in two months. The bow is still at her feet, but her grip on the knife loosened in the night. The bed’s not as soft as the ones in the Capitol, but miles away from the ground in the arena. She’ll get used to it eventually.

She heads to the kitchen to get things ready for breakfast with Rosé. After the stress and intensity of the arena, they decided to take things slow at home, and breakfast this morning is their first official date. Denali bought new coffee mugs with her prize money, including a pink one just for Rosé, and she fills it with a spoon of cream and two spoons of sugar.

The doorbell rings, and Donut’s paws pound on the floor. Denali opens the door, keeping Donut behind her leg, and she can’t help but smile when she sees Rosé. She doesn’t look like she slept much, but some color is back in her cheeks, and it’s almost like seeing her for the first time.

“Good morning.”

“Morning,” Rosé says cheerfully.

Donut yips inquisitively and peeks her head out from behind Denali, creeping over to Rosé, who leans down and lets Donut sniff her cautiously.

“Her name is Donut. No one’s ever here besides me, so she’s not great with—“

Rosé grunts as Donut leaps on her chest, wagging her tail and licking at Rosé’s face.

“—People,” Denali finishes, smiling as Rosé gently pets Donut’s back, unsure at first, but growing more confident. “She really likes you. I’ve never seen her do that with anyone.”

“Maybe I just smell good,” Rosé says, but Denali can tell how excited she is that Donut approves of her.

“You do smell good,” Denali mumbles. Like a gentle hint of lavender.

Rosé smirks, following Denali to the kitchen table and sighing in joy when she sips her coffee. Denali brings over pancakes--on new plates--and they dig in. It's awkward at first, the silence a little too long to feel comfortable, and Denali worries that maybe they can’t do this outside the arena. Can their relationship live when the arena partly created it? But Rosé talks about what her sisters did last night, about how she almost tripped in her shower this morning, and things fall back into place. Pretty soon, they’re laughing like they did when they were kids, and Denali knows this can work.

---

“Now, Denali, are you ready to learn from a master?”

“I think I’d take you more seriously if you weren’t wearing a polka dot apron.”

Rosé crosses her arms and glares, but Denali can’t help it. There’s something about her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, about the pink-and-white polka dot apron covering her black T-shirt, that makes Denali want to laugh and kiss her at the same time.

“That would look intimidating without the apron,” Denali says, watching Rosé’s glare melt into a smile as she laughs.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you have flour and butter all over you and I’m nice and clean,” Rosé teases.

They’re in the back of the bakery, and Rosé is showing Denali how to make a cake. Denali was always mesmerized by the cakes in the window as a kid--hell, she still is now. Denali has steady hands, can do just about anything with her bow, but she can’t imagine making such beautiful cakes with nothing but frosting.

Rosé shows her how to beat the butter and sugar, marveling at the pale yellow. She pouts and calls Rosé a showoff after she cracks eggs one-handed, only to gasp when Rosé’s hand carefully curls around hers and shows her how to do it. They measure the dry ingredients, and Denali, true to Rosé’s word, gets flour all over her shirt. Denali loses herself in the steady motions of the mixer, watching it smooth everything into cake batter. They wash up while it bakes, wordlessly passing measuring cups and spoons back and forth, their hips and shoulders gently bumping into each other.

When it’s time to decorate, Denali just sits back and watches. Rosé’s grip around the piping bag is light, squeezing out little blobs of blue icing. Denali pictures those same hands gripping a sword so strongly, so fiercely. She pictures Rosé swinging it, the spray of blood that follows--

She takes a breath and blinks, forcing it away. She’s safe and in the bakery, not in the arena. There’s no blood. They both hate all the killing they’ve had to do, the blood they’ve shed. But those things aren’t the only things they’ve done. Their hands can pick flowers and decorate cakes as well as kill, and maybe it’s what they want to do that matters. What they choose to do.

Rosé is self-conscious at first, eyes flashing to Denali over and over. She’s probably never had anyone besides family watch her, but she quickly relaxes, loses herself in the movements. Denali’s heart melts at the focus in her eyes, the way her tongue sticks out a little, the way her nose scrunches, loving all the new parts of Rosé she gets to see. Once the top is covered in flowers--blue and purple and pink and yellow--they cut it up, laughing when they go back for seconds at the same time.

---

“I really hope this view is worth me being up this early,” Rosé mutters, trudging through the woods behind Denali.

“It is, trust me.”

Rosé just nods. She’s had a rough few days. She did so well right after she got back, distracted by days catching up with her sisters, meeting with Denali. But it’s been a few months now, and that peace wouldn’t hold forever. She’s been tired and jumpy and irritable this week, even if she didn’t want to be. Part of her was afraid that the bad days would scare Denali off, but they haven’t. Because Denali understands.

They both knew a relationship wouldn’t be an instant cure, wouldn’t magically heal them. But it helps. It helps that when Rosé can’t leave the house, Denali comes over to check on her and makes sure she eats. It helps that when Denali’s leg hurts and she's gasping in fear, convinced her leg is damaged, Rosé tells her it’s not and massages out the aches. It helps that on days when they're haunted by nightmares and memories, they have someone to talk to, someone to prove they're not alone in what they feel.

Rosé felt better today, and agreed to go walk with Denali, to see the autumn leaves in early sunlight. Denali moves with the same effortless skill she did in the arena, knowing just which way to turn, which path to take. Rosé will always be in awe of how she does it, casually pointing out the flowers and leaves they pass and teling Rosé all about them.

“--and this is the milkweed plant, butterflies like to eat it--what?” Denali asks, and Rosé realizes she’s staring at her with a huge smile on her face.

“I just--I love you,” Rosé says. She loved Denali in the arena--loved her before that, if she really admits it--but she loves the Denali she’s come to know at home. The Denali who rolls around on the floor when she plays with Donut. Who burrows into oversized sweaters and tucks her hands inside the sleeves. Who laughs more and more, her eyes crinkling when she does.

“I love you too,” Denali says. It’s the first time they’ve said it outside the arena, on their own, and it fills Rosé with warmth. Denali offers her hand. “Come on, we’re here.”

Rosé takes her hand and lets Denali lead her down into a valley of gold. The trees around them glimmer with reds and oranges and yellows, the bright morning sun making everything shine. It’s a brilliant reminder that she’s alive, that she’s still here to see things like this. The arena feels like a distant memory, and her home is right here, with Denali.

“Told you it’d be worth it.”

“It is.” Rosé watches the sun dance at the edges of Denali’s hair. “Denali, can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

It’s the first kiss on their own, with no cameras. A first kiss without the danger of the arena, or the pressure of needing it to survive. A kiss that’s entirely theirs.

---

Snow flutters to the ground as December begins, but Rosé doesn’t mind the cold. It’s warm enough in her house. Jan, Lagoona, Kandy, and Kahmora--they’d become friendly and supported each other watching the Games--came up with the idea for a weekly dinner, as long as Rosé and Denali are feeling up to it. They both were today, and it’s extra special because Jan brought Jackie, who she’s officially dating, and Lagoona and her boyfriend have news. Rosé’s pretty sure she knows what it is, but she’ll let them tell it.

Rosé spent the day making a chocolate sweet bread for dessert. It’s been years since she lost herself in baking like that. Denali helped, but she really just watched and ate chocolate. Everyone devours it and praises her, and it it feels good, to be loved.

Lagoona looks up from her coffee and Rosé sees that look in her eyes and she knows, she knows, and she’s already out of her seat to hug her when Lagoona announces that she’s pregnant.

Rosé’s eyes are damp, but the tears really fall when Lagoona grabs her hands and says that if it’s a girl, they’re naming her Rosie.

---

Denali sticks around to help with the dishes, enjoying the easy silence with Rosé. They finish much too quickly, and Denali suddenly realizes she doesn’t want to make the thirty-second walk back to her house. After all the laughs and love at dinner, she doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

“Everything okay?” Rosé asks.

Denali hesitates. “Um, can--can I stay here tonight? I...home seems too quiet, you know?”

“Of course,” Rosé says, and Denali knows she understands. “I have a guest room, if you--”

Denali blushes, but she trusts Rosé enough for what she wants to ask. “Can I stay in your bed? If that’s okay?”

Rosé blushes too. “It’s okay.”

Rosé cackles when her pajamas are a little big on Denali, and Denali just whacks her with a too-long sleeve. Denali slips beneath the sheets, and realizes that not only is she sleeping with someone next to her, but she doesn’t have her bow. She has a knife--always has at least one--but no bow. What if she needs it? What if something bad happens, and she’s defenseless? But Rosé is warm and comforting next to her, and Denali feels...safe. She felt safe with Rosé in the arena, and she feels safe with her now. She sets the knife on the nightstand, still within reach, and falls asleep.

---

Denali wakes with the sun like she always does. Rosé is still asleep, curled up on her side just inches from Denali, and her heart warms at Rosé looking so peaceful. Neither of them had a nightmare, and Denali is grateful. Maybe they can heal eventually. Maybe the heaviness in their chests, the weights on their minds, will eventually lighten so much it won’t hurt.

By this time, Denali normally would have memorized the footage of the latest Games, and thought of strategies for the new tributes she’d have to mentor. But she hasn’t watched a second of any Games since she got home. Maybe she doesn’t have to fight the Games--fight the whole world--tooth and nail, doesn’t have to keep running to stay ahead of them. Maybe she can beat them, can be okay, without that. She takes another peek at Rosé, at the smooth lines of her face, the soft red waves framing her cheeks. At least she won’t have to do it alone.

Denali snuggles back down, wincing when her movement wakes Rosé, who gives her a sleepy smile.

"Sorry," Denali whispers. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." Rosé motions for Denali to come closer, and Denali does, turning her back on her knife and resting her head on Rosé's chest.

"You're pretty comfy," she teases.

Rosé just grins. "I think today is gonna be a good day," she says, and Denali nods, melting into Rosé's arms. She's hopeful today, more than she's been in a while. There were the whispers Jackie shared last night, of hope through the districts. There was Lagoona’s news, the excitement of knowing the future can be brighter. Denali wants that future, wants it with Rosé. She wants to be there for good days and bad days, the happy parts of Rosé and the sad parts of her too. They're alive, still here through it, and Denali wants to live, wants to watch the sun and eat cake and play in the snow, take every good second she gets.

Maybe there will come a day when the Games are gone, when kids won’t live in fear of getting chosen. When what happened to them won’t happen to anyone else. The odds are pretty low, Denali knows.

But she’s beaten worse odds before.

[masjestickingdom]

Friends

Pairing: NCT x reader

Genre: one shot, fluff

Summary: You’ve been a close friend of NCT for a long time. They love you and they can get very protective of you, so when you start seeing a guy, they start bombarding him with questions.

Note: Just a light scenario to refer back to when I post a serious(ly long) one shot with some angst--not a lot of angst, but it’s there and more prevalent than all of my posts combined so far, so get ready! In the meantime, enjoy this light fluff!  _______________________________________________________________________

  It was one minute and twenty-seven seconds since you sat down in the living room with your boyfriend, who was right by your side, and all you wanted to do was dig a hole and stay in there.

  There they were, gathered around you two, with their hands under their chins, staring blatantly at your boyfriend. You mentally deadpanned. Just what on Earth were they doing? To you, there was one simple answer to that: they wanted to embarrass you and scare off the first boyfriend you’ve had in months.

  As an only child, you never experienced what it was like to have a protective sibling watching out for you, but there was no need for one when you had the boys. You love them and understand that they’re looking out for you, but there were times when they could have toned down their protective mode (by a lot), like when you brought your boyfriend over to their shared apartment.

  “So how long have you been seeing our sister?”

  You glanced many times at your boyfriend (you couldn’t afford to take your eyes off of your crazy friends in fear they might do something regrettable) as you assured him, “You know they’re not actually-”

  Haechan waved you off. “We’ve been friends with her since elementary school, some of us since pre-school, so we’re basically family.”

  Jaemin joined with a menacing gaze. “You’re both on a vacation with one of your best friends.”

  “Nana, what-”

  Chenle was the second to cut you off. “And both of them are drowning.”

  Jisung leaned forward with anticipating eyes. “Who do you save?”

  “Hey, that’s ridiculous,” you exclaimed. “We’ve only been going out for two weeks.”

  “Let the guy speak for himself,” Jeno said for the first time, directing his comment to you.

  Renjun nodded in agreement. “He hasn’t spoken since he introduced himself,”

  Those two little angels practically pushed your boyfriend to his deathbed because they knew that there was no right answer: whatever answer your boyfriend chose, they would be dissatisfied and would press for more information, demanding for an explanation. All eyes were on your boyfriend, including yours. You watched your poor partner gulp as the intensity of the moment reached its pinnacle. He averted his gaze to you in a very shaky manner, and you knew that the youngsters had gotten to him. There was going to be no end to this torment.

  ...

 The torment the younger boys gave you and your boyfriend was brutal, but it was nothing compared to the scheme the others plotted. If the younger ones were a pre-screening trial, the others were the real test.

  “So what do you do for a living?”

  “What do you plan on doing once you graduate from college?”

  “Where did you go to high school?”

  “Where did you take our beloved sister out on the first date?”

  “Do you know GCM? Because we all like GCM. Our beloved sister loves GCM.”

  “What flavor of ice cream do you like?”

  “Do you take the first bite of a fish-shaped bread from its tail or head?”

  “Have any of your ex-girlfriends broken up with you because of a personality issue of yours?”

  “Are you sane?”

  That last question was thrown by your peculiar friend Mister Kim Jungwoo. For him, that was a sane question.

  It was one question after another and it was if your boyfriend was participating in some kind of an interrogation by the police, except all of the questions were absolutely ridiculous.

  “Do you like cheese?”

  That was another question asked by, again, Mister Kim Jungwoo, making you scream internally.

  It truly was a tortuous evening, and your friends would not take one second to rest. To your comfort, your boyfriend was perfectly able and answered all of them, though he did so sometimes stuttering not because he was nervous but because the questions were so absurd that he was taken aback.

  It was supposed to be a normal dinner. There was supposed to be eating and pleasant conversations. Instead, there was a bunch of stabbing the chicken in the chicken salad and sipping the glass of wine like tea. Not one bit of that evening was pleasant for you.

  The only person who didn’t say anything was Mark, and you were pleased that there was at least one decent person in the room who respected your space and your boyfriend’s privacy. At least, that was until you walked your boyfriend out the door, profusely apologizing on behalf of your protective pack of wolves. Being the most considerate and understanding person you knew, he shook his head and laughed it off. You loved the way he laughed and the way he was so chill about everything. You were so fortunate to have found someone incredible like him.

  Under the orange light that the entryway provided, his smile was too radiant for you to handle. It was like a magnet. You pulled yourself closer to his body and let your hands travel to his sides.

  “Really? You don’t think that they were a tad too much?” you said, making sure your head was pulled back a little so that he could get a good view of your smile.

  With his hands supporting your back, he answered, “Maybe, but I understand.”

  He seriously was an amazing guy. The electrifying moment, his eyes gazing into yours and your bodies touching with such warmth, had the opportunity to be an amazing one. Of course, someone had to sabotage the moment. You were kind of expecting it. The thing is, it never occurred to you that the one person who was silent the entire time could be the one who stooped the lowest.

  “It’s okay that they love you,” left your boyfriend’s lips before you leaned in.

  “You got that right,” a voice said, popping out of nowhere.

  Behind the two of you was Mark Lee, who was standing there so naturally with a jumbo-sized bag of chips in his hands. His eyes twinkled with no mischief, but his grin was like Cheshire Cat.

  “No kissing on the first meeting with your in-laws,” he said quite loudly, reaching for another chip.

  And that did it.

  “Kissing?!” you heard multiple voices shout.

  You and your boyfriend automatically exchanged looks that mirrored each other’s fright.

  Mark, still grinning, added, “We’ll always be watching you.”

  Before you could usher your boyfriend away, he sent you a quick smile before (quickly) scrambling out the door. At the time, it was safe to say that you wouldn’t be hearing from him for a week (but you didn’t know that he would be willing to meet the chaotic boys again because he was that amazing).

  All you could do was look at your wicked friends standing in front of you at the entryway.

  You shook your head and sighed in defeat. “I’m gonna stay single forever.”

  They simply replied, “Then we’ve done our job.”

[charmedglass]

Drabble/Headcanon

                                         This was a confrontation long overdue, as he leans close to the doorway, with wings tightly tucked to his back. Molten steel burns in his gaze, and a single ember remains caught between his fingertips. The silence drapes across them all, until the woman, Mother, Jainil, approaches. Her hand is outstretched, and an apology drips from her mouth.

                                            Yet he does not wilt to her, smacking the hand away as though it were a personal offense. In truth, that was exactly what it was to him. Pretending as though she may care, and, perhaps the worst of it all, was the fact she may very well believe her own lies.

                                                                          A snarl breaks the other man's mouth, father, Aouli. His voice is low, rumbling like the engines of the airships. Soft, before bellowing into a sudden roar, a spark given way to flame.

                                             For how dare he act out against them? They wanted to talk, just to understand why he left, to become a service man of all things. That alone gives reason why they will never understand, and, it was all the better for it. Avros sees these two people, people he once called mother and father ( and still catches himself doing so to this day ), and he sees their greed. He sees how living in the lap of luxury has tainted their view of the world.

                                          "I dared?- I do this because my skills are needed." Jainil approaches again, with a wobbling lower lip, light blue eyes misty and wet. It garners no sympathy.

                                         "But, there are others, much more qualified! You're not needed out there-!" Jainil's voice gives way to sniffling sobs, truly, it seems like she does not understand. The Black Swan knows this is not so far from the truth.

                                                                                             "We paid for your lessons, helped you grow, the money to your name is because of us- and you repay us, for plucking you off the streets, with your broken wings and body, you repay us by spitting our favor in our faces?" Aouli's voice drags against the air, to which Avros's only response is to take another long drag off his embers. 

                            A wave of smoke is exhaled to fill the space between him, and them. Just the way he wanted it to do so.

                                                "Repay you..." It would seem, being around wolves for the last set of years has done something to his voice, his voice a low growl that reverberates throughout the entire room. 

                                  "For buying me from a desperate woman? A winged faunus, such a pregnancy is rather taxing, dangerous even. You scoured the lowest streets, looking for a priceless artifact-"

                                           "And so what if we offered that woman payment for you? You were both better off."

                                             Jainil's speaking again, indignant, with cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Yet, there's a sharp shiver that doesn't go unseen from his eyes. Perhaps she would be correct, even right in her words, if not for the fact that he was never sought out because they wanted a child.

         "Why do you hate us so much? What did we ever do to deserve this?"

                     Aouli stands before his wife, placing himself between her, and Avros, as though he would ever raise his hand against a civilian.

                                                   "I, was nothing more than a shiny new object. I am not daft nor slow- the prejudice against faunus are bad now, and were worse then. I doubt my birthmother was a faunus, not if she were so desperate." Both pairs of eyes are watching him, light blue and jade green.

                             "You've already had your children, and the divide between us has always been apparent. Especially with a gap of ten years. Do not think for a second that because you raised me, you were my parents, that I owe you anything."

                               When Aouli slammed a closed fist into his jaw, was when the conversation was over. Even if Avros had seen it coming, in the jumping of muscle round his mouth, the slow motion his arm seemed to raise in. Even with all of this, Avros let the man strike him, openly now, without the pretense of punishment for misbehavior to protect his actions.

                                    'All those years, of questions, of whys, of open palmed strikes- they were never for being strict'

                                "You were always spoiled. Speaking back to your betters, you were always better off than the rest of your kind." Avros can feel an ache blooming in his jawbone, and while Aouli was no Huntsman, he was still a well kept, hefty man. Likely, he would bruise.

                                            Avros raises his hand then, grabbing Aouli's wrist, and shoving him back. The last dying embers of the cigarette are dropped, carelessly to the floor.

                                                         "We're done here."

                  Wings unfurled, the windows broken to shards in his escape.

                                  All the while, anger and hurt nestled their home within his ribcage. Some things, it seemed, would never change. Yet, for the first time, for all the shattering of glass in his chest, and the bleeding heart that licked it's wounds, it was... a relief.

                                                For all these years he had convinced himself that he was just looking at them from a bad angle, that what had happened wasn't what he suspected.

                                                 He wasn't crazy-

                                                He had been right.

-

Headcanon

To elaborate on the prior drabble, Avros's parents were not openly abusive. In this drabble, we see ( as much as I was comfortable writing ) the attempts of guilt tripping, gaslighting, and verbal/physical abuse.

Guilt is tried to be invoked in Avros by way of questioning why he hates them, why he's throwing back at them what they've paid for him to learn. Trying to imply that who he is, is entirely because of them, and that Avros owes them. When this doesn't work, we see some of the gaslighting, some denial as to why they 'adopted' Avros.

They try to direct the conversation as doing him and his birthmother a favor- but it was in actuality for their own selfish interests. When Avros deflects this with the truth, they quickly cave in to verbal or physical violence.

When growing up, manipulation for the latter was easily done. That he deserved to be slapped around, and, since nothing major was ever done, only bruises, Avros never questioned it. So when he lets his father actually strike him here, this adds in the final nail in the coffin about his home life.

So I need to point out, yes. Avros's home life was abusive, he doesn't often talk about it, but he does think about it. He was something shiny to show off, and something to be molded into something of a fancy object. If he broke those restrictions, he was undesirable, or unwanted. Oftentimes punished.

To add the final thing, no, if domestic abuse is not something you're comfortable with writing, it need not be brought up. It is a core part of his backstory, but he has moved past it as best he can. If asked about it, he will never delve into the thick of what happened, rather just state he had been bought and molded into a fancy doll to show off.

Which is all that's needed. Avros is in his forties, and had his team help him do the majority of the coping. Come current time in Atlas is when this drabble occurs, so it will be fresher in volume 7 timelines. If need be he may discuss it with possible close friends or lovers, but it's not necessary since given enough time, it'll just be a wound finally healed.

Further proof comes from the ending lines, were Avros is finally set at ease, without any more doubts or second guessing of if he was remembering correctly.

( Note this drabble is the second encounter with his parents in Vol. 7, not the first. The first was actually in a public restaurant, where no one could really act out. )

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #271

“some of those who work forces are the same that burn crosses.”

Do you cook on the stove at all, or just microwave? I just use the microwave. I'm scared of the stove lmao. Do you ever debate religion with your friends? Bruuuh no. I am so disinterested in debating about something that to me ultimately doesn't matter yet humanity has made so serious. Whatever happens after we die, happens, there's that. Just be a decent human being and go out knowing you did your best to make the world better than when you entered it. Do you keep your shampoo in the shower or someplace else? In the shower. Something your mother said or did that shocked you: Like... recently? Or in my entire life? I dunno about recently, but I guess the most shocking to me was when she vehemently called my sister something I won't repeat. Did your mom go to college? She was before the cancer. Ready to graduate, too, but that didn't go as planned thanks to, y'know, cancer. Which food do you think you have the most cans of in your cupboard? Good question, no clue. I don't really pay attention to the canned foods. Maybe fruits? Do you save fortunes from fortune cookies? No. Are you offended when Christmas is spelled Xmas? Nah. Where do you put your keys when you come home? In my purse. Describe your favorite mug or glass to drink from? I don't have one. That I use, anyway. Sara gave me a Markiplier quote one that's a Holy Item on my shelf and instead of holding a beverage holds All My Love. Your bad habit that you love the most: UGH I hate how much I love soda. Invent a pop tart flavor: STORY TIME!!!! As a kid, there was this contest to design a type and you won like... a fucking huge supply of the newest flavor, which was at the time that wild berry whatever thing. My sister and I made one that I think I recall being pink with heart sprinkles and strawberry flavored, and we won. Guess who fucking hates the wild berry flavor now lmao. Okay but anyway if I was to invent one now... is there a BLUE raspberry flavor? Cuz a bitch loves blue raspberry flavored everything. Do you name your pets after tv/movie/book characters: Sometimes. I don't currently have a pet that is, though. Are you proud of yourself for what you've accomplished? The few things I actually have, sure? I'm more ashamed of what I haven't. Do you own any sexy lingerie? Nooooo no one would want to see me in that, least of all myself lmao. Have you ever caught a bouquet of flowers at a wedding before? No. Has a horse ever neighed at you before? Uhhh I don't think so? Do you prefer ice cream or sorbet? Ice cream. Have you gotten your pets spayed? My cat is. That's like... the only pet we ever have fixed, sadly. My parents/Mom (depending on time period) could just never afford it. The only real reason we managed to get Roman neutered was because our sister directed us to a cheap on-the-go business where it was like... only $45, and Roman was marking the house badly so it was pretty urgent. Would you ever take in a stray animal? HA, that is the STORY of my family with cats. At this current time, most likely not. We don't need another pet right now, nevermind one of a mysterious background with my mom being sick. When is payday? N/A Have you ever walked on a runway before? No. How long is your workday? N/A Is there a walkway or a pathway to your front door? No. What is your favorite color? What is your least favorite color? Pink is superior to all colors. I'm really not a puke-green fan, but I mean... is anyone? What color dominates your wardrobe? Everything is B L A C K. What color are your eyes? Grayish blue. Are you colorblind, or do you know anyone who is? I'm not, but Jason's brother is colorblind to I think red and blue? Do you prefer color photos or black-and white? It greatly depends on the composition and subject matter of the photograph. I find great beauty in both. If I had to pick though, color usually appeals to me more. Are you one of those people who can taste, feel, or smell colors? No. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? Yes. Do you enjoy coloring? It tends to be my least-favorite part of the art process because that's where I always fuck shit up. Do you know anyone who is racist? Oh my, PLENTY. Welcome to the South. Are your nails painted any color(s) right now? They never are. Can you lift more than 100lbs? I probably CAN, but it would be very hard. What's your opinion on incest? It's fucking repulsive. Morally and negative from a scientific standpoint, anyway. Do you have a favorite color for cats? Orange. What video games did you play when you were younger? I was a massive gamer as a kid, teenager too, so I could put a hell of a lot here. But, I'll just imagine you're referring to when I was quite young. The Spyro games (save for Skylanders) were my LIFE, I loved Nintendogs, the Crash Bandicoot trilogy, lots of games that were based on movies (like Madagascar and Finding Nemo are two I really enjoyed), uhhh... OH! And absolutely weird, but I loved hunting games. Like, I had a whooole lot, despite hating real life hunting even as a child. I think it was because I got to see wild animals, plus it could be calming to wander and scary, too, when things like wolves found you. Oh, and then there were fishing games, too. LOOK I just love(d) games. Would you ever get a tramp stamp? I hate that nickname. Having a tattoo literally anywhere does not equate you to a stereotype. Yes, because I want to be heavily tattooed anyway. Did you cry when Michael Jackson died? No. Not that I didn't care at all, I just wasn't a giant fan. What's the ugliest species of animal? Lmao how mean. The blobfish immediately comes to mind, though. Looks like a ball of mucus shaped into an old man's face. Are you embarrassed about any songs on your iPod? I used to be, now it's just like whatever. I like what I like. What do you use to listen to music on the computer? YouTube. Do people know a lot about you? Places on the Internet sure do lmao. I try to be much more private now online to a degree, depending on where. Irl, no. I'm too easily embarrassed/afraid of being judged for what makes me, me. Who was the last person you slept beside? Sara. Do you like Metallica? They're one of my all-time favorites and I trust NOBODY who claims to hate them. What's your favorite kind of soup? I'm not a fan of soup. What’s your best friend's favorite band? Her all-time favorite is Pink Floyd. Who was the last person you took a picture with? Ummm idr. Do you play Guitar Hero? Not really anymore, but I fuckin slayed that shit back in the day. Whose house did you last visit? My older sister's. Who was the last person to come to your house? My younger sister. What time do you usually eat dinner? Anywhere between 5:30 to like... 7:00 or so. Have you ever searched your own house on Google Earth? Not this current one, no. Does it bother you when people have a loose grip on hugs? No? Some people don't like hugs. Are you looking forward to next year? I don't know. Is covid gonna be history by then? It depends on a lot of things. What have you done so far this summer? *blink blink blink* What's your favorite punk band? Honestly, I don't even really separate bands by genres now because I don't know. There's so so many, plenty overlap, etc. etc, and people - especially those who enjoy rock/metal stuff, I've found - get all snobbish and "WELL ACTUALLY" when you "misgenre" or whatever. Which is better: cold or hot weather? COLD. FUCK hot weather. Anything above ~75*F is disgusting. Is photography something you enjoy? I'm an aspiring photographer so like- What’s the best flavor snow cone? I haven't had a legit snow cone in years... but we have a place called Pelican's Snowballs, which is really just like... snow cones in a cup? They are A M A Z I N G and strawberry is to die for. When driving, are you a speed demon or do you drive like your grandmother? I don't drive because I'm terrified to. Have you ever met someone who just had you at hello? No. Bet you were expecting "Jason," but no, I was weirded out that a stranger just comes up to me in the hall on the way to class and starts talking to me. Have you ever written poetry? Yeah. Do you have any addictions? Technology, ugh. And soda, rip. When was the last time you just laid and looked at the stars? Laid, many years ago one summer when Jason and I were just lying on the trampoline while my dad was grilling. What song reminds you of an ex? A lot. What color eyeliner do you prefer? Black. What was the last thing that you made with your own two hands? Like, made from scratch? Hell if I know. What’s the deepest water you will wade into? Like, shoulder-deep in the ocean. How many blades does your razor have? Three, I think? Highest grade of education you’ve completed? Just one semester of college. Lowest grade you’ve received on a test? Yikes, Fs in college math. He taught in such an abstract way that I failed like... every test, or nearly did. I was too afraid to ask questions continuously. Do you enjoy sitting in the sun or the shade more? There is NO situation where I would rather be in the sun. Do you enjoy going to arcades? Hell yeah. What parades do you like to go to? None. When’s the last time you went on a tirade? I ranted to Mom about the fucking ridiculous anti-maskers that are a big reason this motherfucking pandemic is worsening in America. With my mom being immunocompromised, it is something I take VERY goddamn seriously. It's not a difference in opinion - it's a difference in morality. Do you like to play charades? I loved to as a kid. Now it'd feel weird. Would you ever lead a crusade? I wouldn't want to lead anything. Have your parents ever forbade you from doing something? Aha, so as a kid, I had a game demo disc that showed the preview to Parasite Eve, and my sisters and I would secretly watch it despite it scaring us to where Mom did forbid us to click on it. And all these years later, I've played it and love it... ha ha. Otherwise, my parents have always been pretty open to letting us do stuff, save for things the usual parent doesn't like, like swearing. When’s the last time someone said something degrading to you? A few days back when I got into an argument on Facebook about some asshole teasing their newly-hatched cobra to where it kept striking at the tongs, hood flared and all. Apparently I had no idea what I was talking about, pointing out the snake was clearly stressed out. What’s the last homemade dish you’ve made? I legit haven't cooked a thing since Sara was here and I made her eggs for breakfast. Which was like, a year ago. Do you like lemonade? What flavor(s)? Broooo YES. Pink lemonade is better, but I enjoy just the classic kind, too. Has anyone ever serenaded you before? Fuck this question. Would you like to visit the Everglades? Lemme see them motherfuckin GATORS. Have you ever attended a masquerade ball before? No. Would be dope, though. Have you lost anyone to AIDS? No, thank god. Have you ever been paid for sex? Hell no. Have you ever had a maid in your home before? HUNNY we are too poor for that shit. Do you know how to do different types of braids in hair? No. When’s the last time you wore a Band-aid? Where and why? I have no clue. When was the last time you were afraid? Of what? A family friend was over here a couple days ago and she had this weirdest muscle cramp in her leg that brought her to the floor gasping for like over a minute. I was super scared, and Mom was too, as we had no idea what to do. I almost had to call 911. Crazy woman hasn't gone to the doctor about it, to my knowledge. Would you ever consider growing your hair out to your waist, or longer? NOOOO NO NO. I am probably having short hair for the rest of my life. Is there anywhere in your house that you're scared to be alone in? No. What is your favorite shoe brand? I don't have one. What weird things did you do as a small child? I was just a weird kid in general. I did a lotta stuff that would make people raise a brow. Who puts the most pressure on you in your life? My goddamn self. Do you laugh off embarrassing moments? Hell no, I turn red as a cherry and probably cry once I'm in private. Do you have a favourite actor/actress? If so, who? No. Do you like little kids, or do they annoy you? I feel uncomfortable around them. They're too brutally honest, I feel like every move I make is wrong, and I just generally feel incapable of handling them properly. Do you want a small or a large family when you get older? Well, I don't want any kids, so... Are you a good dancer? If not, do you enjoy dancing anyways? No and no. I'd be embarrassed. Have you ever lied to avoid getting into trouble? Yeah. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital for a long period of time? I'd say two weeks is pretty long, and I was supposed to stay an entire month. I only got out of that by going to court. Do you take a lot of pictures of yourself, or are you camera shy? I HATE being in front of the camera. What are your choice of toppings on a hamburger? And do you prefer gas or charcoal grilling? I just like ketchup, mustard, and pickles, really. A bit of diced onion is fine, too. I prefer gas; I hate the charcoal-y taste. You are chosen to have lunch with the president. the condition is you only get to ask one question. What do you ask? Fuck that, I'd decline going to begin with. What is your concession stand must-have at the movies? Popcorn, of course. Which do you dislike most: pop-up ads or spam email? Pop-up ads. How long was it from ‘the first date’ until the proposal of marriage? How long until the wedding? N/A What topic can put you to sleep quicker than any other? Probably like, wrestling. Golf. Sports in general. How many times did it take you to pass your drivers test? I haven't tried it yet. If you had to have the same topping on your vanilla ice cream for the rest of your life, what topping would you choose? I always just use chocolate syrup. Would you rather be trapped in an elevator, or stuck in traffic? CHRIST, TRAFFIC. Elevators kinda scare me and I'm very scared of being stuck in one. What are you sitting on right now? My bed. Are you listening to anything? Halocene's cover of "Killing In The Name." Have you parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No. Who was the last person to give you money? I have no idea. Have you ever dreamed of someone you barely know? Actually yeah. Weird as hell. When was the most recent time, if ever, that you felt “impostor syndrome,” or that you felt unqualified to be somewhere? Hm. I suppose when I went to the doctor by myself for my foot. I'd never done an appointment without Mom at all, and I was veeery clueless to a lot of steps, questions, etc. What are some ways that pop culture has helped you learn historic or scientific facts? Some TV shows, I guess. Or games, even. Have you ever had a job in which you felt that you had nothing to do? What was the protocol in that situation (e.g., surfing the web, taking on the job of co-workers, or pretending to work)? If you have not, do you think it would be lucky or unlucky to have such a job? No. I was expected to always be doing something. I'd consider that to be pretty unlucky, as it sounds boring and pointless. Have you ever intimidated or made another person feel legitimately threatened? If not, do you think that you could ever be seen as scary? I don't know. Mom has admitted me yelling has scared her before, though. I can yell pretty fucking loudly. But she herself never felt threatened. And do I think I could be seen as scary? Yes. Especially given my chronic fucking nightmares that almost always involve confrontation. In what ways do you or would you need to be validated by a partner? (For example, liking your posts/talking about you on social media, or perhaps by doting on you with gifts.) I am VERY much a "words of affirmation" person. I NEED reassurance that I'm adequate and sincerely loved. When you are having a hard time emotionally, what are some of the telltale ways that you act out or that your personality reflects your struggles? I become very snappy and more reclusive than usual. I cry really easily. Do you tend to succeed by weaning yourself off of something or by quitting cold turkey? It depends on what it is, but I've generally needed to wean myself off of things when necessary. Is there a specific type of pet breed/size/etc. that you don’t want? Why not? I am very turned off by animal breeds/types that are subject to serious health issues, such as pugs, dachsunds, Persians, spider ball pythons... Just don't fucking breed them. Ironically, some of these are the cutest, but I care far more about the health of the animal. Have you ever lived in a notoriously dangerous area? If not, would it bother you to do so? Yes and yes. Has a friend’s significant other ever interfered with or damaged your friendship? What about a significant other of yours damaging a friendship? I don't believe so, no. What, if anything, is something that you put pressure on yourself about? What do you imagine would happen if you did not live up to this expectation? Getting a job, for Heaven's sake, and actually managing to keep it. I've proven inept in this area so far, so, I've already failed that. :^) If you have been in a serious relationship, have you and your partner ever discussed lifetime plans that clashed? Did you reconcile them or did you break up? If you have not been in a relationship, what are some issues that would be deal-breakers? Jason and I kinda casually talked about kids early in our relationship, at which time I didn't see myself wanting them at all and he did at some point. It didn't really bother either of us, though; it was something we'd figure out if we actually got anywhere. Then he became the only person I could ever imagine myself having kids with. Life's funny.

[werewolfdays]

Drabble- Picnic Date

sir, those are my emotional support ocs. I write them being cute and gay to cope thx- 

“Do you really have to go on patrol today?” I wrapped my arms tightly around Jayde’s waist, unwilling to let her leave my side. All I wanted was to be with her right now.

She looked at me adoringly, “I do.” There was only a little bit of regret in her voice. “Plus, I could really use a run.”

“I know, I don’t walk you enough.” I teased.

Jayde scoffed at me, her hand immediately going to poke the most ticklish spot on my side. I hopped away from her with a yelp and she smiled proudly at herself. “You know what they say about people who talk shit.” 

I continued to provoke her, “Since when are you the responsible buzz kill?” 

“Since protecting this place means protecting you.” 

“Come on, Jay.” I complained.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jayde started, walking over to the desk and pulling out a map of the grounds. She grabbed a pen, searching for a particular spot, “Why don’t you meet me…” the tip of the pen marked an X on an area I haven’t explored yet. The property that the Lodge rested in was massive. You could hike for hours and still be inside the perimeter. That’s why Jayde sometimes had to go out on patrols. To check for breaches along the perimeter’s weak points. “Here.”

I looked at what she had marked and nodded. “Okay, for what?”

“A picnic.” Jayde answered with a crooked grin. “Call it a date.”

A wide grin came across my face, “Are you asking me out?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious.” She replied smugly.

I couldn’t resist teasing her more, “Do you have a crush on me?”

Jayde chuckled, “We’re already together, you dork.”

“You have a crush on me,” I said in a sing-song voice. 

She rolled her eyes at me, but the corner of her mouth remained upturned. In one swift motion, Jayde’s hands gripped my waist, and she lifted me up and onto the desk, situating herself between my legs. Boy, did that shut me up. “I have more than a crush on you.” She muttered, leaning in for a heated kiss. 

I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her closer to bask in it, thinking if anything could convince her to ditch patrols it would be the way I was kissing her right now. Deepening it with a teasing brush of my tongue against hers, Jayde squeezed my hips, drawing me deeper into her with a sharp inhale. So far, it was working. I smiled briefly into our kisses when her hand went under my shirt to caress my skin, traveling higher and higher. I kissed her harder in encouragement, nipping at her bottom lip.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the thing that snapped her out of it. Jayde broke away, both of us breathing heavily. “That was,” She panted, utterly flustered, “That was a really good try.” 

“You started it.” I said, kissing my way down her neck.

Jayde didn’t deny her part. “Meet me.” Her voice was low in her throat against my lips. 

My kisses came back up to the corner of her mouth, “I would meet you anywhere.” 

She gave me a love-struck smile, kissing me once more before stepping back. “See you later.”

“Be careful out there.” I said, watching her walk away.

“Always.” 

“Hardly.” 

Jayde’s crooked smile was contagious, and with a wink, she shut the door on her way out. 

The hike wasn’t too bad. It helped that we were in the first couple weeks of autumn. A crisp breeze blew through the trees, carrying dead leaves to rest on the forest floor. I always loved being out here. I’m sure there was a part of me that would make a good werewolf for this very reason. Running free through the woods with enough energy to last for hours sounded pretty liberating. But that was the only part about being a werewolf that really appealed to me. It certainly wasn’t enough to ask Jayde to turn me. 

Following the map, I eventually made it to the place that Jayde had marked. It was a gorgeous little clearing with a massive tree in the center. Its lowest branches were close enough to reach, but the highest stretched up into the sky where I was sure that I could see a good chunk of the property if I could climb it. A stream must have been close by too, because my ears picked up the calming trickle of flowing water. The base of the trunk seemed a good place to set up, so I started unpacking some of the things I brought.

Unsure of when Jayde was going to arrive, I left the food inside my pack, and pulled out a book to entertain myself until then. Settling into the spot, I leaned my back against the tree. I knew Jayde chose this place just for me. It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. All it was missing was her. I still enjoyed it, though. Let myself be sucked into the story in my hands with the relaxing sounds of nature in the background and the smell of fresh forest air. 

I wasn’t aware of how much time passed, but I suddenly heard howling in the distance. I couldn’t explain how, but I was always able to pick out Jayde’s voice among a group of wolves. Her howl always stood out to me. The beautiful song that drifted through the mountains said, I’m coming to you. 

I smiled to myself and continued my reading. It was always difficult to gauge the distance with a howl, sound can travel in funny ways in the woods, but I knew that she wasn’t too close. Not too far away, either. I figured that I could get in another chapter before she showed up. 

About thirty pages later, I heard rustling in the tree line. It started behind me, slowly circling around to my left. Some of the birds went silent for a moment as they listened for the hidden predator, and as she got closer, a few flew away in a flurried panic. A slow grin appeared across my lips, my eyes searching for the movement I was hearing. 

Then, a beautiful white wolf appeared out of the trees like some sort of spirit. Even after all this time, seeing Jayde as a wolf approaching me made my breath falter ever so slightly. She was a wolf, and yet, I always recognized her. It was in the way she looked at me. Her eyes were golden, but it was Jayde in that subtle glow, in how she regarded me with an intelligence that I’ve never seen in any other animal. 

“There you are.” I said, putting my book aside while she trotted up to me. 

Jayde came to where I was sitting and nuzzled her head against mine in greeting. A giggle escaped my lips when she ruffled some of my hair, nearly knocking my glasses off, so I put them down beside my book and reached up to pull her into an embrace. I loved how soft her fur felt. I could run my hands through her thick coat all day if she let me. Some days she did. 

Without much ceremony, Jayde laid down beside me and plopped her head into my lap with a huff. “Too tired to shift back just yet?” I mused, brushing some bits of leaves out of her fur. The wolf grunted in confirmation. “Okay, well, I have clothes in my backpack when you’re ready.”

She made herself more comfortable against me, and I began a soothing motion of my hand through her fur. Starting at her head and brushing all the way down to her back. Or as far down as I could reach. Jayde’s wolf form was huge. I’ve never been around a regular wolf before, but it was hard to imagine that it could be bigger than her. The size and skill she possessed as a wolf was why she was one of the most, if not the most intimidating werewolf around here. I smirked to myself as I realized it also made her the easiest to cuddle. 

We relaxed for a little while, enjoying the quiet and each others company, the calmness that the forest gave us. At one point, there was more rustling close by. Jayde’s head perked up for a second, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it. That is until a reddish-brown wolf appeared in the clearing. They clearly stumbled upon us on accident. The way the wolf froze at the sight of us, their head cocked curiously in our direction, confirmed that. I didn’t recognize them, though I was sure Jayde did. She didn’t get up, but her hackles rose, and a low rumbling growl drifted through the air as she flashed her teeth. It was the wolf version of piss off. 

The other wolf’s ears flattened, bowing their head and retreating back into the woods to leave us alone. I rolled my eyes at the satisfied grumble Jayde made as she relaxed back into my lap. “Don’t be rude.” I chastised softly.

I think there was something about being in her wolf form that made her instincts more heightened. Jayde was always more protective over me as a wolf. She rarely let another werewolf in their wolf form near me. I knew that she just wanted to keep me safe. Sometimes werewolves could be unpredictable when they turn, so I never really said too much about it, but she didn’t need to be that way all the time. 

Her ears twitched in the direction of my voice, and she turned her head enough to side-eye me. I gave her an exasperated smile, shaking my head. In response, Jayde sat up and licked my cheek, which only made me laugh. When I batted her muzzle away, she jumped back playfully. I couldn’t resist how adorable she looked with a wolfish grin and a wagging tail. 

“Big scary werewolf.” I quipped, pushing myself up on my feet. Jayde barked and danced away from me, narrowly avoiding my swat. It was always strange to play around with her like this. It felt like I was interacting with a big dog and Jayde all at once. My brain was telling me that I was seeing an animal, but my heart had no issue knowing it was Jayde. Somehow, it was a perfect balance. Though, I will admit that it took a little getting used to in the beginning.

The white wolf bounced around me, too quick for me to react. I switched tactics, running away from her now. Jayde always took it easy on me, her reflexes and strength gave her an unfair advantage, so she leveled the playing field by holding back. Otherwise she would always win, and there’s no fun in a game of tag that last two seconds whenever she’s it. That being said, she never made it too easy. 

I managed to avoid her while using the tree as a shield, darting around it to try and keep the trunk between me and her, but then she cut me off on the third pass. Her massive wolf form tackled me to the ground. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to throw me into defeated laughter. Jayde’s snout started nuzzling into my neck and poking me in my ticklish spots, which just threw me into uncontrollable hysterics. 

“Okay, Okay, you win!” I laughed, trying to shove Jayde’s head away from me.

At my surrender, Jayde sat back on her haunches, looking far too pleased with herself. I didn’t know how she managed to look so smug in her wolf form, but she did. She shook her coat proudly to bask in her triumph before she started to shift back. The transformation always took a minute or two, so I went to my backpack to pull out the clothes I brought for her. By the time I placed them on the blanket I had laid out earlier, Jayde was walking over to me as a human.

“You’re getting quicker.” She said, bending down to grab her jean shorts and slipping them on. “Nearly got away from me there.” 

“We both know that you would’ve caught me no matter what.” I answered, flashing her a smirk. “How was your patrol?”

“Uneventful.” After Jayde pulled her tank top over her head, she ran a hand through her knotted hair. I kind of liked how her hair looked after a turn. It was attractively unkempt. She was one of the few people who could look sexy without even trying, and I certainly wasn’t complaining. “Boring as hell. All I could think about was coming here to meet you.”

I shrugged innocently, “Told you to ditch.” 

Jayde gave me an amused smile, sitting beside me under the low hanging branches. “I never would’ve thought you’d be the type to convince me to skip out like I’m ditching class in high school.” 

“I can be full of surprises.” I said, rummaging through my bag until I found the food and water I packed. I handed Jayde one of the sandwiches I made, “It’s not as good as the food you make, but it was made with love nonetheless.” 

“That’s the important part.” Jayde eagerly accepted the offering and took a generous bite.

“This spot is beautiful, by the way.” I took a bite of my own sandwich, knowing that I would need the energy for the hike back.

Jayde nodded while she finished chewing, “Yeah, I came across it last week. I knew you’d love it.” Turning made her super hungry, and it was always funny to watch her devour something after shifting back like she thought someone would steal it away from her at any second. 

“I do. This could be a nice little meeting place for us.” I wanted to have a lot more days like this with Jayde. It felt so good to be out here with her. Like nothing could touch us. 

“As long as no more strays come running through.” She grumbled into the remnants of her sandwich.

I gave her a level stare. “Stop being so territorial, Jay. This place is for everyone.” 

Jayde took a minute to finish her sandwich, and expertly tossed the crumpled wrappings into my open backpack. “Yes, but I want you all to myself right now.” Her voice was low enough to almost be a growl. Before and after a turn, Jayde’s wolf lingered like an air around her. Her behavior was still half wolf.

On instinct, she pitched forward and kissed me. I wasn’t about to stop her. I blindly set my sandwich down, not really caring where it landed, and kissed her back. Her arms wrapped around my waist, guiding my body to settle in her lap. This close to her turn, I could actually feel the presence of her wolf as she kissed me. Her skin was still hot, her muscles twitched under my wandering hands with residual energy. And she always kissed me a certain way. It was a different kind of hunger that I tasted on her tongue, more intense, but addicting all the same. 

I pulled back enough for me to see her eyes. Sure enough, they had the yellow glow. My smile grew and I traced my thumb across Jayde’s bottom lip, just taking a moment to admire her. 

“How do you always know?” She asked.

I knew she was talking about the fact that I guessed correctly about her eyes. “I can feel it.”

Jayde smiled at my answer and her eyes started to shift all over my features. Her voice was almost a whisper as she said, “I am so in love with you.” 

Every single time she said that made my heart soar unbelievably high. “Well, I’m in love with you too. Funny how things work out that way.”

Her grin grew brighter, and it was a sight to behold. A part of me wanted to take a picture every time she smiled at me like this, but I knew this was a special smile that she reserved only for me. I selfishly wanted to keep it all to myself.

Jayde switched our positions, laying me down on the blanket with care, her familiar weight settling on top of me. I felt that hunger again as her mouth went to my neck. There was a small voice in the back of my head that told me I probably shouldn’t let a werewolf’s teeth so close to my throat, but the amount of trust I had in Jayde only made it thrilling. The gentle pinch I felt when she nipped at me made my nerves spark in the best way. I could always feel when she wanted to bite harder, and loved her for the restraint she showed. Jayde knew exactly how I liked it. 

“Let me know when to stop.” Jayde said against my ear.

Her voice made me shiver under her. “What makes you think I want you to?”

Her breath tickled my skin when she let out a small chuckle. “Some activities are best kept behind closed doors where I can do what I want to you without worrying about possible prying eyes.” 

“Good point.” I said, bringing her back up to my lips. “Just kiss me.”

It was so easy to let the entire world just fade away when I was kissing her. The gentle cadence of her lips against mine sent me to a completely different realm. It made me feel safe and excited and loved. All at once. I could never get enough of her. I was aware of every movement she made, every inch where her body was pressed against mine. My senses became so alive whenever she was near just so they could drink in every drop of her. I wondered if this is what she felt all the time or if it was even more intense for her. 

We were both getting into it. Perhaps more than we intended, because I felt Jayde’s thigh grind into me. The friction caused me to moan into our kisses, and that noise snapped me out of it. Another movement like that, and we would pass the point of no return. I had just enough self restraint pull back, remembering her words. Though I was sure we were close to reaching a point where neither of us would care, I wanted to at least give her the chance to change her mind.

“Okay,” I uttered through uneven breaths, placing my hand to her shoulder to push her back a couple inches. “Do you want to stop?” 

The question seemed to bring Jayde back to Earth too. She looked down at me for a few seconds, pondering what she wanted. Then, she looked around us and nodded. “Not really, but I don’t want to do it here.” 

I smiled at her, raising a hand to caress her cheek, “That’s fine with me.”

Jayde leaned down to kiss me one more time. Her gratitude present in her soft peck, and she slid off of me, lying on her back beside me. We were quiet for a few minutes, just staring up at the trees reaching into the clouded sky, before Jayde looked around the blanket for something. I watched her curiously as she grabbed the book I had been reading, only looking at it long enough to read the title, and handing it to me. 

“Will you read to me?” She asked.

“You don’t even know what the book is about.” I replied with amusement.

“I don’t care, I just want to hear your voice.” 

I stared at her, unable to hold back a smile or the noticeable blush that I felt color my cheeks. I flipped over onto my stomach and grabbed my glasses. My fingers flipped through the pages, looking for the place I had left off. Even though I didn’t mark it, it wasn’t hard to find the part I was on. Jayde watched me almost the entire time I read, her gaze only straying to look for whatever creature had disturbed the serene quiet or to shut her eyes for a few moments. I read to her until the sun started to set. Until, even with my glasses on, it became too hard to track the words on the pages. Jayde took the book from me, and as I was about to ask what she was doing, she started to read where I stopped. 

I looked at her completely baffled that she could read with such ease. “How can you see?”

She paused and looked up at me, eyes glowing softly in gold. “Werewolf remember?” 

“Of course, you have built-in night vision goggles.” I said, throwing my glasses aside dramatically like they were useless, “How could I forget?”

Jayde smirked and continued her reading. I was certain that she could tell how much I was enjoying the book, and loved her for reading it too me when I couldn’t. It was a way to prolong our time together out here, and I would’ve used any excuse. My worries completely vanished in this space with her, dissipating through the trees like morning fog. I folded my arms under my head while I watched her read, letting the sound of her voice wash over me. 

She was so beautiful, and the simplicity of her reading to me was utterly entrancing. I was overwhelmed by my love for her in this moment, enthralled with every sentence that left her lips. The way she read it to me made me enjoy the story even more. I could watch her all night, but it was getting late. With the sun being gone, the night was bringing the chill of October. Plus, my eyes were growing heavy. 

Sensing this, Jayde only read two chapters. Her slender fingers folded the top corner of the page, shutting the book and setting it aside. When she saw me staring at her with tired focus, she rested her head on her hand, smiling at me and softly asked, “What are you thinking, my love?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I said.

We’ve said I love you to each other more times than I can count. I knew that Jayde loves me more than she’s ever loved anyone, and she knew the same about me. But neither of us has said something quite like this. I realized that when Jayde’s eyes widened slightly. The statement wasn’t much different from everything else we’ve told each other, but it somehow felt like an entirely new confession. 

A part of me panicked at the look on Jayde’s face, but then she leaned in to place an incredibly soft kiss to my lips. I kissed her back, and her hand came up to rest on my cheek. “I hope it’s a long life.” She whispered against my lips. 

I couldn’t help how giddy her response made me. My grin was too big to continue kissing her, so instead, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer. It was the first time she ever said that she wanted a long life. And she wanted it with me. Words just couldn’t express how that small sentence made me feel. It made everything worth it. 

I held her against me for a few long moments, enjoying her presence, but remembering how warm she was and not wanting to give that up just yet. Jayde seemed to have caught on to that, and I heard her release an amused huff. 

“You know, if we go home, we can curl up in front of a fire.” She suggested.

“But I want to stay here forever.” I said, unraveling myself from her.

Her eyes studied me again. Even though it was dark, I knew she had no trouble seeing me. With or without glowing eyes. “Me too.” 

“We can come back.” I admitted, knowing that we would both benefit from a warm fireplace and some dinner. “Maybe next time we’ll bring camping supplies.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” Jayde gave me a quick kiss before getting up. “Come on, I’ll give you a piggy-back ride home.”

“That sounds like a great plan.” I said excitedly, jumping up to pack our things for the walk back to the Lodge.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Dawson Grace

Story Post; I’m real proud of this one. :-)

After two days at APID, Nathan's sprain was starting to feel like it was almost healed. He walked on it a bit during the day but at night he was told the wolf would limp around his room looking for food. The guards on duty in his ward were given a small supply of food to toss in for him but ultimately it wasn’t enough to sate his appetite and he woke up very hungry every day. Reid had examined his neck wound when it had needed new dressing and it was confirmed as an animal bite, likely a wolf. Any deeper, and it could have been fatal. But it was healing fast so he didn’t have to worry about it. Reid had also had the chance now to look at Nathan in his wolf form and on the second morning, he had information he needed to divulge to the Kindergarten teacher. Nathan brought his breakfast up to Reid's office with him because he couldn’t believe how hungry he was now that the wolf couldn’t hunt. “Can you believe I was trying to transition into vegetarianism before I was bitten?” Nathan asked, picking up a piece of bacon off his bacon pile of a plate and shoving it in his face.

“Everyone always says they're trying to go vegetarian,” Reid said. “It's when they actually are that counts… And even then, it's a lost cause. This world is doomed regardless of what we eat now… Anyway, I'd like to talk to you about something rather unusual that I observed about you as the wolf.” “Okay,” Nathan said, trying to ignore the doctor's nihilistic statement. “Are you aware that when you become the wolf…” Reid said pulling up pictures on his computer. “…you also become female?” Nathan frowned. “I'm sorry… What?” “A guard noticed it the night before so last night after your transformation, we sedated you and took a proper look,” Reid said, turning his monitor for Nathan to see. They were close up photographs of the wolf's genitalia and chest. “Your wolf form is female.” Nathan's eyes widened. “You've got to be kidding… That's me?” “Aye.” “So you took pictures of my private parts?” “To show you. You understand that at this time, you were an animal.” “Wolf or not, I'm still a human with privacy rights!” “Except that you aren’t human in your wolf form. That's biology.” Nathan put his head in his hands, completely irritated. “…So you're trying to tell me that when I become the wolf, I become a girl?” Reid rolled his eyes. “Yes, you develop a vagina. Nathan, you need to calm down. So far, this has proved inconsequential, however it does give us more information about your condition and raises more questions. Like ‘Why do you become female?’ ‘Is this standard for werewolves?’ ‘Does this have something to do with the female that attacked you the other night?’ It's a lead, Nathan.” “Reid, I'm a lot more concerned with the fact that I have a literal sex change every night the moon wants to fuck me up!” Nathan said standing up. “Nathan. You need to sit down and calm down,” Reid said in a serious tone. “You have lycanthropy. You should be more concerned with the fact that you become an animal than that you swap sexual organs. What's in your pants doesn’t define who you are.” Nathan rolled his lips and sat back down crossing his arms. He'd forgotten he was talking to a transgender man. “…I'm sorry, Reid.” Reid waved it off. “Now, I understand your frustration but you shouldn't fret. We’re still just trying to help you.” “…Have you updated my case worker yet?” Nathan asked. “I sent out a report earlier this morning,” Reid said. “It wasn’t graphic, if that's your concern.” Nathan shook his head. “It's fine… At least… Now I know what Dax was trying to say before…” “Dax?” Reid asked. “Who, Dax Olivier? The teacher?” “Yeah, I slept over at his place the other day and he thought I was trans because he said he didn't see a dick on the wolf,” Nathan said. “You slept over?” Reid's eyebrows bounced. “It's not like that!” Nathan quickly snapped. “We went to another teacher's place for dinner because apparently we'd be teaching his kids and his…nibling. But I turned into the wolf when Dax was driving me home so he took me to his place because he didn’t want to leave me alone at my house or something like that… He didn’t get hurt because I was still injured so the wolf was really chill around him, I guess…” “Sounds like he likes you,” Reid said. “He doesn’t! We just met!” “Why else would he look at your genitals?” “You took PICTURES of my genitals.” “I'm a doctor. Dax is a teacher. And he probably does like you because I already told you, everybody probably wants to fuck you just a little bit because of the pheromones.” “I really don’t need to hear that…” Nathan said. “I'm not looking to date anyone.” “Understandable considering how your last relationship ended,” Reid commented. “Don’t talk about Hugh,” Nathan said. “I never want to think of that again.” “Well, luckily the quarter should have ended last night,” Reid said. “You can go home and do all the dating you want.” Nathan pulled out his phone and checked his moon cycles. “You're right… But I'm still not dating. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.” “Such a lonely existence for a werewolf…” Reid hummed. “If only someone shared your affliction… Oh, right! Your werebear friend! He's very attractive.” “He kidnapped me!” Nathan snapped. “Did he though?” Reid said. “I had a chance to speak with him when I was stitching up that nasty gash on his face. Claims you did it, and you're an ungrateful little bastard who'll get yourself killed without him watching over you.” “He lied about his name. He's clearly a liar. And a criminal.” Nathan crossed his arms. “He ate people.” “Allegedly,” Reid said. “You should talk to him.” “I plan to,” Nathan said. “I need answers. Do you know where they're keeping him?” “Yes, he's in holding. You'll need a visitor's pass,” Reid said. “High security. Considered dangerous.” “And you want me to date him,” Nathan said. “Just because he's considered dangerous doesn’t mean he is,” Reid huffed. “Off you go then. I'll send a request for them to get you the pass once you're down there.” “What floor?” Nathan asked. “B15,” Reid said. “Code 1315.” “Thanks…” Nathan got up carefully, still a little wobbly on his feet from the sprain. “Whoa, are you good?” Reid asked. “Want your crutch?” “I'll just bring it with me…” Nathan said picking up the crutch and carrying it. He left the doctor's office and went to the elevator to take it down. He wondered if B15 was the lowest floor. The elevator only had a few surface level buttons, and then all the basement floors had to be punched in, some with codes, so Nathan hadn’t a clue how deep the facilities actually went considering every floor after B10 needed a code. When the elevator clunked to a halt and opened to B15, Nathan got out and was met with a small room with a security desk in a cage. “Name,” the guard at the desk asked. “Nathan Cassidy.” A visitor’s pass on a lanyard was pushed through a slit in the cage and Nathan took it and placed it around his neck. A steel door opened beside the cage. “Visiting room, third on the left. Room 1503. Do not enter any other rooms,” the guard said. “Okay. Thank you,” Nathan said, a little surprised at how fast Reid had gotten him the visitor's pass. “Call me.” Nathan blinked then looked at the guard who pointed to the visitor's pass. Flipping it over, he saw a note with a phone number on it. He blushed and just hurried along through the door. Three doors down and he was in the right spot. He walked in a found a very small room with glass divider down the middle through a table with a microphone and chair on either side. No one else was in the room yet so he walked over and sat down. After a few moments of waiting, there was a loud buzz and a door on the other side opened. Kent, or Dawson, or whatever his name was came in, glaring at Nathan. Nathan leaned his crutch on the table and pushed the button on the microphone. “…Can you hear me?” The other man visibly sighed, sat down, and pressed the button. “Yeah.” “What is your name?” “Dawson Grace.” “Why'd you lie to me about your name?” “Kent’s my middle name.” “Why didn’t you say so just now?” “Because Dawson Kent Grace sounds like garbage. Been going by Kent for a long time now. Now why’re you actually here, kid?” Kent asked. Nathan frowned and rubbed his neck. “I want to know what you know about me… Why you saved me.” “I woulda told you if you hadn’t hit me in the face with my favourite rack of antlers and ran off,” Kent said, getting cross. “I’d been hiding for twenty fuckin’ years and now it’s all over because you wouldn’t fuckin’ listen.” “You scared me. And you were holding me against my will,” Nathan said. “I wasn’t… Ugh!” Kent slammed his fist down on the table. “I wasn’t holding you to anything! I was protecting you!” “Why?” Nathan asked, recoiling a bit. “Because you’re fuckin’ helpless, you weak fuckin’ dog,” Kent growled. “If I hadn’t protected your scrawny ass, those other wolves woulda taken you out. They fuckin’ hate you.” “Why?” “No! I’m not answering any more of your fuckin’ questions,” Kent groaned. “I wasted so much fuckin’ time on you and all I get in return is fuckin’ arrested. You know, if they send me back, I could get the death sentence!” “…They still do that?” Nathan asked. “Yeah. They do.” “Well… I mean, I didn’t commit the crime…” “Oh. I see. Of course you believe them.” Kent leaned back in his chair and said something but the microphone wasn't on. Nathan pressed his button again. “…I didn’t hear that.” Kent leaned in real close the glass and pressed the button. “I didn’t kill those people. Alright? I was framed.” Nathan frowned. “Why should I trust you?” “Doesn’t fuckin' matter to me if you trust me or not,” Kent growled. “You're the reason I'm in here. You're the one coming down here wanting answers to your own fuckin' problems. You don’t care about me. You don’t trust me. Why should I care about you? Why should I trust you?” “Maybe I can help you,” Nathan said. “I can…um… I can put you in contact with my case worker, Korsgaard. Or maybe Demers. I heard he’s really good.” “Good at what? I’m an American citizen with a criminal record,” Kent said. “They’ll just deport me.” “Maybe you could claim asylum,” Nathan said. “I’ve heard of cases where people are ordered for deportation and still stay here another fifteen years somehow, despite repeat offences. Clearly there’s loopholes to take advantage of.” “…”  Kent narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” “Maybe I don’t, but my case worker does,” Nathan said. “These guys have a soft spot for nonhumans and whatever. They get that it’s hard to live like we do and sometimes that crosses the line. If you get on good terms with them, they might try to help you out. But you can’t resist.” Kent crossed his arms but then realised this disabled him from being able to talk. He uncrossed and pressed the button. “You’re sayin’ all that like you believe me.” Nathan nodded. “…I might as well.” Kent lifted his chin. “Apologise then.” Nathan frowned and tilted his head. “Don’t give me that,” Kent said. “Apologise.” Nathan sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry…Kent… That I didn’t believe you and got you caught.” “And cut my mug up!” Kent said pointing to the stitches across his face. “And for cutting up your face.” Kent huffed and leaned against the table, pressing the button. “Have you figured out what happens to ya when you transform? You get lady parts down there.” Nathan winced. “Yeah, not new.” “What that means is you were bit by the alpha female,” Kent said. “Alpha female werewolves breed only more females, doesn’t matter if the human has a cock. That’s why they try not to go after men. They don’t want mixed sex werewolves like you around.” Nathan took it in and then furrowed his brow. “…So they’re trying to kill me because I’m a man?” “‘Xactly.” “That’s… That’s crazy,” Nathan said. “It’s not my fault I transformed. It’s theirs!” “Yeah, and they’re trying to clean up their mess,” Kent said. “Took me til the other night to figure it out. I used to just pick you up and drop you back chez you before sun up, so I didn’t know you were a man. Couldn’t figure out why they were after ya until you brought those agents out with ya and I had to keep you at my place ‘til the sun.” “So you… You're the reason I'd wake up in my backyard?” Nathan asked. “Yeah.” “How do you know where I live?” “Scent.” “And you never thought to wait and see who I turned back into?” “I'm a wanted man,” Kent said. “I don't stick around for shit.” “You stuck around Canada a long time though,” Nathan commented. “Canada's big. Almost as big as the States,” Kent stated. “It is bigger than the States,” Nathan said. Kent frowned. “Can't be.” “It is. Look at a map.” “What are you, a teacher?” “Yeah, actually. I am.” Kent groaned. “I fuckin' hate teachers.” Nathan frowned, personally offended. “Why?” “Know-it-alls who think they're making a difference but are just a tool in the education system set on sucking the life and love of learning out of helpless children.” Nathan fumed. “Hey, I… Fuck you!” “Really? That’s your best come back?” Kent snorted. “You need to get off your high horse. You and I are animals, not people. Not to these guys. Not to anyone. They just want to look at us and use us and exploit us. You think they're helping you, but they used you as bait to find me and others like us.” Nathan sighed and glared at Kent. “You act like you're smart but you took the bait. Why?” Kent huffed. “I don't know why. I pitied you, maybe. Thought I could do something good. Clearly I wasted my time.” Nathan grit his teeth. “Pity yourself.” Kent rolled his eyes. “Is that all?” “Maybe…” Nathan thought for a minute. “No, when… When the APID agents were searching for me, they said their technology blacked out. Was that you?” “Oh…” Kent rubbed his chin, scratching at his stubble. “You like that, huh? Nice little alien tech toy I found.” “It's alien?” Nathan repeated. “What does it do?” “Exactly what you said,” Kent said. “I call it ‘the blackout’. No technology within a quarter mile radius can work properly. Stops them from tracking me.” Nathan looked away in thought. “You had a radio though.” “Bingo.” Nathan raised his eyebrows and looked at Kent. “The radio's the blackout machine?” “Did you even actually look at my radio or did you just hear it?” Kent asked. “It can receive radio waves while also knocking out other tech." “That doesn’t sound like it should work that way…” Nathan said. Kent shrugged. “Well it does. It’s alien. They know more than we do about how things work, I figure.” Nathan did his best to take a mental note of everything he’d said so far. “Okay… I think that’s it.” He got up but then thought for a moment and pressed the mic button again. “Thank you. And I’m sorry…I got you put in here, I guess.” He turned and started to leave. “Hey,” Kent said assertively. “Turn around. I’m not done.” Nathan huffed and turned back around, crossing his arms. “You know, you’re really rude,” Kent said. “You come in here, angry at me for givin’ you my middle name, but you never even told me your name.” Nathan blinked, and then blushed in embarrassment, realising he really hadn’t even thought about that. He leaned down to push the button again. “It’s Nathan. Nathan Cassidy. Sorry… I thought…” “Nate, huh?” Kent grinned. “That’s pretty boring.” “I don’t go by Nate. It’s Nathan.” “Whatever you say, Nate. Bye now.” Nathan pursed his lips and huffed before grabbing his crutch. “You’re really… You know what, I don’t even care. Bye.” “You’ll be back.” “Whatever. Dawson.” Nathan left and let the door slam shut behind him.

APID prison uniforms are green because aliens~

Vi: Well, I never... That’s a huge generalisation. Only approximately 14% of known extraterrestrial species and races are green. Lino: Yeah, that’s racist. And...speciesist. 

[syrahnbloodfeather]

Circled by the Wolves Pt 1

Ten minutes after leaving the warmth and embrace of his beloved wife and Ijiro was already regretting this journey. The roaring applause of the pounding rain drowned out bells ringing in the north and the east, with a heavy cloud resting lazily on the whole of the city. What would have easily been a howling blizzard melted into an angry rainstorm thanks to the Eternal Summer’s grip on the High Kingdom, but that only made it more dangerous; if the aqueducts failed for whatever reason, the lowest rungs of the Outer Sprawl would suffer from some serious flooding. Those folks have already endured enough this year. Ijiro did his best to remain vigilant, but in this weather he couldn't see anything beyond a few meters in any direction; all he could focus on was the lantern in his son's hand, which seemed to do more harm than good. Zeth’romas turned the corner and began walking down a flight of stairs, compelling his father to finally say, “Are you sure you know where you’re going? I can’t see shit in this fog, and the rain ain't helping.”

“You probably need glasses, old man. I can see just fine.” He spoke over the rainfall’s chorus. “We’re almost there.” Ijiro opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn’t muster the effort to shout over the rain; he didn’t like being out in the open, especially when he was practically blind by the orange glare of the lantern and the choking morning fog, but he trusted his son more than most. Before long he recognized the long marble pillars arching over his head, and the familiar sound of a thousand raindrops striking leaves and grass instead of cobblestone. He hopped over a puddle large enough to bury his boots in and stepped into the domain of House Hearthdust.

The manor itself was massive. Barely half as tall as the Amber Castle but easily twice was wide, it had to have at least three hundred rooms. When Ijiro and Zeth’romas approached the main door, the nearby guards seemingly ignored their presence until they were close enough to be guided in without a word. “Welcome, esteemed guests.” A slender woman was waiting for them inside, likely told of their coming. “Please, allow us to take your coats and any weapons you may carry. I will escort you to the masters of this humble abode.” Ijiro gave his son a peculiar look, but decided against commenting; he was just happy to bask in the warmth of the nearby fireplace and rid himself of his absolutely drenched cloak. “Right this way.”

Lord Pathis Hearthdust had the foresight to wait in a room near the main entrance. There was a gold encrusted scroll in his hands that certainly looked important, but when he glanced up to see his invited guests, he quickly rolled it up and safely tucked it into his robes. “My sincerest apologies for requesting your presence at such an early hour and under such dreadful weather… but time is of the essence.” Lord Pathis paused only long enough to squeeze himself into a chair clearly not built for an elf of his stature. “Do you know how House Hearthdust amassed our fortune?”

“I don't.” Ijiro pulled out a chair near where Lord Pathis sat and made himself as comfortable as he could. “The story is your house made it by cornering the tavern market, but only fools actually believe that to be true.”

“Correct. Running a network of taverns is certainly a lucrative business, but it's all a front. In truth, we are information brokers. We essentially sell secrets to the right buyers.” A thin smile flashed across Lord Pathis’ lips, but Ijiro wasn’t amused.

“You tell us this now, instead of when you were supposed to? Why?”

“We… didn’t think it was important… at the time.” Lord Pathis nervously scratched at his chin. “We pay twice the tribute - and gladly so. We planned to inform House Bloodfeather once the Amber Glade joined the rest of the Horde to wage war with the Alliance. Truthfully it was your erm… threat… that changed all of that.” With a snap of his fingers the doors behind Lord Pathis opened. Ijiro furrowed his brow at the young boy who entered, a child no older than eight. “This is V’ydaras, my baby brother.”

“M-milord…” The boy squeaked, bowing awkwardly.

“After the attack on the Glade, and your men swept the streets hunting down the Void Elves that ransacked our domain, Daras was the only one with the cunning to look where others didn’t. And his men found this.” Lord Pathis nodded to his little brother and leaned back in his chair. Vy’daras shuffled over to Ijiro’s side with an envelope in his hands. Ijiro turned to give his son Zeth a cautious glance before bringing his attention to the black wax seal keeping the letter closed.

“I don’t recognize this sigil.” He finally admitted, setting it back onto the table.

“It belongs to House Duskthorn. A new house, barely a year old.” Lord Pathis waved at his brother, who scurried to his side. “A Ren’dorei house, Lord Bloodfeather. They are the ones that orchestrated the attack on the Glade. One final question remains… who commanded them?”

“Final question? No… I have quite a few questions. Am I supposed to take your word? Trust you’re telling me the truth, yeah? How do I know you didn’t write this letter, invent this seal yourself, and make up the name of some house I won’t even remember a day from now?” Slowly Ijiro leaned forward to stare at Lord Pathis and his little brother V’ydaras with his single remaining eye. Zeth noticed his father’s right hand was under the table, clutching the hilt of a dagger he likely ‘forgot’ to hand over; he was close enough for a kill, if his wounds haven’t slowed him down enough, but they would never make it out of this mansion alive. “How do I know you didn’t send those men through the breach to find and fuck my wife to death…?”

He was as pale as a ghost, and his little brother looked no better. “I-I…”

“I meant what I said when I addressed all of the great houses.” Anger hung on his every word. “I promised blood. How can you prove this letter is genuine? What are you willing to do to prove your loyalty?”

“Whatever you need to p-put your fears to rest, Lord Bloodfeather…” Lord Pathis stuttered, briefly glancing sharply at his little brother for him to leave.

“Even if it means taking your sister into custody, yeah? What is her name? Alayn, is it?” Ijiro studied his face for any trace of deception; ever since he learned how to play poker so many years ago, he found he had a knack for reading people’s faces.

Lord Pathis was already covered in cold sweat. He swallowed hard before muttering, “Whatever it takes. My Lord.”

[marlenenewton14]

The Fox and the Human Part 2

Warning(s): None

Requested: Yes

Paring(s): Stiles Stilinski x Fox!Reader

Masterlist   Part 1  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

While the four walked through the woods to Deaton’s Clinic, Y/N stayed as a fox. She didn’t trust Liam, mostly because he underestimated her and growled at her. Scott was okay, but there was something about Stiles.

Faint noises of wild animals was heard by the three creatures, and with those noises came the twitching of Y/n’s ears. Stiles watched her with great interest, wondering how a person could go from hating someone to being so fascinated with them so quickly.

“Deaton’s a good guy. He’s taught us all we know about this world. He might know exactly what you are,” Scott explains, looking down at the orange animal.

“And how you were able to speak without being human,” Stiles interjects, and both wolf boys look at him with curious expressions.

“She spoke?” Liam asks, sounding doubtful. Y/N growls at him, and she stops walking to have them face her.

Yeah, asshole, I can speak. I told your Alpha that I am a different creature entirely, and that is just one thing out of the millions that’s different about me and you. She growls, and all three seem stunned.

She sidesteps them, heading off in the direction of a medicine smell.

“So, you’re a were fox?” Deaton asks as soon as the group walks in. The small animal nods, lips pulling back in a form of a smile.

“What do you know about her kind?” Scott asks, to which the Doctor smiles kindly at the Alpha.

“A few things. Her kind is a rare breed, but she is even more rare than her breed. Since you said she can speak in this form, and seem to have orange eyes, that means her mother or father was like her.” Deaton says, and the fox nods.

“Okay, what else?” Liam asks, sounding impatient. Y/N rolls her eyes, snorting though it sounds strange since she’s in her fox form.

“Why don’t you let her tell you. Little one, there is a room to your left that you can change into clothes. I already have some set out for you.” Deaton says to the girl, who nods and walks silently to the other room, taking her time.

“Now, you boys must be gentle with her. I’ve heard about her, the fox with the orange eyes. She’s been through so much, more than you three have been in the few years you’ve been a part of the world here,” Deaton says.

“My mother was a fox, before she was in an accident. My father I believe was human. He left after he said to my face he didn’t love my mother.” Y/N begins, walking in with a large star wars shirt, and some sweats that are three sizes too big. She had tied the strings tight enough to cut off circulation.

All boys turn to look at her, while she tries to not get lost in the scent of the boy Scott calls his best friend. Liam tilts his head at her, and as she sits on the table for animals to be checked out, she crosses her legs as her stomach flops with nerves.

“My kind is different from were foxes in general. I like to say I’m my own breed, my own category in the supernatural world. Since foxes don’t run in packs, the orange eye color is a show of strength. The red you wolves have for Alphas is the lowest, and can you guess the highest?” She asks, sounding really timid.

“Orange.” All three young boys say simultaneously.

She nods, looking down at her hands as she rubs her palms with her thumbs, a nervous habit she picked up years ago. “Were foxes don’t really call supernatural animals by were-whatever they are. Just what their breed is. Wolf, fox, kitsune, jaguar, and so on. It’s um… just a thing we do. And, uh… my little speaking while in fox form is just something that’s been inherited through generations. Telepathy of sorts, but we call it speaking. Stupid, I know.” She pauses, her voice shaking as her nerves grow even more with Liam’s irritation.

“How many of you are there?” Scott asks, trying to calm her down.

“Uh, I’m not sure. Like I said, we’re rare as it is. And with hunters, it’s even worse.” She mumbles.

“Well, I think you should get some rest, pup.” Deaton says, smiling slightly.

“Why’d you call her pup?” Liam asks.

“Young foxes are normally called pups in families. Sometimes it’s kits, like actual foxes.” Y/N pipes up, still playing with her fingers.

“Why aren’t you looking at us?” Liam asks, making the girl flinch.

“Uh.. another reason I’m so different is because I can’t see very well.” She says quietly.

“Ever?” The young boy asks.

“Only in human form. I have to wear glasses. When I’m a fox, my senses are heightened like you would normally think.” She takes a deep breath. “I uh… don’t heal quickly either. Like a regular human. Only when I shift am I completely healed. And, I can smell and hear way better than even you could as a human.”

“That’s different,” Scott admits.

She nods. “It’s sorta like a genetic thing. My mom was the same way, before her accident.”

“Deaton’s right, you should get some sleep,” Stiles says, seeing just how tired and in pain she is by her expression.

“Stiles, are you alright?” Scott asks, and Deaton looks up at the boy. His eyes narrow, while Scott looks concerned at the boy. He’s pale, more than usual, at least, and his heart is racing more than usual.

“Scott, I’m fine.” Stiles says, shifting nervously on his feet. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, and he doesn’t know if he ever will when it comes to the girl.

“Put your hand on Y/N’s arm,” Deaton says, and both Y/N and Stiles look at him.

Stiles listens, and both relax almost instantly. Y/N’s eyes close, and Stiles seems to gain his usual color back.

“Now move it away,” Deaton says.

“What’re you doing?” Scott asks, but Deaton waves him off. Stiles complies, and both tense up again. Y/N even makes a small noise, sounding almost like a whimper.

“Well I’ll be damned. Mates are such a rare thing that only two have happened in the past century.” Deaton says, causing the four kids to be confused.

“Mates?” Stiles and Y/N ask, and Deaton nods.

“It’s not very often, and that’s why even you haven’t heard about it.” Deaton pauses, smiling at the two. “Mates can calm down each other by touch, whether it be skin to skin or clothing blocking the contact. There’s a separate connection that would’ve been only between you two, but she’s a fox with telepathy, so that’s useless. You’re made for each other.”

A/N: I’ll work on a part three. I didn’t want this to be a million words long, and by the way I was going, it would be. Maybe I’ll make this a small series. How’s that sound?

Tag list:

@mf-ad 

@chandramaryu

@roscoeknows

@thearakna-kid

@alexhmak

[hannahindie]

In Which Han and Sandee Get Distracted

Disclaimer: @escabell and I have no clue about what we’re talking about. What I will tell you is that when we looked up A/B/O stuff, we got even more confused and left with more questions than we had answers. Those of you that understand and write about it, I commend you and hope that you aren’t offended by our goofing, but it was too good not to write something involving us grandmas knowing nothing. Anyway, this is just ridiculousness. I pretty much just took our conversation and flipped it into what would happen if the Winchesters walked in on you looking for fanfiction. But then we got distracted. I’m not even going to bother tagging anyone in this because it’s just silliness, but I hope you get a chuckle out of our shenanigans. Also, it’s not beta’d, so any spelling/grammar mistakes are alllllllll me. (P.S. We have nothing against A/B/O at all. We literally just didn’t know what it was and decided to Google it. It wasn’t our best plan. You guys could probably educate us better than what we found. lol)

“They’re gonna kill us if they find out we are looking up fanfiction about them, you know that right?”

I shrugged, “Yea, well...maybe they shouldn’t leave us alone in the bunker. I’m bored, you’re bored, and we have the internet. I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.” Sandee raised an eyebrow, then slowly smiled and nodded. “Also, if we get caught, we’re equally to blame. I’m not going down alone.” I opened my laptop, “Tumblr or….what else is there? Google?”

“Just go to Tumblr, grandma.”

I pulled up the website and signed in using my old account, “I haven’t been on here in years. Let’s see what we can find…” My eyes were immediately assaulted by very naked genitalia and I scrolled down incredibly fast, “Who the hell did I follow that that was an option? Geeze.”

Sandee laughed, “Yea. Like you don’t remember.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled. “I guess I’m just going to look up Sam and Dean Winchester fanfiction. That should do it.” It immediately pulled up page upon page of fanfiction. “Anything in particular we want to look for?”

Sandee shrugged, “I don’t know. I recall this being your idea.” She squinted at the screen as I scrolled, “What’s a ….reader insert?”

I clicked on it and quickly skimmed the page, “Looks like you just add your name as you read it. Not gonna lie, I just tried to pronounce the y and n together. That’s going to be a thing now. A girl has no name. Only Y/N.” I went back to the top of the fic and began reading out loud, ‘I woke up to the feeling of warm leather pressed against my cheek and the smell of gunpowder and whiskey flooded my senses. My vision was blurry as I rubbed the sleep from them as flashes of last night came back to me. Suddenly, I felt a muscular arm tighten around my waist and I suddenly remembered who I was with. Dean Winchester, the man who’d been raised from hell. I was going to have some explaining to do.’ Huh, I should try my hand at this. We both have pretty good experience with the Winchesters, don’t you think?” I wiggled my eyebrows and Sandee smacked my arm.

“You aren’t writing that down. No one needs to know about that.”

I looked at her wide eyed, “I meant hunting, what did you think I meant? What kind of person do you think I am?” I looked at her for a moment then gasped, “You sly dog, you! I was just kidding! How...when...you know what, I’m just….let’s look for more fanfiction, shall we?” I continued to scroll then stopped when something unfamiliar caught my eye. “What...is…this?”

“What?” Sandee leaned forward to look at what I was pointing at.

“A/B/O. What does that mean?” I scrolled through the fic, and though there was some description, still didn’t answer my question. “It looks...complicated. I think I’m going to google it.” I pulled up a second tab and opened Google: what is A/B/O? “Oh, cool. There’s a wiki page for it. Let’s see…” I could feel my eyebrows furrow together as I read and Sandee waited patiently for me to explain. “Sandee, I’m not entirely sure what to tell you. I mean, I get it, but then...I don’t.”

“Just tell me.”

I grabbed my glasses and put them on so that I could continue reading. “Let me just make sure I read that right...okay. So apparently it’s Alpha, Beta, Omega. Like wolves, I’m assuming. So there’s that pecking order. Although it appears that the Omegas can be replaced by Betas, since they are the lowest on the food chain, if you will. Or they can be super valuable because they’re rare. I’ve read it both ways.”

Sandee shrugged, “That’s not that hard to understand. Why are you confused?”

I took my glasses off and tossed them on the table a little harder than necessary, “Are they people? Or are they werewolves? Or neither? Just wolves with human qualities? All three? What are they?”

“It’s fiction, Han. It can be whatever the writer wants, probably.”

I waved my hand, “Like HELL. I need to know.” I scrolled back up to the top, “Oooo, related pages. What the balls is knotting?”

“I don’t know that you should click on that, Han. We can just read it and appreciate it for the wonderful writing. Do you really need to know all the terminology?”

I raised an eyebrow, “Are you telling me that you are not the least bit curious? If we are going to read this, after the writer clearly put in a lot of time researching these things, don’t you think we should understand the subject matter? C’mon, Sandee, join me. Follow me down this wikipedia trail of information we never thought we’d need to know.”

“Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I clicked the link and we both leaned in to read what Wikipedia had to say. Sandee looked over at me and grinned as I frowned at the information I was reading, “I told you.”

“Listen, I have nothing against it, this just doesn’t have a ton of information and for some reason all I can think about is a human shaped wolf. I’m having trouble picturing it. Wikipedia is not super helpful here, and then it just gives me more links to vague information.” I sighed, “I just wanna know what knotting means, man. These writers have put a lot of work into these, I want to know what they’re talking about. The internet is hard.” I backtracked to the original page we’d found and skimmed over it again. “Now, hold the phone.”

Sandee looked back at the computer screen, “What?”

I pointed at what I had just read, “Read that. You read that and tell me how that would work?”

I watched as Sandee’s mouth moved silently as she read the paragraph I’d pointed to, then scrunched her nose, “Well...I mean...I don’t know. They’d probably just do it like you would normally do it.”

“That says that Omega males give birth. How in the hell does that work? Do they...where….how? HOW?”

“Why don’t you just ask Siri?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, “Siri, can an omega poop a baby?”

“OK, I found this on the web for ‘can an omega poop a baby?’ “

“First of all, that British voice is condescending. I feel like he is judging us. Also, those search results are not helpful. I don’t care about babies pooping, I care about Omega males pooping out babies.”

Sandee grabbed the computer and began typing, “The answers are there, you just know have to know where to look.”

I crossed my arms, “So you know where to find information on males giving birth to what may or may not be wolf babies?”

Sandee shrugged, “I have a particular set of skills.”

Meanwhile…

“I wonder what the girls have been up to today. It’s been awhile since they’ve been left on their own. I hope they didn’t get too bored.”

Dean shrugged, “Sammy, they’re grown women. They can entertain themselves. They’ve got Netflix, and who knows, maybe they even decided to do some research. Hannah and Sandee both like to look stuff up, I’m sure they found something interesting.” Dean put the Impala in park and both Winchesters made their way from the garage and up through the kitchen. Dean put a hand out to stop Sam.

“What?”

“Do you hear that?”

“It sounds like Sandee and Han talking, why?”

“I wanna know what they’re talking about. If we’re quiet enough, we can probably eavesdrop a little.”

Sam frowned, “Why would you want to do that?”

Dean smirked, “I wanna know if Sandee is talking about me.”

Sam crossed his arms, “And why would she be….oh. Oh. Dammit, Dean. Seriously?”

“I’m not gonna mess it up, Sam. It just happened, and it’s awesome. Got anything else to say about it?”

Sam smiled, “Nah. Let’s see what they’re talking about.” They crept into the library and stopped just outside the door.

“Why don’t you just ask Siri? Siri, can an omega poop a baby?”

“OK, I found this on the web for ‘can an omega poop a baby?’ “

“First of all, that British voice is condescending. I feel like he is judging us. Also, those search results are not helpful. I don’t care about babies pooping, I care about Omega males pooping out babies.”

“The answers are there, you just know have to know where to look.”

“So you know where to find information on males giving birth to what may or may not be wolf babies?”

“I have a particular set of skills.”

“What the hell?” Dean couldn’t help but exclaim as he and Sam walked into the library. Both girls paused, then slowly turned to face Sam and Dean. “What are you guys doing? What’s this about men pooping babies?”

Hannah grabbed her laptop and closed it, stood, and slowly backed towards the other doorway as she threw a quick glance at Sandee, “We will never speak of this again.” She bolted, leaving Sandee to deal with the two very confused Winchesters.

“Well, you see...there’s this….we were looking at...you know, there’s not a good explanation for this.”

Sam laughed, “Yep, you’re meant for each other.” He shook his head and walked out of the room.

“Seriously, what were you guys talking about?”

Sandee laughed, “It’s probably best that you didn’t know. Although it’s become very apparent that Han is literally a grumpy old grandma when it comes to using technology.”