#werewolf!tony

[polarspaz]

More doodles of some good boys.

[rainbowbatsy]

MONSTER PERRIADO 🗣️🔥‼️‼️

[venomous-soliloquy]

WIP

Witch Tony and Werewolf Steve having some fun~

[rea-grimm]

I finally finished the last character.

Phoenix Ace, dragon Luffy, griffin Sabo

Oni demon Zoro, yetti Chopper (or Bigfoot), corpse Sanji

Werewolf Shanks, kitsune Buggy, demon Mihawk

Robot Kid, fallen god Crocodile, dullahan Law

One Piece Masterlist

[unholyhelbig]

I for one would not mind more werewolf kate

Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [6/?]

Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.

Trigger warnings: Hunting, the actual werewolf transformation, restraints (hands, legs, neck), bloody & Gore, pet names, let me know if I've forgotten anything pls.

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]

[A/n: I was really fucking sad when I wrote this, and for that, I apoloigize. This isn't a gentle chapter, so please read with caution. And as always, I did not proof read].

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

A rot of leaves coated the forest floor, filling your lungs with an unsettling pungent scent. The world had blurred edges, somehow caving in on itself with each passing second. The trees whizzed past you, an ache that once covered your entire being had ebbed away the faster you ran.

There was such an intoxicating scent that led you blindly. It was floral and sweet and screamed above all the deteriorating vegetation. You’d run so far, so fast and without hesitation. What was that? You needed to sink your teeth into it, to taste it. You would simply die if you didn’t.

It was a girl. Yes. A girl.

She was running too, but not nearly with enough speed as you. She stumbled over fallen logs and branches dug into her skin. They created gashes of dripping red that made you salivate. She was cornered against a fence, fingers curling around the chain link.

You regarded her, taking a moment to register the hot pain in your chest. How far had you followed her? It was ways from home, you knew that much, but none of that seemed to matter. No- because she was right in front of you, and she was captivating.

In your excitement, you took a careful step forward and a small noise escaped her throat. Her eyes were frantic as she took in your hulking and animalistic stature. She was afraid, and part of you was too. Something had led you to her, to this sadistic chase that had cornered you both.

Her blood tasted sweet just like her scent. Your teeth crushed bone, tore through tendons with such a simple ease.

She was yours.

Sweat had soaked through your sheets and clung to your bare legs, even as you shot up and pulled in a helping of air. Your skin buzzed as if it were set ablaze with fever.  The waning moon cast a sickly pale light against the room. Your heart pounded ruthlessly against your chest.

That dream had left you antsy, and horrified. You never remembered your dreams but this one was vivid, almost like it was a memory. The coppery taste made your mouth dry. You were restless, wide awake despite the red numbers on the clock indicating that it was just past 3:00am.

You couldn’t hear anything through the walls that had been doubled down in strength despite your enhanced senses. The house was as good as silent, though you figured it statistically impossible for everyone to be asleep.

The hallway was dark compared to your room, filled with moonlight. You padded a few steps before you stopped in front of Kate’s door. It pained you to be here, begging for some type of comfort. The dream had left you rattled. Afraid.

It was getting closer to the full moon and your thoughts had been plagued with the pain that you’d read about so diligently. Scanning the inked words on a yellowing page was nothing compared to the experience of it all.

Swallowing your pride, you knocked twice, knowing that she could hear you. It took Kate a few moments to untangle herself from her blankets. You could pick up on her stumbling her way across her room until she swung the door open.

The girl tried to be suave, giving you a tired smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Her hair was sleep-worn and springing in various directions. She wore a pair of boxers with little purple arrows against the fabric and a tank top that was riding up enough to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach.

“Hi,” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, pulling your eyes from her muscular frame. Her cheeks were blooming with a fond pinkness. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were freezing, that the sweat you’d produced during the odd dream had dried taught against your skin. A shiver worked its way through you, and you crossed your arms over your midsection, trying to preserve what warmth you had left.

Kate lilted her head and stepped to the side without a second thought. She beaconed you into her room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the moon. Her comforter was drawn back, pillows scattered against her bed. She must have been engulfed in a deep and comfortable sleep, one that you had broken.

It helped, not being able to see the looming structure of the moon. It made you squirm, but the scent that engulfed you, the pure warmth of Kate’s mere presence, calmed your nerves. When she shut the door softly you knew that you were safe with her.

The wolf, that’s what Wanda had called it, knew what it wanted. She said that there was a blind trust that would flow through you with the girl that you’d crawled to and that feeling was only multiplying as the full moon got closer and closer.

“Don’t… say a word.” You turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.

Despite your warning, she smiled wolfishly at you, lifting both of her hands with an innocent shrug. She looked adorably miffed by exhaustion, and that thought annoyed you more than anything. God, you really should hate her. But she looked so warm, so accepting and every inch of your body was howling for her skin against yours.

Kate settled back into bed and peeled back the duvet with an expectant look on her face. Why were you fighting her so hard? Clearly, you were tired. You’d knocked on her door and you hadn’t done that without reason. If you wanted conversation, you would have found Peter and interrupted his late night gaming.

Or maybe even Natasha who couldn’t sleep, just like you. But you did value your life, just a little bit. So Kate it was, a magnet that drew you in. The more exhausted you got, the harder it was to pull away. And really- she had been trying. Right?

Almost as if on instinct, you took her up on her offer and slid into the encompassing warmth of the duvet. There was the scent of lavender, of freshly washed sheets and the metallic breath that she drew in, almost as if she was just as shocked as you were at the action.

Kate cautiously lowered the blanket and the two of you stared at the little glowing stars on her ceiling. You hadn’t seen them since the fifth grade. America didn’t’ have the deep green celestial patterns, but instead a garden of pulsing orange and purple, and yellow flowers.

You could feel the heat of Kate’s shoulder close to yours. You were so cold, even under the blankets and she seemed like the only source of comfort from the dream that lingered so heavily on your mind.

“Do you think…”

The words died in your throat. She turned her head to face you, and after a few moments of building up the courage you turned your cheek against the pillow too, staring into a cloudy grey stare that was marred with sleep, pockmarked with questions.

“Will I ever be able to see them again?” your voice was pinched with emotion. It was fear, the both of you recognized it. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stop it from trembling. You felt emotion well up in your own chest. “I know things will never be normal again, but do you think there’s a chance?”

Kate swallowed the thickness in her throat, voice barely a whisper. “I do.”

You nodded and dislodged the tears that were fighting for dominance. Kate didn’t’ hesitate to reach up and wipe them away with her gentle touch. Her thumb was calloused, but soft. A whimper escaped you as you leaned into her touch. Kate shivered at the contact herself.

“I get why I’m here and I’m grateful for it. The last thing I want to do…” you trained off, listening to the shuttered sound of her breathing. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever.”

“You won’t, y/n.”

The immediacy of her statement brought you comfort. It wasn’t necessarily a reflex, but a belief that she felt deep in her core. You clenched your eyes shut and scooted closer until you felt the full effect of Kate’s presence.

The movements were gentle as you slotted yourself against her, hand laying on her stomach and moving over the softness of her shirt. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively wrapping her arm around you. You pressed your nose against the naïve of her neck, slick with tears of her own.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She quivered with guilt.

You were starting to understand, against your better judgement, why this had happened. Kate found you for a reason, and that tension, that discomfort, that was your wolf fighting for a way to get to her. And you had.

The tears that wet her shirt, the ones that coated your cheeks, they were those of relief. You curled into Kate, taking in her scent, the two of you gripping onto each other like a vice, eventually drifting towards a fitful sleep, shadowed by stars.

There was no such thing as privacy in a house with eleven people. Not when so many of them had a strict regimen of exercise, and healthy eating. There was a stark difference from life at the dorm where people rarely arose before twelve in the afternoon unless they had class, and even that was a gamble.

Instead, you stirred to the sound of a blender and the hushed voices of an indiscernible conversation. That was followed by a very discernible sound of a cell phone camera. Even without advanced hearing, you clocked it in moments.

A small groan escaped you. It was much too early to wake up. You had never been more comfortable in your life, your nose pressed flush against the crook of Kate’s neck. She shifted in her sleep, pulling you closer with an adorably tiny breath.

“Go away,” she grumbled, the words vibrating against your palm.

 You tightened your grip on the fabric of her shirt. God, it was so bright. They’d pulled the curtains back and the sun was in full force. Despite the comfort, there was no way you’d drift back into sleep. That fact alone was solidified when you bolted up at the clearing of someone’s throat.

An odd hurriedness shot through your spine, forehead knocking against Kate’s chin and leaving a throbbing spot in its wake. The girl that was under you let out another small noise at the back of her throat, rubbing her jaw while depriving the world of her stormy stare.

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe of Kate’s bedroom. Wanda had been very clear about the rank in the house, and it was of no shock to you that Natasha was pretty high up there. It was why her simple sound of alert had made your entire body tingle. You knew- your wolf knew- that she was in charge, and that she was there for you.

“I checked your room first,” She stated matter-of-factly. “Obviously, you weren’t there.”

Your cheeks reddened at the predicament you’d found yourself in, and the fact that you were sure you’d heard the click of a cell phone camera. It was almost like your parents walking in on a sleepover that got a little too cozy.

Kate sat up groggily, testing her jaw a few times, “Good morning, Nat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You can go back to sleep. I’m here for y/n. We’re going on a run.”

The wary look you got from the girl in bed next to you wasn’t exactly easing your nerves. She must have gone through this before, and she would truly object if she thought it was something you couldn’t handle. Instead, her hand found yours under the safety of the duvet and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

You knew better than to object to Natasha, so you followed her orders and changed into the closest thing to workout clothes that you’d packed; a pair of royal blue gym shorts and a t-shirt that was from your last trip to the west coast. Sun, fun, and Sand.

She waited by the edge of the front yard, lifting a perfectly sculpted brow at the shirt, but didn’t say anything in acknowledgment. “We’ll do six miles up, and six miles back.”

“Up?” You squeaked out, finally earning a genuine grin from her. She started to jog ahead of you, and it took you a few moments to register that you were meant to follow her. “Back?”

The two of you kept a steady pace under the heavy hand of the sun. You felt sweat slick the back of your neck, legs screaming out in protest. You weren’t much of a runner, and had admittedly eaten one too many boxes of instant mac and cheese. But your body seemed to mold to the pace with no problem. Your muscles strained for just a moment before relaxing into he burn.

“I’m sure you’ve heard from everyone in the house how they handle a full moon.”

“No, actually,” You panted out, “everyone seems to be keeping their distance.”

“We haven’t had anyone new join our pack for years. Certainly, never this violently. Can you blame them?”

No, you really couldn’t’. They had all been so welcoming and understanding. Even Kate to a certain degree. None of that eased the fear and you figured it wouldn’t’ until you actually lived it, until every single bone in your body rebroke and reshaped until you were this insatiable creature that would seek nothing but blood and carnage. It was inside of you now, you felt it just below the surface, and that terrified you.

Your chest was beginning to burn viciously, but Natasha was showing no intention of slowing down. There was an odd need within you to please her, to make sure that you kept up with her pace despite how hard it was getting as the slight incline became a little less slight.

The woods had thickened around you both and you let out a relieved breath when she trotted to a stop on the dirt trail. The collar of your shirt was damp, and you pulled your arms behind your head to fill your lungs with more sticky air. Natasha smiled fondly at you.

“Kate tapped out about three miles back.”

“This some sort of test?” You asked, working your hand through your hair.

“A test, a tactic. Whatever you want to call it. Some of us believe that if you wear yourself out before a transition, it’ll be less excruciating on the day.”

“I read about that the other day, though, they didn’t use the word excruciating.”

“That’s what it is. Don’t let anyone sugar coat it for you, kid. It’s going to hurt and you’re going to feel every second of it.”

You plopped down on a fallen log, pressing your fingertips to your temples. You clenched your eyes shut and felt your heartbeat pulse through your entire body. Never in a million years would you figure you’d be here. Natasha’s scent strengthened when she gave your shoulder a squeeze, prompting your eyes to open.

She was rimmed in the early morning sun, ringlets of russet hair fell over her shoulders. “Come on, I didn’t make you run all the way out here for the hell of it. I want to show you something.”

Before you could object, she started down the path again, this time in a brisk walk. You let out a groan and hauled yourself off the log. When you got to where she had been, you saw nothing but a thick wall of greenery and wood. Natasha was nowhere in sight.

You closed your eyes and tried to pick up the scent of her, the detergent and the lavender and the sandalwood. Upon your second inhale, you picked up in a general direction and frowned. This was all too surreal, you were physically sniffing out a near-stranger that had led you deep into the woods.

Still, you felt a blind trust as you went off the path and continued to track her down. She was about thirty feet into the woods, standing over a pile of leaves, arms crossed over her chest. You felt yourself warm at the proud half-smile she gave you.

When you reached her, Natasha knelt and pushed back the mix of muck and leaves. It revealed two metal doors that reminded you of a summer you spent with your aunt in Alabama. It was unbelievably hot and muggy, and they had a storm shelter that was carved from the earth, the walls damp and stocked with different canned food, though you had never seen a can opener. You didn’t think to bring it up as the two of you huddled close and listened to the howling wind and rain.

“This was a long-game murder plot all along, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not into the long-game.”

Her words weren’t exactly encouraging. The hinges of the doors screamed loudly from disuse and a musty scent washed cruelly over the both of you. Your nose scrunched and Natasha grimaced but didn’t say a word. An automatic light buzzed on, allowing you to see the opened space below.

It was exactly like the storm cellar, and it’s cool interior was a brief solace from the heat of the day. There was a divide a few steps into the space, a steel wall with a door in the center, sloppily welded but with enough strength to stop a beast the size of a mid-sized Sudan.

This door creaked too, and Natasha let it linger open for a moment, staring softly at you, and then back at the room. There was safety in her stance. You knew that she had the full ability to slam it shut and lock you in, but had a deep realization that she wouldn’t.

Another light was on the ceiling, casting a circle of deep yellow. There was a deep smell of dust and dirt, but there was something hard and metallic under that. Your eyes darted to the chains that were attached to the wall, large iron things that were screwed into extra support.

More than that, were the stretching claw marks that pockmarked the walls. They went deep, past the dirt and into the cement. The pads of your fingers ran over the one closest to you. Each mark stretched further than your touch. Chills shot up to your elbow, a breath lodging itself into your throat.

Your other hand clenched your stomach, digging into your ribs. Something significant had happened here. Several significant things. Tears started to form against your eyes and the worst part was, you had no idea why.

“Those are Steves,” she said quietly, joining you within the confines of the cell, lifting her chin to another set of marks. “And Tonys.”

There were dozens of markings, all different shapes and sizes. Some were digging into the clay walls, and the floors. There were distinct scent markings on each one and you found yourself able to identify ones that belonged to Yelena, and Peter, and even Bruce. They’d all changed here at least once.

Natasha crossed the room and shifted the door until it was only slightly ajar. You straightened up, heart pulling against your throat. The door was minced with deep slashes. You shoved your hands into your pockets to keep them from trembling. They almost ached.

“You feel something, don’t you?”

Words didn’t form, couldn’t. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion that tore through you. It was akin to longing, but it was more than that. It was like the creature that was so restless within you wanted nothing more than to claw its way out and find the person who had made those marks. They were desperate and sad, and horrifying.

You closed the distance between them and pressed your touch against the deep gashes and fought back a pained cry. You dug your teeth into the back of your free hand to quell it, but a pathetic sound still escaped you.  

“Kate knew that something was wrong a few months before she escaped. She was experienced, knew as much as one could know about their wolf. But there was an unrest”

“She doesn’t like places like this.”

Your words were small. You remembered what she had told you, about how she had turned the first time alone and, in a room very similar to this one. You got the stark impression that she would never want to do something like that again. So, it begs the question of why these marks were so fresh. So fearful.

“No, she doesn’t. They scare her, make her panic before the moon has any effect. But she was conscious enough to know that if she wasn’t here, then she would end up hurting someone. It just proved not to be strong enough of a failsafe.”

Kate had felt an unrest weeks, maybe months, before she had escaped and sunk her teeth into your flesh. A wash of guilt pulled at you. You’d been giving her such a hard time, pestering her and fighting her every step of the way. She’d been in immense pain.

When the pads of your fingers touched the scratches, you felt only a fraction of the longing she must have. Grimacing, you turned away, crossing your arms over your stomach to shield you from the reality of your harshness.

You needed Kate.

“Is this where I’ll be tonight?” You asked, so softly Natasha almost didn’t’ hear it.

She nodded in response, the silence mulling between you both. A small breath escaped you, pained and held within your lungs for an abnormal amount of time. You crossed the room, picked up one of the leaden chains and weighed it against your own strength.

“I can be here with you, if you’d like.” Natasha said, filling the quiet “Or if you’d rather Steve… Wanda.”

You turned to face her, grip tightening on the chain. “Kate?”

“Kate.”

Her eyes were no longer shrouded in their silver, sullen beauty. As the sun began its descent, there was a strange tangerine glow that overtook them. It started at the center of her pupil, small whisps of neon color, and then started to ebb into the confines of her iris.  

You focused on them. If you thought too much about the days leading up to this transformation, then you would work yourself into a panic. You were taking things one at a time today, and that included jogging back to the compound and shyly admitting to Kate that she was the only one you wished to have in your vicinity tonight.

Though, you hadn’t thought much about the logistics. The two of you trapped in a single cell. Yelena had walked all the way out here, keeping a silent eye on the tension that lingered against both of your frames. It wore your stance down, mind racing with the ‘what if’s’.

“Once I close this door, neither of you will be released until daybreak.” Her thick accent carried a sharp edge to it that made this finite. “There is an emergency radio, Kate knows where it is.”

They’d thought of everything, really. Yelena had handed over a sheathe of needles and a small vile that you knew had to be tranquilizer. It smelled acidic and nitrate in nature. Even your rational, human side, cringed away from it.

With a final nod that conveyed good luck, and a strong, ‘I’m rooting for you,’ Yelena exited the cell and slammed the metal door behind her. From there, she retreated, and another lock was put into place after she’d slithered a coil of chain around the outside doors. Your heart picked-up it’s pace, never one for confined spaces.

Kate seemed to hear the uptake and closed the distance between the both of you. One hand found your waist and you allowed her to give it a reassuring squeeze. The other cupped your cheek, guiding your stare. “Hey, listen to me. I know this is scary, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You believed her partially because you had no other choice. Her eyes were mostly orange now, glowing enough to cast a strange shadow against her face. You wondered dumbly if yours would do the same. Something was boiling inside of you, making your entire body sweat. It felt like you were in a sauna, breathing in the hot steam after water was poured listlessly over black coals.

“I’ll talk you through everything, until neither of us can talk. Then we won’t have to.”

“Okay, alright. That sounds good.”

She nodded at you and began to unzip her sweatshirt until the teeth of the zipper released their hold. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, stretchy material that hadn’t set her back too much financially. They would be torn to shreds by the end of the night, regardless.

Kate’s stomach was toned. It was tanned and showed all the stamina of a beast. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long, tried to ignore the small trail of hair that dipped below her waistband. Despite herself, Kate smiled at you cockily, but moved her hands to your own jacket.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed the dry metal taste in your mouth. “I don’t think my fingers will cooperate right now.”

 She let out a small noise in response and pulled your jacket from your shoulders, leaving you in much of the same. She’d promised earlier that the two of you would go out and get clothes that you were more comfortable in, but this suited you just fine. Her pupils dilated, rushing them in more sherbet color. A stuttered breath escaping her and fanning against your bare collarbone.

“What? Oh my god, is it starting?”

You didn’t feel any different, still extremely hot to the touch and a little riled up after getting a look at Kate’s mostly-bare form. Color petaled her cheeks. She was actually blushing. Even in the dim lighting of the cell, that much was clear.

“No, no. You’re just…” She shook her head, trying to clear it “really beautiful, is all.”

“Oh,”

More blush, her eyes slipping down to the floor. “Yeah. I should probably get you secured, though. It’ll be more comfortable to sit.”

You understood exactly what she meant. Your heart was thrumming through your entire body at the compliment, though you both welcomed the distraction of a task. This task was securing locks around your wrists, and your ankles. Large iron things that could stop a lion. They were bolted into cement, digging into the foundation.

You kept your back against the damp wall, allowing Kate to fiddle with the mass of restraints. She fastened the first cuff on your wrist and looked at you expectantly. “Is this too tight? We want it to be a little loose. You’ll fill out when the transformation is done.”

“It’s alright,”

Kate diligently fastened the other three; one more around your opposite wrist, and two around your ankles. The only thing left was a chain that was intended to click smugly around your throat. She stared at it warily, eyes meeting yours.

“This one isn’t comfortable, and after tonight, you won’t need it.” She stated, using her hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes. Something was coiling in your stomach now, an unrest. A parasite that seemed to want to bubble out of your chest. “Your body will be in fight or flight mode. All of your senses will be heightened more than they are now and you’ll want to get out of these.”

“And if I do?”

“If you do, you’ll have to go through me.”

She fastened the chain around your neck, listening for the heady click. Just like the others, she adjusted and pulled on it until she was satisfied with your capture. A slight noise pushed past your lips. It felt like you had a stomachache, a cramping that would send you straight to a heating pad on any other day.

“I know, baby.” She soothed, the pet name slipping past her. She frowned, then lightened her stare. “I know it hurts. I’m right here. I’m with you.”

Her words soothed you. She backed up and sat cross-legged in front of you. There was an admiration of her control. Sweat prickled against her upper lip and at her hairline. It was an indication that you weren’t alone in this. Though, Kate Bishop had more practice, pain was eternal.

“You said I’d have to go through you,” your words were trembling. It took a few moments to force them into existence, but Kate was patient. Your legs and arms were starting to ache, just a dull thrum that reminded you of destroying your muscles to wick them back together again. “What… did you mean?”

Kate smiled and you swore her teeth were pointed at the end. Your vison was starting to blur, and you blinked away tears that dripped from your chin. “We’re not going to fight, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think our wolves- well, I think they’ll get along just fine.”

“Kate Bishop, are you insinuating something?”

“Me? No. Never.”

She let out a grunt, her hand going to her ribcage. There was a dull pop that jolted through her body and you clenched your eyes shut for a moment. Not wanting to see her in pain. Not wanting to see what was next for you.

You didn’t have to wait long. The pressure started to build in your forearm first, a tight pain that shot from your fingers all the way to your elbow. Almost as if your bone was straining against itself, and it was. The crack and splinter of it threw you off your balance with a dizzying amount of discomfort.

A scream tore through your throat, toes digging into the soft, damp floor. Kate let out another grunt of discomfort, dropping her elbow to the ground. Her chest was heaving, pulling air in greedily before releasing as if she never wanted it in the first place. Her efforts were punctuated by a deep and primal growl that took you back to the night in the forest.

All of your limbs were tightening now, two pops from your ribs and an extra one in your ankle. You were doubled over in a blind torment. Your cheek was pressed to the ground, the scent of dirt filling your senses. There was blood here too, so thick and potent that it was if it gurgled against your own tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard her through your own strangled cries of pain. Her voice deep and words miffed by the growing teeth pressing against her gums. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck!” You cried out, the last bit of human semblance you could form. Your own words were minced with agonizing cries and a rumble from the center of your chest that sounded anything but human. It was feral. It was hungry.

Your vison pulsed around the edges, darkness creeping in. You shakily lifted your hand, watched as your flesh became shrouded with gore. It was shredded, dark gray fur sprouting over your knuckles as your skin fell away entirely. Once human nails had been replaced by claws, dripping with your own blood and muscle tissue.

They shined as if you had been baptized once more. Teeth- your own teeth, filled your mouth as they were pushed out to welcome new ones. You’d spit them to the ground, relished in the sweet taste of the blood that filled your mouth, only for you to spit again.

There was a howl, one distant that made your entire body stiffen under its command. You weren’t wailing anymore, and neither was Kate. The two of you had silenced, breathed hard and tried to find your bearings. Your collarbone widened, seemed to stretch like the rest of you. The restraints were tightening as you grew. As you changed.

Another howl cut through the air, this time you had the urge to answer with one of your own. At least, that was the last humane thought you had, before everything went black.

[space-mermaid-writing]

Nesting [IronStrange]

Summary: Tony had never shown tendencies to nesting - upon now.

Author's note: This is pure fluff. Beta by my mutual in crime for any vampire/werewolf related content: @harpywritesfic

 Masterlist | Werewolf Tony Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Word count: 0.8k

Nesting

Stephen entered the lab and noticed the lack of noise immediately. There wasn’t any music blasting at a deafening volume, no steady droning from the small torch Tony regularly used for soldering circuit boards. There wasn’t even the beeping of one of the bots, moving around and causing mayhem.

At the first glance Stephen thought Jarvis had been wrong and there was no one in the lab.

Jarvis was never wrong.

Looking around, the sorcerer noticed a pile of bed linen, that wasn’t usually down here, on the couch in the back of the room. The couch where Stephen normally sat when he was keeping Tony company; reading a book or meditating.

He strongly suspected Tony had bought the couch for Stephen specifically. One day, when Tony had invited him to come over, it had simply stood there.

No one else used the couch.

No one else spent as much time in Tony’s personal lab – besides Peter. But the boy was always working on some project; either alone or together with Tony.

Sometimes Bruce was here, but he and Tony were usually busy with some science talk.

So that left Stephen to be the only person that came here without actually using the lab for its purpose.

Since the couch was now occupied by the bed linen, that was where he went.

Maybe Tony crashed down here, passing out from too much work and not enough sleep. But why go to all the trouble going upstairs and getting the sheets, only to come back?

Stephen got his answer when he stepped closer and the pile suddenly started moving. The head of the werewolf poked out, letting out a small hum when he saw his mate.

By that sound alone Stephen knew something wasn’t right.

“Tony?”

Getting closer, the sorcerer also saw that the pile also consisted of clothes. Mostly Stephen’s shirts from the past days and his night robe. There were also a few band shirts from Tony thrown in. But only those Stephen sometimes borrowed after leaving the bed and before he showered.

He took in the unusual scenery and slowly it dawned to him.

“Are you nesting?” he asked surprised.

It wasn’t a common behavior of Were’s; mostly done by younglings. Tony had never shown tendencies to that upon now.

Stephen sat down on what small space was left next to the big Werewolf and all that stuff on the couch. Tony whined, apparently not happy he was out of reach, and he moved and tossed until he had his head on Stephen’s lap.

The sorcerer buried his hand in the soft fur and massaged his head; especially the part around the ears, like he knew Tony liked.

That seemed to relax the Were, who closed his eyes and melted against his mate’s touch.

“Talk to me, Tony.” There was something wrong, but Stephen couldn’t put his finger on it. He needed Tony to use his words.

But the werewolf disagreed, huffing, and refused to shift back into a human.

Well, Stephen would not force him. So he did the next best thing: sit and wait; and continue to massage his head.

_______

About an hour went by until Tony moved again – when he finally changed his form.

Judging his reaction it actually took him a moment until he realized he was back into his human skin. His body did this sometimes, when Tony was around Stephen and very relaxed.

It was mostly involuntary, which made him grumble softly, yet he made the best of the situation and used his hands to rearrange all the things he had dragged downstairs so that it surrounded him and Stephen.

The sorcerer watched him. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Missed you.” Tony sounded hoarse and Stephen doubted it came from being a wolf. Even if he had stayed in that form for the whole five days the sorcerer had been off-world.

He moved the back of his hand gently on Tony's forehead. The werewolf was radiating heat. Way more than usual.

“You have a fever,” he stated.

“Weres don’t get sick.”

That wasn’t true. They were still part human. And that part could get sick.

“I’m just warm, because I snuggled here,” Tony added. Maybe because he sensed that Stephen didn’t believe him.

“And why, pray tell, did you drag my stuff down here?” Stephen asked him.

“There’s also some of my stuff.” Tony pouted. “Because I was cold. And I missed you.”

Finally satisfied with the setting around them, he returned his head into Stephen’s lap, snuggling up to his mate.

Stephen had stopped messaging him when Tony had shifted. Tony took Stephen’s hand and moved it back onto his head, prompting him to continue.

“Mhm,” the sorcerer just hummed.

Not sick his ass. Good thing he was still a doctor.

[dalt0nyc0]

Lacho vampire au with Lalo being the Salamanca vampire prince taking a liking to Ignacio Varga.

[murrpa]

— honestly, i never could wrap my head around hatred for werewolves, like, why? okay i get the part where our species fought them for centuries but its been forever since.

meeting that guy with colorful eyes, falling a victim 𝒏𝒐𝒕 to his animal instinct to eat my guts, but gentleness of his, kind hearted personality.

he let me place a flower in his hair, but i just wanted to touch it, feel how soft are those long, dark amber locks.

as if my heart came back to life, skipping healthy mortal beats when my eyes locked with his, i wanted to kiss him every time.

my coldness dying down in his presence, and whole world feels like a better place, whistling wind along his soft voice is now a music just to me.

i think i love him, i 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎, my heart is yearning for him every night, i hope he stays till the end of the celebration week.

— gregory sackville-bagg (Mortal Enemies: White Festival)🤍

[katalnitskaya]

My Instagram.

My last year's spooky poster.. Happy Halloween!

I don't really like Sanji's face here.. I should have put in more effort 😔

[puhpandas]

beckory werewolf au on the brain

[jj-jam03]

My boy band of fictional crushes….no I don’t have a problem what are u even talking about

[haveyoureadthisqueerbook]

[unholyhelbig]

Werewolf? I mean... werewolf.

Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [7/?]

Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.

Trigger warnings: Emotional distress? Spelling mistakes

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six, Part Seven]

[A/n: This is not my best chapter, but honestly, I'm so ready to get into the time jump part of this story, that I'm just going to do it].

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

The first time you’d gotten drunk in college was on a bottle of coconut flavored Bacardi. It tasted like nail polish remover that had been manufactured in the vicinity of a resort island, but after three shots it had a nice burn to it. After six, you were starting to realize the appeal of the hard liquor that held a torch next to the candle that was cheap beer.

The next morning was filled with cotton-mouth and regret. You were curled up on a recliner in a frat house, having pulled a throw pillow over yourself to preserve some type of heat. Every part of your body ached and if it weren’t for America stirring on the couch, you would have panicked.  

You sat up much too fast and reached for a football helmet that was idling on the floor next to crushed beer cans and emptied chip bags. You had retched into it and woke MJ up too. She was on the floor, having found a blanket. She’d bite off your hand if you were brave enough to reach for it, but you were too preoccupied with dry heaving to give a damn.

All three of you were mortified that you’d stayed the night in a frat of all places. Silently you gathered your things and ate in silence in the campus cafeteria. You could only stomach eggs. America nearly passed out into her hashbrowns, still having her sunglasses over her gaze.

It was the worst hangover you had ever experienced. It knocked you out of commission for the next two days. Yet, somehow, this was much worse.

The first thing you tasted was dirt. It mixed disastrously on your tongue and made you want to hurl again, but you’d learned your lesson. Swallow it down and wait until you make it outside, or to a bathroom because football helmets were expensive to replace.

Every muscle ached, and as you came to, you realized that you weren’t exactly where you had started your night off. There was a throbbing pain at your wrists, at your ankles and your throat, but nothing bolstering you to the wall. And you knew for a fact that Kate had done everything in her power to keep you restrained.

There was a warm body underneath you, chest rising and falling in a cadence that mirrored a deep slumber. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It was as dark as ever in the cell that they’d placed you in. Just like the structure kept moonlight out, it did the same for the sun. The only indication you had that it was day was the chirping of birds forcing it’s way past the walls. If not for your advanced hearing, you’d be left wondering.

In a pained effort, you lifted yourself onto your elbows. You were marred in dirt, and saliva and russet streaks of what you could only imagine was blood. Your blood. Because you’d dutifully pulled out of the chains that had entrapped you. Not by ripping them from the wall but pulling hard enough to break the clasps.

Still, the cell held in its integrity, keeping both you and Kate locked up for the night. A sigh of relief escaped you as you tucked your chin and realized that you were, in fact, entirely on Kate. Your bodies were slotted together. Bare skin was against bare skin and the contact filled you with warmth. The sense of home.

Her arms had been wrapped around you, holding you close to her chest until you’d stirred yourself, her own dropping to the side. She was still asleep, and painfully unaware of how nude the both of you were. You didn’t want to disturb her by moving, but your skin was on fire at the thought of being this close to her while you were this naked.

As carefully as you could, you started to maneuver yourself off of Kate. She let out a small whimper of displeasure and tightened her grip around you in her sleep. She seemed to be a heavy sleeper to begin with, but with the werewolf hangover coursing through her veins, it strengthened.

She shifted to her side and took you with her, pulling your cheek flush against her chest. You stiffened at the sudden movement but relaxed almost instantly. How were you this comfortable, yet mortified at the same time?

Kate’s rhythmic breathing had lulled you back into a state of calm. You listened to each ex-hale that was punctuated by a small, barely-audible growl. Eventually, you had fallen back asleep in her grasp, breathing in her earthy scent.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you startled at the sound of a lock falling to the earth, the outer doors yanked open gracelessly. Mid-day sunlight flooded the cell. Kate’s snarl was more pronounced now, the two of you moving to cover your eyes from the assault.

Kate moved to cover you with her arm, pressing the length of it over your chest with a dark glare at the second door. She relaxed only slightly when she realized it was Yelena. The woman lifted both of her eyebrows but didn’t say a word when she let the duffel bag fall onto the packed dirt floor.

“I knew we were forgetting something,” Kate rasped.

Yelena smelled of sage, her hair damp from a shower. She was clad in a flannel shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, still as barefoot as ever despite just getting clean. Her arms were over her chest, inspecting the vacant chains and the untouched sedative.

Kate unzipped the bag and gently handed you a pair of pants that were way too long before she reached for her own jacket and handed it over. You didn’t object. The material was soft, and you were more eager than ever to cover-up.

“Malen'kiy volk, how did your first transformation go?”

“I don’t remember much of it.”

You didn’t want to remember. Everything was shrouded in a blinding basin of pain and broken bones. You suppressed a shiver at the thought and instead took the bottle of water that Kate offered you from the bag. You greedily drank through half of it, soothing the roughness of your throat.

Yelena let out a hum “Your wolf is strong, it seems. Breaking through those reinforced chains is not an easy job. We’re lucky you didn’t get past the cell door.”

“I don’t think she was trying to.”

Kate said this softly, focused on zipping your sweatshirt over her midsection. Her fingers were caked in dirt, and she struggled until you easily slotted the metal into the zipper and pulled it up with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“You broke through the chains and then you just stopped. You didn’t even go near the doors. Just me.”

“How do you remember that?” You asked in an astonished whisper. It drew a smile to her lips, teeth still pointed, but in a charming, human way.

“You’ll remember eventually too. The first couple of times will be like last night, blacking out isn’t uncommon. But once you get more acquainted with your wolf, you’ll start to see the world through their eyes.”

“Yes, some even say it’s less of a curse and more of a blessing.” Yelena confirmed, scooping up the bag with one hand. Her nose crinkled and she gave Kate a little kick to the leg. “You both stink. Let’s go back to the house. I’m sure you’re starving.”

All eyes shifted to you when you padded into the kitchen after a long, hot shower that seemed to relax your muscles. They were still unbelievably sore, but some of the tension had been released. It took nearly an hour to scrub the dirt and dried blood from your skin.

The bruising that was around your wrists, and your ankles, and even your throat had been healed before your eyes. The dark, spotted blue and purple had faded to a yellowed ring and then vanished entirely. Your eyes kept darting to the area.

Now you felt incredibly scrutinized in your pair of sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt that you’d never listened to. The rest of the group was in much of the same attire, all looking exhausted and wolfing down the spread of food on the table. Your stomach clenched at the scent. You were absolutely famished.

There was a vacant seat in between Wand and Kate, the only one that wasn’t filled at the table so you quietly took your place. All conversations had stopped when you entered, focus being directed suddenly to the food and to you. The plate in front of you had been piled high with potatoes, and a piece of meat that looked expertly seasoned and cooked to perfection.

Your diet had been restricted to nothing but instant ramen and dollar menu items from taco bell. When your father and stepmother came to visit a few months back, they’d made reservations at a French restaurant that you couldn’t pronounce without sounding like you had no tongue at all. You’d worn your nicest dress that was stored at the back of your closet collecting dust.

You had gotten a serving of pasta that was smaller than your palm and tasted almost floral. You’d dutifully listened to them and answered the questions that they asked about school. All the while, you bit your tongue, trying to foster a relationship with your father again. You’d left with even more resentment and a tinfoil swan that contained the smallest shred of cheesecake.

“y/n,” Steve broke the silence, picking up a bite of potatoes with the prongs of his fork. “How was your night?”

He asked so fluently and without pressure. You’d answer him either way, but with the quiet you thought it would be a harder tone. He’d sat with you up in the library for hours over the past few weeks, answering any questions that you had as you read through the old texts.

“It was good,”

“You’re lying,” Tony said. “It’s never good.”

Wanda nudged your shoulder softly, warmth flooding you “You can be honest with us, sweetie.”

When you glanced up, you realized that all eyes were still on you, with the exception of Kate, who had suddenly become very interested in forming her potatoes into a little mountain that gravy would slosh down. She hadn’t grabbed any from the metal container in the center of the table.

“Yeah, it was awful. In the top three worst experiences of my life. But I blacked out, so I don’t remember most of it.”

Thor let out a boisterous laugh, breaking the silence. It earned a few half-hearted chuckles as dinner resumed. Steve kept his stare on you, giving you a small nod that you returned. There was pride that filled your chest. You’d not only pleased him, but you’d survived your first transformation and had a full month of near-peace and learning until your next one.

Natasha was in deep conversation with Clint, and Peter had captured Kate’s attention as he rambled about a video game that he had to pre-order so the two of them could play together. The entire interaction was warm and caring. You watched them all carefully, how comfortable they all were with each other. It wasn’t how your family had ever behaved.

“Do you miss them?” Wanda’s soft voice interrupted your thoughts, you furrowed your brow and gave her a confused stare. “Your family.”

“Are you a mind reader?”

She scoffed, skewering a roasted carrot with her fork, moving it around like a wand. “Hardly. I’m just good at reading people. And that look in your eyes, I can’t tell if it’s longing or resentment.”

“Maybe a little bit of both.”

You could feel the blush climbing up your neck and past the collar of your shirt. She’d clocked you entirely and you weren’t completely sure she wasn’t a witch. But her eyes were a dark and kind brown, and she hadn’t led you astray so far. None of them had. They’d all been so caring.

“You don’t have to answer, you know. And I don’t mean to pry. You’ve just been through something major. There are perks to what we are; the strength, the speed, the agility. But with the heightened physical aspects come the mental ones too. I’m sure you’ve noticed how strong your feelings towards Kate are.”

“It’s come up once or twice.”

“Mm,” She hummed knowingly “I’m here to talk. I’m here to ask. Do you miss them?”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and considered her question. It almost made your stomach churn. Despite this, you still were ravenously hungry, directing your attention to the meat that was cut nicely on your plate. You stabbed the center of it, watching the broth spurt out. It was hard to miss something that wasn’t whole in the first place.

“My father would send me a birthday card every year on the wrong day. There was a twenty-dollar bill in it, and a sloppy signature. Eventually, the signature turned into a stamp. I’m pretty sure his secretary at the time just kept up the ruse out of pity.

“But the sad thing is, it worked. Every other year or so he’d have dinner with me. The secretary turned into his third wife. We didn’t talk much about anything. He’d ask me about school, but never my mother. It was like she was a ghost.”

Wanda had put her fork down, shoved her plate further away from her to signal that she was done. She ran her finger against the stitching of her napkin.

“My mom is my everything. She worked days at a nursing home and every other night as a gas station attendant and still, it never seemed like enough. We were scraping by. But I worked my ass off for a scholarship.” You swallowed hard, “I miss her. But only her. We never had much, but she made sure what we did have was enough and so full of love.”

The woman reached out tentatively and grabbed your hand. Comfort flooded your body, starting where her touch was and moving across you like a soft blanket. She had a motherly look in her eyes, a quiet reassurance. You could almost feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them back. You weren’t going to show weakness by crying at the dinner table.

“Natasha did everything possible to make me feel comfortable that first time. And I did. But, after all was said and done, I found myself wishing for my mother who had long ago died. There’s something in that love that you can’t find anywhere else.”

You nodded, trying to get past the lump that was forming in your throat. Wanda gave your hand another squeeze, running her thumb over your knuckles. “I know it’s not the same, but I’m here. All of us are. What you did last night was scary, and you were brave. Don’t forget that.”

You mouthed a whisper of a thank you, not trusting yourself to say anything else without letting a few tears escape. Wanda kept her hand in yours for a few moments until Tony mentioned something about dessert. You didn’t’ think you could eat another bite, but then again, you’d be wrong.

“Not everything here is bad.” Kate was worming her way through the miles and miles of foliage that surrounded the property. She seemed to know where she was going, and you followed her blindly. Every inch of property felt the same. Lush trees, a blanket of fallen leaves and dirt. Really, it was beautiful.

You’d never liked the outdoors, had only gone camping as a girl scout years and years ago. But the sun was starting to lower and an orange glow was making it’s way through the forest. There was almost a whimsical fantasy world to be had.

Kate reached out a warm hand to you, helping you over a log that crossed the path. When you’d made it to the other side, she moved to pull away but you held tight. Those dark grey eyes flicked down to your palms and then back up to you in wonder.

Don’t make a big deal about it. Your stare had said. So, she didn’t. Her lip quirked up into a small, tentative smile as she led you further into the woods. Maybe she hadn’t remembered your naked body against her in the haze of sleep. Or maybe, she was used to that, being what she was. What you were. This seemed more significant.

“I don’t think it’s bad. I think it’s weird that you call it a compound, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

She chuckled and gave your hand a squeeze. The two of you walked for a few moments before she stopped. It looked like any other part of the woods. Kate looked at you expectantly. “I want you to close your eyes.”

“You’re not proposing, are you? This is all a little fast.”

“Ha-ha, very funny wise guy. Just close them.”

“Alright, alright.”

You did as you were told, feeling the warm setting sun against the side of your face. Kate continued to hold your hand. It was easy for you to focus on her touch and the world around you. There was nothing but safeness despite your reservations.

“What do you hear?” Kate asked.

At first, the only thing you could pick up on was the sound of your own heartbeat. It was hard to focus, with Kate’s blazing touch on yours. After a few moments things started to become clear. “It sounds like… water.” There was a small rush that you had mistaken for breathing at first. But, soon you were able to pick up on the rush of the current over a rock bed.

“Good girl. What else?”

You frowned, clenching your eyes harder. There was the rustle of leaves being jostled by a light breeze, and the near silent groan of settling bark. There was something more, a different type of breathing that was accompanied by a quick-beating heart.

“Don’t doubt yourself. What do you think you hear?”

“A deer, maybe. I don’t know. It doesn’t sound human.”

Kate let out a small squeal that caught you off guard, lunging forward and wrapping you into a bone-crushing hug. You found yourself laughing, nearly choked with the wild mane that was her hair. It felt nice. Her holding you, proud of you, an incredible warmth blooming in your chest.

“Yes y/n! You got it. You got it on the first try.” She pulled back, keeping her hands on your shoulders.

The setting sun illuminated her, as if she were an ethereal creature. Her grip on you was so sure, so comforting. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, just being under her gaze. Those storm-filled eyes bore into your own, and you wanted nothing more than to give way to the cloying feeling that was building up.

Her stare flicked down at your lips, and then back up to your own. You were suddenly nervous, despite how close the two of you had been these last few weeks, this was different. This was exhilarating. Against your better judgement, you gave her the slightest nod.

Kate’s lips were against yours, tasting of strawberry lip balm and the earth. It was a gentle kiss, her fingers ghosting your jaw, her tongue swiping against your bottom lip. An overwhelming feeling of content fluttered in the pit of your stomach. Despite it’s tenderness, it seemed to end too quickly.

You longed for her, and when Kate moved to pull away, you looped your arms around her shoulders, and pulled her back in, chasing the high that she’d caused with a simple embrace. She smiled against your lips, deepening the kiss until you both had to pull away for air.

“Wow,” Kate breathed, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You laughed softly “I think I might.”

Her hand moved a strand of hair behind your ear, a goofy smile on her face. Things felt light and immeasurably comfortable. Getting through your first transition out of the way lifted the weight from your shoulders and pressing your lips against Kate’s had admonished the rest.

“I want to apologize,” Kate whispered, breathe splaying against your cheeks. Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb running over the redness that had appeared. She’d silenced you. “Before you say anything, I know that I’ve said I’m sorry more times than we can count. But I mean it.”

Her closeness helped her argument. Your entire focus was trained on her. There was a smattering of freckles across her nose and an exhaustive wonder around her eyes. You felt tiredness in your own bones, despite sleeping well past noon.

“You didn’t ask for any of this, and I hurt you, y/n. I will never forgive myself for that, and I refuse to make excuses about this… this pull that I know we both feel. I ripped you from your life and now you’re here, and I don’t want to base this, whatever this is, on forced proximity because I’d feel even more guilty if-“

You cut her off, surging forward and wrapping your arms around her mid-section. You fit perfectly in her arms, her chin resting on your head. It took her a few moments to work the tension out of her body, but she held you tight, breathing you in.

“Kate, if I wanted to leave, I would have found a way.”

She smiled wolfishly “Oh?”

“And no more apologizing. I forgive you.” You pulled back slightly, staring up at her. Kate’s embrace was alluring and grounded you to the earth. “This isn’t something I’ve ever felt before, and I’m scared shitless… but it feels right.”

None of this was part of your plan. You were the dutiful student that had worked for her scholarships and continued to push yourself past your breaking point to keep them. Then, an inhuman girl had dug her teeth into you, tearing through muscle and bone. The same girl that you embraced now had, by all means, uprooted you.

“We don’t have to figure it out now. We have all the time in the world.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, a small smile forming on your lips. “We do.”

[space-mermaid-writing]

"Send me any prompt"

VAMPIRE STEPHEN 🦇

i see a prompt request and i trip and choke and die in my haste to ask for vampire stephen. prepare for paragraphs of inane vampire rambling over discord.

I expected nothing less from you :D Have this 5+1 sequel of 'The Vamp and the Were'. Beta by KJ <3 Everyone listen to 'Secretly A Vampire'. It's very vampire Stephen coded.

Summary: 5 times the team didn’t know Stephen was a vampire and 1 time he didn’t realize they knew

Tags: Vampire!Stephen Strange, Werewolf!Tony Stark, IronStrange, established Relationship, 5+1, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff, revealed secret, whump Stephen, protective Tony

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Word count: 4.8k

Secretly a vampire

1

Stephen stepped through his portal and into the Avenger’s tower. More specifically into a conference room.

“Thank you for joining us today, doctor,” Rogers greeted him.

Stephen answered with a nod and sat down on one of the many free chairs. At least he wasn’t the last one to this meeting. It was the first one he attended. So far he had always refused to go; not because the Avengers were publicly known for hunting vampires – and Stephen was a Vamp.

It was problematic on several levels.

Stephen himself hunted vampires as well but only those who posed a danger to society. Those Vamps who had lost their minds and succumbed to their blood lust.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of those. And they were – rightfully – feared by the public eye.

But there were other vampires as well, living a normal life. At least as normal as life could be if sunlight killed you and your species was hunted down.

Stephen was the best example of those kinds of Vamps.

Well, Stephen was a mediocre example because he was a Master of the Mystic Arts and thus did not represent the norm.

But in his work he distinguished between dangerous and harmless vampires. Just as the Avengers should do it.

Albeit they were a long way from it.

Stark entered the conference room, carrying a mug that held probably an unhealthy ratio of coffee to liquid. He dropped into the chair right next to Stephen.

Tony was the only other person in the room who knew Stephen's secret. He had found out by accident; a mission gone bad. Although it had probably been inevitable, considering how they had circled around each other.

Tony threw a wink at him and Stephen scoffed affectionately. Tony knew Stephen wasn’t a fan of pda – at least outside of what he considered family – and thankfully the werewolf kept his hands to himself.

Clint was the last one to arrive; also with a coffee in his hands. He slid into a seat in the back and Rogers started the meeting.

Stephen listened only with one ear. If he was honest, he was just here to show some Sorcerer-Avengers alliance. And because he got tired of the Avengers asking him to join.

Bored, his eyes wandered to the big panorama window. They were on the east side of the tower and since it was late afternoon there was no direct sunlight coming in. Tony had installed UV filtering windows in the whole tower anyway, so that Stephen could move freely within it at any time of day or night, without worrying about getting burned.

“… they reported traces of vampires in Middlesex, New Jersey.” The map of a neighborhood near the sea could be seen on the large screen on the wall. "So far it's been narrowed down to this area. We'll look into it. Get ready to strike soon."

Stephen's jaw tightened when Rogers circled a specific block in South Amboy. He had meant to stay in the background and not attract attention. But if they keep following that specific lead, innocent people might get hurt.

Given two choices, Stephen always chose the one that protected others; instead of himself. That was why he spoke up.

“Actually, the Vamps in that area aren’t dangerous. Quite the opposite: they proved to be useful in providing valuable information on illegal cargo several times.”

All heads turned to him, surprised – even Tony, although for a different reason.

“Vampires are always dangerous,” Natasha chimed in. Her eyes were as sharp as her facial features. Stephen was pretty sure there was some fae somewhere in her blood line. It would explain so much about her.

The sorcerer gritted his teeth. They didn’t know this was a sensitive topic to him. A very personal one. He refused to back down.

“Not all vampires are mindless beasts. I’ve talked to several individuals who are actually very pleasant to be around. And they don’t kill humans for blood.”

“It’s true,” Tony added and Stephen's eyes shot over to him. Of course Tony backed his partner up.

His support seemed to help Stephen's case, because Rogers gave in. “Alright. But we will keep an eye on it.”

Stephen just nodded.

In a subtle gesture Tony put his hand on Stephen's leg, calming him. It wasn’t really necessary, but it was the thought that counted.

Self-preservation hindered Stephen from revealing more in front of the team. He decided to warn his contacts in New Jersey anyway.

The rest of the meeting he leaned back, listening in silence.

Tony didn’t move his hand away the whole time.

2

The wooden stake to his chest was a surprise. It had come out of nowhere. An improvised weapon, pulled from the rubble of the construction site where they were fighting.

White-hot searing shards of pain erupted from the wound.

Stephen hissed in agony. He managed to whirl a spell at the attacker, but the damage was done. He staggered sideways.

“Doctor Strange!” Peter rushed to his aid.

It had been movie night and he, Tony and Peter had been comfortable on the couch when Jarvis had informed them about the attack. Some other Avengers – who had also got the call – had joined the fight.

Stephen was bent over kneeling, trying to regain control over the pain, when the boy crowded his personal space.

“Are you okay?” Peter, who had no problem facing scary monsters, was overwhelmed by the situation. He had no idea what he could do to help Strange - and the fact that the vampire didn't respond only increased his panic.

“Are you going to die?” Peter’s worried face was hidden under his mask but his voice was breaking. A wooden stake to the heart was one of the big myths about killing a vampire.

Fortunately, a wrong one.

“No,” Stephen pressed between his teeth. And then a not very convincing, “It’s going to be alright.”

Sam landed beside them. His wings retreated into the pack on his back as soon as his feet touched the ground. “Shit, doc. Paramedics are on their way.”

Stephen wouldn’t wait for them.

“I need you to pull it out.” The sorcerer gestured to the stake. He didn’t want to burden Peter with the task. And he couldn't do it on his own; he needed all his strength to hold back his teeth from kicking out. It was a shock reaction of his body to defend itself.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “That looks nasty.”

It probably did. More so because the Avengers thought he was a regular human being. He was probably wondering how Stephen was still standing on his feet.

“I’m a doctor. And I have magic. I will heal in no time.” Stephen’s voice was pressed. Just because he was a vampire didn’t mean he wasn’t suffering. He was indeed in a lot of pain.

Finally, Sam stopped protesting. Instead, he put his hand around the stake; and pulled.

Stephen's lips tightened, wrinkles forming where none existed before. His breath seized – even though a vampire didn’t have to breathe at all. But it helped with the pain. At least that was what he told himself.

Stephen managed to cast a spell that mended his robes, concealing the wound from sight. His vampire powers would take care of that one. He just needed some rest and a blood bag from his refrigerator.

As soon as Sam got the wooden stake out completely, he threw it away in disgust. It was drenched in blood and other liquids the Avenger didn’t want to think about too closely.

There was an angry growl approaching them fast.

Oh yeah, now Sam had to calm down a concerned and very feral lover, who had probably smelled the sorcerer’s blood on the other side of the battlefield, as well as heard his cry of pain.

3

Stephen avoided going outside during the day. Understandably, since it would literally kill him – if he didn’t take precautions. Usually, there was no reason for him to hit the streets in broad daylight anyway.

Usually.

But this was a magic-related emergency right in the middle of bustling central New York, and Wong wasn’t currently available. Which was why Stephen was here, wearing several protection spells so the sun wouldn't burn him to a crisp immediately. The cloak rested on his shoulders, expanding his collar to a full hood to provide extra protection.

The glowing box that hovered six feet in the air in Central Park better be worth this.

Tony didn’t leave his side. Ever since the incident in Australia, this was a sensitive topic between them and the werewolf acted overly protective. Stephen didn’t argue with him. He had learned his lesson. He did accept Tony’s sunglasses though.

“For your eyes,” the Were muttered.

Stephen wasn’t sure if it was meant to protect them, or if they currently betrayed his true nature by turning into a bright shade of red. So he hid them behind the tinted glasses.

It was late in the morning, not yet noon, and the day not too warm. He could work with that; as long as his time outside was kept short. Despite all precautions, he felt a headache approaching.

“Thank you for coming by,” Natasha greeted them, approaching from the side. She and Clint had been the first ones to the scene. But as soon as they had seen that flying box, they had called the sorcerer.

Stephen turned his head to her, shielding his face from the sun with his hand. Even with the sunglasses it felt too bright. And maybe he imagined it, but his skin felt itchy.

Natasha took in the unfamiliar style of the Cloak of Levitation, and the accessory that obviously belonged to Tony. As well as his defensive posture. “Are you alright, doctor?”

Stephen wasn’t surprised she noticed something. She was very observant.

Before Stephen could open his mouth, Tony chimed in, chuckling. “You see, our wizard here has a bit of a hangover. It got late yesterday and we may have opened one bottle of wine too many.” He looked at Stephen with mischief dancing in his eyes, “Next time you should stick to grape juice.”

The vampire didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; it was written on his face that he was not impressed by those words – even with half of it hidden.

When Stephen didn’t object – and really, why should he? This was the perfect excuse – Tony grinned broadly and bumped his shoulder with Natasha. “We should avoid loud noises and bright light,” he stage-whispered, prompting her to follow him towards the weird magic object – and away from Stephen.

4

Bruce opened the door to the supply room – and stopped right in his tracks. “Oh… eh, I’m… I’m sorry, guys…”

He had clearly caught Tony and Stephen in flagranti. Stephen had pushed Tony against the shelf in the back, and was currently working on the soft skin of his neck, right between his ear and his shoulder. His back was to the door and he stills as soon as he heard it open. But he didn’t turn around nor did he make any kind of move.

Tony had his head tilted sideways to give him more room. His hands were on Stephen's shoulders, grasping the fabric of his shirt, while his legs were wrapped around the sorcerer’s hips.

He clearly enjoyed what they were doing very much. His pupils were blown wide and his eyes dark, when he locked them with Bruce.

Tony was slow to react. “Oh… hi, Brucie…” He smiled lazily.

There was a low growl in the room; surprisingly it didn’t come from the werewolf.

“You should leave,” Tony still hazily smiled. “Room’s occupied”

“Yes..sorry…” Bruce shuffled away, his head red by embarrassment.

The haze on his brain lifted enough to ask Jarvis, “What was that about, J?”

“I apologize, Sir. This room has no form of locking mechanism.”

That was something Tony should change. He made a mental note to add a lock to every single door in the compound.

The thought was forgotten in an instant when Stephen started to lick over where he had just bitten Tony. It was to close the wound; and to get Tony’s attention back.

The engineer shifted his focus back on the vampire. He rocked his hips against Stephen’s and elicited another growl from him, this time more needy.

5

Stephen was tired. Not ‘I need to go to sleep because he was a regular living being’-tired. No, vampires were physically and mentally not able to sleep; even if they wanted to. They were undead. And while the dead slept permanently, the undead never did.

This could be exhausting in its own way.

When he joined the Mystic Arts, Stephen learned to meditate, which was an effective way to shut off his mind; at least for a while.

Stephen had been gone from this dimension for a few days and now he craved a drink, a quiet and dark room, and the scent of Tony. Preferably a combination of all three things together.

He opened a portal straight into Tony’s bedroom.

Of course he didn’t find Tony there. The Were was barely in his own bed when Stephen was present. Without him, he probably barely walked in here at all. Plus, the sun had already risen.

Stephen went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Tony always had fresh blood for him available - packed into innocent looking, unlabeled boxes. It made sense; this was Tony’s private penthouse, but he often had guests over; Avengers coming upstairs. Stephen wouldn't want them to ask unwelcome questions.

He took a box and a glass – he refused to stick a straw into it. It would look too much like a juice box and Stephen just knew Tony would make a joke about that.

Instead he poured the red liquid into a wine glass. It was easier for him to hold it with the stem placed between his digits to prevent it from falling.

“Jarvis, where’s Tony?”

“In his laboratory, Doctor Strange.”

The Vamp opened another portal with the intention to at least steal a kiss from his partner, before he retired for the day. He changed his robes into something comfortable while walking through.

“… can you make one that ticks like a bomb, but instead of exploding there will be a small banner popping out that says ‘boom’. And then it will explode… oh, hey doc.”

Stephen realized too late that Tony wasn’t alone. Clint was standing next to his desk, both men leaning over schematics for what seemed to be trick arrows.

Walking up to his partner, Stephen took a sip from his drink.

Clint’s eyes followed the movement of his glass. “Is that red wine?”

Stephen paused, looking down at the red liquid. He was lucky Clint was human and couldn't smell blood over that distance.

He licked over his lips and noticed Tony was watching their interaction rather amused.

“Is that a problem?” he answered with a counter question.

Clint just shrugged. He certainly didn’t judge him, even though it was barely 10 a.m. in the morning.

+1

Stephen was in Kamar-Taj when he got the call from Tony.

“Poison Ivy is attacking Washington DC. We could use some backup.”

Stephen frowned and glanced at his phone. It was early in the morning, which meant it was pretty late on the East Coast.

“Really?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I would also rather work in the lab right now. You coming?”

"Shields are at fifty-seven percent," Jarvis interjects. There was an explosion somewhere in the distance on their side.

"No pressure," Tony reassured either Stephen or himself, the Vamp wasn’t sure.

“Yes, just send me a-”, his phone chimed when he got a message, “…photo.”

“See you on the other side.”

Tony hung up and Stephen opened the photo. It showed a street lamp that was overgrown with vines – just like the sidewalk in the background. Everything was a bit blurry but good enough for Stephen’s magic to work. He opened a portal and with one step he was standing on the other side of the world.

There was chaos in the streets. In the dead of night, they were filled with a sense of urgent as people ran frantically in all directions. The sound of sirens wailed in the distance, adding to the cacophony of fear and confusion.

Stephen detected the general scent of panic in the air; it smelled sour and sharp with a hint of uncertainness.

Suddenly the asphalt cracked open and spiky vines shot high into the air. They chased Peter, who was swinging between the tall buildings.

Stephen summoned sharp and glowing discs and cut the stem. The heavy upper part fell – as the cloak of levitation pulled Stephen into safety – and hit the ground with a loud thud. The lower half of the tendrils, however, continued to move; like cut tentacles, but more angry now. Stephen cut them again, this time right above the ground.

The Iron Man suit stopped next to him midair, opening the face plate. “Thanks for joining. We’re currently dealing with Rose and Thorn, but her plant pets have a mind of their own and they cover a lot of ground here; destroying streets and buildings.”

“They’re Solanaceae.” At Tony's quizzical look, Stephen added, “Nightshades. They probably get stronger during the night.”

“A cousin of yours?”

“Funny,” the Vamp dead-panned. “I’ll do what I can, but our best bet is probably a giant flamethrower.” Fire killed almost everything efficiently, plants as well as vampires.

“Since when do you have a doctorate in botany? I’ll see if I can get propane from somewhere. Might take a while though.”

“Great. In the meantime, I'll take care of the weeds.”

They parted ways. Tony flew off while Stephen moved right next to where more plants breached through the street. He cut them as low as he could reach with his magic even though he knew it would be more effective to get rid of the roots.

At the same time that was more difficult, especially since he didn’t know how deep they went, or in what way they were connected to each other.

The more he attacked them, the more ferocious they got. The plants seemed almost sentient, sensing where he was, even though he remained mostly in the air and didn’t so much as touch the ground with his feet.

It made Stephen hesitate, wondering what exactly he was facing. It wasn’t magic; not really. Maybe – and that was a big maybe – he could find a way to communicate with them and make them leave.

The asphalt cracked in several places right below Stephen. The Cloak of Levitation pulled him back, but the plants seemed to focus solely on the sorcerer. They hit him before he could throw up a defense spell.

Three big branches pierced his torso and Stephen let out a cry, low and anguished that carried through the streets.

The cloak billowed, trying to pull him free. The movement only made it worse.

Another vine yanked the cloak off him. Someone called out for Stephen, but the noise was muffled in his ears.

The vines hurled him around and then threw him through the air. His loyal cloak zipped after him but wasn’t fast enough to catch him before he hit the pavement and tumbled over several times.

Ironically, the plants softened his fall – albeit only insignificantly.

Stephen gasped for air; and immediately choked on liquid. His lung must have been pierced and blood was pooling in it. He stopped breathing to avoid choking.

He propped himself up on his elbows – his hands were shaking badly – before he rolled onto his side. Deep in his stomach, a dark purple orb of anguish seemed to throb with his pulse. His vision was hazy and tinted red. The feeling of bleeding out was all-consuming.

“Stephen!”

The plants around him were burned away by a modified blast as Tony landed at his side. The werewolf crouched down to examine his partner. The suit retreated from his hands and his head. He wanted nothing more than to cradle the man in his arms, but the presence of the enemy was too close.

“Shit, Stephen, talk to me.”

“’m fine,” was what Stephen wanted to say. All that got out was a gurgling noise. Blood ran down his chin. The vampire turned his head and spat it out, even though it sent vile warnings throughout his innards.

He heard the voice of Jarvis, running a diagnostic scan of him: “…as well as his lung and abdomen. He is experiencing heavy blood loss. Immediate intervention is advised.”

That sounded about right.

“You need blood,” Tony observed what Stephen had already concluded as well. He was losing the vital liquid too fast. His throat felt dry, even though he was still choking. And he didn’t have the strength to check but he knew his fingers were sharp claws and his teeth on display. It was his body urging him to hunt.

For now he was still in control of his mind, yet he had to act fast. Or he would turn into a wild beast that would prioritize to ensure his survival.

Tony helped Stephen sit up. He groaned in displeasure as the pain intensified. Then he grunted with horror as Tony took off one arm part of his armor.

“What…you doin’?” he muttered, barely intelligible.

“I told you: you need blood. Don’t argue about it. Not now.” Not while they were in the midst of an emergency. Not again.

Stephen looked at him, shaking his head. He had already drunk from Tony twice this week. It had only been small amounts, but the body of the werewolf needed time to replenish its blood. With all his injuries, Stephen would need more than Tony had to give. Stephen might feel better, but Tony would die of blood loss.

The vampire didn’t have breath left to articulate that; except he was sure that the engineer must have come to the same conclusion.

Tony was also very aware of Stephen's stubbornness regarding Tony’s health.

“..home…” Stephen managed to get out.

There were plenty of blood bags in the fridge. His hand moved to his belt, where his Slingring was normally stored – and he touched right into a deep wound.

The Vamp hissed in pain and Tony saw the blood running down shaking fingers. Stephen knew he barely had the strength to move, much less to open a portal.

His senses grew stronger as he became more aware of possible food sources around them. Surprisingly, he also got calmer. Or maybe his body just got ready to attack at the earliest convenience.

Suddenly he was glad he was too weak to move a lot.

Tony was kneeling behind him, to support his back and stop him from toppling over; his mind running a million thoughts and calculating all options.

If not from him, Stephen could drink blood from someone else. Tony surely could find someone in this city, even though the area was evacuated. He would knock them out personally if necessary.

Stephen would never drink without consent. And animal blood wasn’t sufficient for this situation; it had to be human blood. Or at least humanoid.

A hospital!

They had blood bags in stock. Even though marching in and demanding them would raise questions. Tony would have to be careful not to reveal Stephen's nature.

On the other hand, if he waited too long, Stephen's nature would reveal on its own; when he went feral to get what his body needed.

Suddenly his trail of thoughts was interrupted by another voice.

“What’s your status?”

Rogers was jogging over to them. Maybe he had smelled the lots of blood Stephen was losing. Or he got called on the scene because Tony had ignored his comm for the past however many minutes – right after he had screamed for Stephen.

The sorcerer was trying to make his bleeding, lanky body smaller and shielded away from the Avenger. Showing his vampire features to Captain America – a very famous vampire hunter – would start a whole other kind of mess.

Tony helped him by subtly moving his armored body between them. “The wizard is out,” he explained dismissively. “I have to get him home immediately.”

This wasn’t really his plan; they were too far from New York and Stephen too weak. It was a good enough excuse though. And it gave Tony an idea: if Stephen wore the armor it would – hopefully – protect him; and those around him. It would leave Tony vulnerable in the still ongoing fight, but he would manage.

He glanced to the side where Rogers was still standing, analyzing Stephen's condition. Tony opened his mouth to throw a quip at him, but Steve beat him to it.

“What if he takes my blood?”

“What?” Tony stared at him. He was sure he misheard. Even Stephen stilled in his arms.

Rogers tilted his head. “If your werewolf blood is fine, mine should be as well.” At Tony's distrustful look, he adds, “You forget I’ve got super hearing. And the tells were rather obvious. Now,” he took the last steps towards them slowly, as if he was approaching a wild animal. “I believe we don’t have much time. I give him my permission to take the blood I can spare.”

Tony’s posture became defensive. It was subconscious, his mind still screaming: protect mate!

“Why?” he asked.

“We are a team, Tony”, Rogers said as if that were a very obvious reason. It probably was – under normal circumstances. Then Rogers spoke to Stephen directly. “And you are still Doctor Stephen Strange, even if you’re a vampire.”

Tony was still hesitant, and that said a lot about his experience with people he had trusted and who had then stabbed him in the back. Some even literally.

But then he felt Stephen weakly nudging him and he turned his attention back to the sorcerer. Stephen needed blood now; they would do the talking later. He weakly beckoned Steve to come closer.

The ground shook again, however, nothing broke through it - for now.

Rogers put his finger to his ear and spoke over the comm to the team. “We need some brief cover. South side.”

Stephen didn’t see who else moved in their direction; his focus was on the Avenger in front of him. Tony stayed with him and Stephen trusted him – as well as Rogers – to stop him should he take too much.

Rogers crouched down as well and looked at them, unsure. “So, how do we do this?”

“Your wrist.” Tony nodded towards it.

Rogers pulled the tight sleeve of his suit up and held it out to the vampire. If he had any second thoughts, he masked them well.

Stephen’s trembling hands wrapped around the warm skin. He felt life pulsing in the veins, a lot of it. Water pooled in his mouth; or perhaps it was blood. He wasn’t sure.

Instead of feasting on his meal immediately, he looked up at Rogers, his red eyes asking for permission. Steve granted it – again; this time with a simple nod.

Stephen bared his teeth and pierced the skin with them. On impact, a sound escaped Rogers, rather surprised than in pain – in fact it didn’t hurt more than a needle prick. And then the pain was completely gone. Everything was fine. Maybe he even was a bit too calm about the situation; the vampire drinking from him and the fight around them.

He had heard about a vampire’s thrall – but he still felt in control. A bit light-headed, sure. But not alarmingly so.

Roger’s eyes met Tony’s, who watched him with alert eyes.

After a while, Stephen let go of him and leaned back. He looked instantly better. He was still bleeding but he no longer made that gurgling sound with every breath. His wounds also seemed to be slowly closing. Or at least the bleeding had stopped.

He moved to stand up, but Tony held him back, gently.

“Take it easy.”

And Rogers added, “We got you, doctor.”

Bonus:

“What did he taste like?” Tony asked way too casual and out of context.

Stephen didn't have to ask who he meant. There weren't many people he had drunk directly from recently. "Artificial. Like a snack with a weird combination of flavors.” Looking at the Were he found him way too smug about his answer. “Are you jealous?”

Tony shrugged, ducking his head. It was a tell; he couldn't fool Stephen. “It was just weird seeing you drinking from someone else. It’s an intimate thing. At least it always feels this way for me.”

Because every time Stephen drank from the Were it almost exclusively led to sex.

Stephen pulled him into his arms. “Only because we make it intimate.” He kissed his temples. “What you and I have is special, Tony.”

Tony left it at that, but the scent of a very happy Were invaded Stephen's nose.

[sporkazoid]

gemstone sketches i did to warm up. werewolf keefe and trying to figure out how to draw judy 💔

[comicwaren]

From Werewolf by Night: Red Band #001

Art by Sergio Dávila, Jay Leisten, JP Mayer, Craig Yeung and Alex Sinclair

Written by Jason Loo