As outlined in this post right here, this is more of a WIP list than a true Masterlist. I do have links to my finished works as well as the 1 on-going. I removed the Keep Reading because the length has been significantly cut down, but if it gets up there again, I'll add it back.
Link to my AO3 for those that prefer that.
I tend to forget I have an account on there until someone comments on something I have posted, then I remember to update.
Completed Works
Null Pairing Incubus!Charles Brandon x Asexual OFC Anna Williams.
20 Chapters
Chimera Captain Syverson x Mercenary Captain OFC Amelia Jones
13 Chapters
Feral Instincts Werewolf Reverse Harem with "The Rogues Gallery" Syverson, Mike, Walter Marshall, August Walker, Geralt of Rivia x OFC Stephanie Daniels
32 Chapters
Alternate Instincts A "What-if" of Feral Instincts. Not a direct sequel, you can read one separately from the other and still know what's going on.
Werewolf Reverse Harem with "The Rogues Gallery" Syverson, Mike, Walter Marshall, August Walker, Geralt of Rivia x OFC Stephanie Daniels
33 Chapters
Blood Moon Werewolf!Syverson x Vampire!OFC Annalisa Caulfield
29 Chapters
On-Going Works
Once in a Blue Moon Werewolf Reverse Harem with "The Rogues Gallery" Syverson, Mike, Walter Marshall, August Walker, Geralt of Rivia x OFC Samantha Graves
The next few days passed in blissful silence. The interview, it seemed, had not been live streamed but recorded. The hack job that they did on the footage was sloppy and plain to see, but they had turned Samantha looking terrified at seeing Jonathan into her looking terrified as Walter moved towards her quickly, as the others had surrounded her. It made the story that she was being held against her will seem all that more credible.
As per the agreement, Napoleon had gotten the raw footage, but only after their version had been shared. He quickly, and quietly, shared the actual sequence of events and it went viral in certain circles. The comments on Dayglow’s version quickly turned against them as more and more people saw what actually happened and the continuity of the video was called into question.
Soon people were questioning why Samantha had looked close to panic at seeing her husband, or why she had clung to one of the wolves “holding her hostage” as he picked her up and carried her away.
It also didn't hurt that there were more than a few comments on the wolves personal appearances as well, many of them noting how handsome and well-kept they all looked. Not the savage and barbarous monsters they were told they were. The B roll of Samantha playing fetch with Mike was a source of amusement and comments on how domestic and relaxed everyone looked popped up and spread quickly, as well as the looks of genuine love and affection they gave her, and how quickly they had rushed to protect her.
There would always be people who refused to see the truth of what had happened right in front of them, but those that were questioning outnumbered the zealous.
Walter was in the office on his laptop when his phone chimed and he picked it up, looking at the screen.
Samantha: I need you
Something in the words made his spine stiffen and he set his laptop aside, getting up from the couch and heading into the master bedroom. The coppery smell of blood hit his nose first and he ran into the bathroom, his eyes immediately going to Samantha on the floor by the toilet, blood stark against the white tile floor. She was sobbing as she tried to clean it up with towels, but only succeeded in spreading it around more.
“Samantha!” He exclaimed, rushing to her and kneeling beside her. “What happened?! Where are you hurt?!” He didn't see any wounds that would explain the amount of blood on the floor.
“It's not--I’m not hurt.” She said, her voice breaking. “Please. Please don't tell the others.”
“Don't tell them...”
“Please don't tell them, they can't know. Please, Walter, please.”
“Samantha, tell me what's going on. What can't they know?” That only made her cry harder and she sat back on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She just kept begging him not to tell the others, her broken heart plain to see. Really looking at her, he saw the blood on her hands from trying to clean it up, but the majority of it was on her legs and thighs bared by the oversized shirt she was wearing. “Oh love.”
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to. I didn't know.”
“Samantha, look at me.”
“I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I'm so sorry.”
“Samantha.” He said, reaching out to touch her but she recoiled away from him.
“Please forgive me. I didn't know.”
“It's not your fault.” He said, “I don't blame you. No one will blame you for this. It wasn't your fault. You didn't do this.”
“I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.” He gently pulled her against his chest, tears burning at his eyes as she sobbed against him. Geralt suddenly appeared in the doorway, his eyes moving around the room, looking for danger.
“What happened?” He asked, “I smelled blood.”
“I'm so sorry.” Samantha sobbed and his face fell as he took in the scene, the realization of what happened hitting him. “I didn't know.”
“We need to get her off the floor.” Geralt said and Walter nodded, sliding an arm under her knees and lifting her.
“Please forgive me. I didn't know.”
“Samantha.” Geralt said, going to them, his eyes red. “It wasn't your fault.”
“Take her.” Walter said, “I'll clean this up.” He gently passed her to Geralt who held her against his chest, her fingers twisted in his shirt.
“I'll get her cleaned up in one of the spare bathrooms.” Geralt said and he nodded, watching as he carried her out, Samantha still pleading with them to forgive her. The tears started falling as he cleaned up the blood as best as he was able, at least until it wasn't visible. He sent a quick message to the cleaning company, saying he needed an urgent appointment, getting a confirmation that they would be there within the hour.
Geralt had tucked her into bed when he emerged from the bathroom with the bloody towels, the white wolf sitting on the edge near her, his hand moving over her hair. She had stopped crying but was now staring blankly forward as she lay on her side under the blankets.
“It's passed.” Geralt said, “She should be healed in a few days.”
“I didn't know.” She said weakly.
“We believe you.” Geralt said, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“She should still probably go to hospital.” Walter said.
“Please don't make me.”
“We won't.” Geralt said, “You don't have to if you don't want to.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He said, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. “Rest.” She just nodded, closing her eyes, and he got up, Walter following him out with the laundry basket. The others were in the hallway, leaning against the wall.
“Augusts’ bathroom was the closest.” Geralt said.
“You told the others?” Walter asked and August just nodded. “She didn't know she was pregnant.”
“How far along do you think she was?” Mike asked, his eyes red.
“Don't matter now.” Sy said, sniffling slightly. “And it don't matter whose it was. Now we gotta take care of her.”
“She kept begging me to forgive her, and she didn't want you all to know what happened.” Walter said.
“Why wouldn't she want us to know?” Mike asked.
“Probably scared of how we'd take it.” Sy said, “We know Johnny would take it out on her when it happened before.”
“But we're not--we’d never--”
“She just went through a trauma, Mikey, she ain't thinkin’ clearly right now.”
“We should start taking preventative measures.” Napoleon said, “She may be unable to carry to term, but she can still get pregnant and I don’t want her to go through this again.”
“Agreed.” August said, speaking up at last, a hard set to his jaw.
“Fuck it,” Sy said, “I’ll get snipped if it means this won’t happen again.”
“She keeps blaming herself.” Geralt said.
“This ain’t her fault.” Sy said, shaking his head. “It’s that fuckheads. He probably didn’t cause the first ones, but he damn well made sure they kept happenin’, on purpose or not.” Mike pushed past them, heading into the bedroom, and there was a pause before they followed him. He was laying in bed with her, holding her against his chest as she sobbed quietly.
“I love you.” He said, kept saying, and Sy went around the other side, kneeling down and reaching out, holding the side of her face and leaning in to press his forehead against hers.
“I love you, babygirl.” He said, “And you got nothin’ to be sorry for. This ain’t your fault. It’ll never be your fault.”
The next few days passed in blissful silence. The interview, it seemed, had not been live streamed but recorded. The hack job that they did on the footage was sloppy and plain to see, but they had turned Samantha looking terrified at seeing Jonathan into her looking terrified as Walter moved towards her quickly, as the others had surrounded her. It made the story that she was being held against her will seem all that more credible.
As per the agreement, Napoleon had gotten the raw footage, but only after their version had been shared. He quickly, and quietly, shared the actual sequence of events and it went viral in certain circles. The comments on Dayglow’s version quickly turned against them as more and more people saw what actually happened and the continuity of the video was called into question.
Soon people were questioning why Samantha had looked close to panic at seeing her husband, or why she had clung to one of the wolves “holding her hostage” as he picked her up and carried her away.
It also didn't hurt that there were more than a few comments on the wolves personal appearances as well, many of them noting how handsome and well-kept they all looked. Not the savage and barbarous monsters they were told they were. The B roll of Samantha playing fetch with Mike was a source of amusement and comments on how domestic and relaxed everyone looked popped up and spread quickly, as well as the looks of genuine love and affection they gave her, and how quickly they had rushed to protect her.
There would always be people who refused to see the truth of what had happened right in front of them, but those that were questioning outnumbered the zealous.
Walter was in the office on his laptop when his phone chimed and he picked it up, looking at the screen.
Samantha: I need you
Something in the words made his spine stiffen and he set his laptop aside, getting up from the couch and heading into the master bedroom. The coppery smell of blood hit his nose first and he ran into the bathroom, his eyes immediately going to Samantha on the floor by the toilet, blood stark against the white tile floor. She was sobbing as she tried to clean it up with towels, but only succeeded in spreading it around more.
“Samantha!” He exclaimed, rushing to her and kneeling beside her. “What happened?! Where are you hurt?!” He didn't see any wounds that would explain the amount of blood on the floor.
“It's not--I’m not hurt.” She said, her voice breaking. “Please. Please don't tell the others.”
“Don't tell them...”
“Please don't tell them, they can't know. Please, Walter, please.”
“Samantha, tell me what's going on. What can't they know?” That only made her cry harder and she sat back on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She just kept begging him not to tell the others, her broken heart plain to see. Really looking at her, he saw the blood on her hands from trying to clean it up, but the majority of it was on her legs and thighs bared by the oversized shirt she was wearing. “Oh love.”
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to. I didn't know.”
“Samantha, look at me.”
“I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I'm so sorry.”
“Samantha.” He said, reaching out to touch her but she recoiled away from him.
“Please forgive me. I didn't know.”
“It's not your fault.” He said, “I don't blame you. No one will blame you for this. It wasn't your fault. You didn't do this.”
“I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.” He gently pulled her against his chest, tears burning at his eyes as she sobbed against him. Geralt suddenly appeared in the doorway, his eyes moving around the room, looking for danger.
“What happened?” He asked, “I smelled blood.”
“I'm so sorry.” Samantha sobbed and his face fell as he took in the scene, the realization of what happened hitting him. “I didn't know.”
“We need to get her off the floor.” Geralt said and Walter nodded, sliding an arm under her knees and lifting her.
“Please forgive me. I didn't know.”
“Samantha.” Geralt said, going to them, his eyes red. “It wasn't your fault.”
“Take her.” Walter said, “I'll clean this up.” He gently passed her to Geralt who held her against his chest, her fingers twisted in his shirt.
“I'll get her cleaned up in one of the spare bathrooms.” Geralt said and he nodded, watching as he carried her out, Samantha still pleading with them to forgive her. The tears started falling as he cleaned up the blood as best as he was able, at least until it wasn't visible. He sent a quick message to the cleaning company, saying he needed an urgent appointment, getting a confirmation that they would be there within the hour.
Geralt had tucked her into bed when he emerged from the bathroom with the bloody towels, the white wolf sitting on the edge near her, his hand moving over her hair. She had stopped crying but was now staring blankly forward as she lay on her side under the blankets.
“It's passed.” Geralt said, “She should be healed in a few days.”
“I didn't know.” She said weakly.
“We believe you.” Geralt said, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“She should still probably go to hospital.” Walter said.
“Please don't make me.”
“We won't.” Geralt said, “You don't have to if you don't want to.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He said, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple. “Rest.” She just nodded, closing her eyes, and he got up, Walter following him out with the laundry basket. The others were in the hallway, leaning against the wall.
“Augusts’ bathroom was the closest.” Geralt said.
“You told the others?” Walter asked and August just nodded. “She didn't know she was pregnant.”
“How far along do you think she was?” Mike asked, his eyes red.
“Don't matter now.” Sy said, sniffling slightly. “And it don't matter whose it was. Now we gotta take care of her.”
“She kept begging me to forgive her, and she didn't want you all to know what happened.” Walter said.
“Why wouldn't she want us to know?” Mike asked.
“Probably scared of how we'd take it.” Sy said, “We know Johnny would take it out on her when it happened before.”
“But we're not--we’d never--”
“She just went through a trauma, Mikey, she ain't thinkin’ clearly right now.”
“We should start taking preventative measures.” Napoleon said, “She may be unable to carry to term, but she can still get pregnant and I don’t want her to go through this again.”
“Agreed.” August said, speaking up at last, a hard set to his jaw.
“Fuck it,” Sy said, “I’ll get snipped if it means this won’t happen again.”
“She keeps blaming herself.” Geralt said.
“This ain’t her fault.” Sy said, shaking his head. “It’s that fuckheads. He probably didn’t cause the first ones, but he damn well made sure they kept happenin’, on purpose or not.” Mike pushed past them, heading into the bedroom, and there was a pause before they followed him. He was laying in bed with her, holding her against his chest as she sobbed quietly.
“I love you.” He said, kept saying, and Sy went around the other side, kneeling down and reaching out, holding the side of her face and leaning in to press his forehead against hers.
“I love you, babygirl.” He said, “And you got nothin’ to be sorry for. This ain’t your fault. It’ll never be your fault.”
I've been doing a lot of Cosmic Exploration stuff on my main for the glamours and I started writing a thing with (Seth) Syverson and his Warrior of Light lady friend where she gets back to their house in The Goblet absolutely exhausted from all the crafting she's been doing.
It led to a brief conversation about how the people of his Shard actually went to their moon numerous times.
"And they didn't see the giant swirling chasm of Darkness holding a fragment of an ancient primal? Or the twelve foot tall Ancient Watcher keeping an eye on it?" Because all of the Sources Reflections moons have the same prison of Zodiark on it (as seen in Endwalker and then the post msq patches with Zero and Golbez on the Thirteenth)
"Well doll, if they did, they sure as shit didn't tell the rest of the world."
True to his word, Napoleon kept them on topic, not so subtly steering the questions back to Samantha and the divorce. They tried goading them at every turn; not just Samantha, but the others as well.
“I want to be very clear, Ms. Rogers.” Samantha said, “They are not the reason why I’m divorcing Jonathan. Jonathan is the reason why I’m divorcing Jonathan. Me meeting them was merely a happy accident in hindsight.” Mike reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers and she squeezed it briefly, “I am a wolf now. They are my Mates and I am theirs. It is as simple as that.”
“How did you get infected?” Olivia asked.
“It was an accident.” She said.
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
“She was attacked.” Mike said, “By...not a Feral, but a wolf that had lost control. I was out for a run, smelled blood, and found her. The wolf was long gone. I picked her up and carried her back to Sy and the others so they could take care of her.”
“And the wolf that attacked her?”
“We never found who did it.” August said, “It was a full moon that night, so younger wolves can lose control. It’s rare, extremely rare, but it happens.” His hand slid over her shoulder and she reached up to touch it.
“Why not take her to a hospital or call emergency services?”
“We’re a couple hours into the mountains so cell service sucks and I didn’t have my phone anyway.” Mike said, “With her injuries, by the time they got to us, it would have all been wasted effort. Either she...died from her injuries, or she pulled through and the infection healed her.”
“Why were you up in the mountains and not at the retreat like you told Pastor Graves?”
“I needed to be alone where no one knew where I was.” She said simply. “I needed the quiet and the solitude. While the retreat is certainly very peaceful, you are anything but alone.” She suddenly took in a quick breath through her nose, her head snapping in the direction of the kitchen. “No. No no no.”
“Sam?” Mike asked, looking at her, seeing how she had gone pale.
“Mrs. Graves?”
“Ah, home sweet home!” Came the exclamation, Jonathan walking out from the kitchen, “Though I would have preferred to come in through the front instead of the patio like a member of the staff.”
“No no no.” Samantha whispered, jumping up from her seat and backing away.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Geralt growled as he and the others moved between them.
“This is my home.” Jonathan said, “Come now, Samantha. Aren't you going to greet your husband?”
“A-August. G-Geralt.” She stammered, her voice small.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Napoleon suggested quickly. “Get her out of here.” Walter was the first to get to her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her from the room quickly as she hid her face in his neck. Jonathan tried to intercept them, but August moved, blocking him as Walter disappeared up the stairs.
He held her in his lap on the bed, his arms around her as she shook. They both looked to the door as it eased open, but it was just Napoleon and Sy.
“One the media crew invited him.” Napoleon said, closing the door behind them. “Probably hoping Samantha would look guilty or ashamed. Instead they got her looking absolutely terrified just seeing him.”
“Leon?” Samantha asked, her voice still shaky, “Did you know--”
“Absolutely not.” He said, “If I had known they would be expressly inviting him here, I would never have agreed to it.” The door opened slightly, Mike sticking his head in.
“She okay?” He asked and Samantha pulled away from Walter to open her arms for him, Mike going to her and climbing onto the bed and into her embrace. “Are you okay?”
“I will be once he's gone.” She said, nodding into his shoulder.
“Want me to get you some water?” He asked and she nodded again, letting him pull away so he could slide off the bed and leave the room, the door closing behind him.
Mike went down the stairs two at a time, swinging around the banister with a hand around it and into the hall leading to the kitchen. Grabbing one of her water cups from the cabinet, he held it under the ice dispenser in the fridge door and then under the water dispenser, watching it fill.
“Mike, right?” He looked over, seeing Jonathan in the doorway.
“Yep, that's me.” He said, turning his attention back to the dispenser and pulling the cup away before it became too full, screwing on the lid with the straw.
“You're young.”
“We both know you like’em young, but I'm not your type, dude.”
“Are you enjoying fucking my wife?” He asked and it made him freeze, his jaw clenching before he swallowed past the anger rising in his chest.
“Actually, yeah.” He said, looking at him again and there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “She sure is beautiful when she comes, but something tells you’ve never seen that yourself. Let me guess,” He gave him a quick once over, “Two Pump Chump? Sixty Second Assassin? Can't get it up without a little blue pill? Sounds about right.” Color crept up Jonathans’ neck, a vein starting to visibly throb in his temple.
“She always was a whore.” Jonathan said, approaching him slowly, “So it makes sense she would spread her legs for a bunch of beasts. Do you all fuck her as wolves, too? Fight over who gets to mount that bit--” Mike snapped, throwing a punch at him but Jonathan dodged, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back, slamming him face first into the fridge, leaning in to hiss into his ear. “I'm going to get that little bitch back and then I'm going to punish her for letting herself get tainted and fucked by beasts.”
“The hell you will!” Mike spat and Jonathan twisted his arm making him hiss in pain.
“There's nothing you can do to stop--” A force colliding with him had him sprawled out on the kitchen floor, looking up at Samantha standing over him, fingers tight as claws slid out from under her nails and eyes burning, the color sharpening as her wolf pushed to the surface.
“Don't you fucking dare touch him.” She growled, an unnatural roughness to her voice. “Get. The fuck. Out. If you ever come here again, I will send you to your fucking god in pieces.”
“Samantha--”
“Out!” She snapped, lips pulling away from sharp teeth. He scrambled to his feet, face ashen as he fled out of the patio doors, disappearing around the house. It was over in less than a minute and Mike moved quickly when she suddenly collapsed as if her strings had been cut, easing her to the kitchen floor. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, sweetcheeks, I'm okay.” He said, holding her against his chest.
“What the fuck was that?!” He looked over, seeing the others in the kitchen doorway.
“She went Alpha.” He said.
“No fuckin’ shit!” Sy exclaimed, “Pretty damn sure every wolf in a ten mile radius felt that!”
“What happened?” Walter asked, going to them and crouching down, “She suddenly ran from the room without a word.”
“I'm okay. It was nothing.” Mike said, “Piece of shit provoked me.”
“I saw him hurting him and I didn't--I don't know what came over me. I just needed to get him away from Mike.”
“You protected me, Sam. You're my Alpha and you protected me.” He said, brushing her hair away from her face and pressing his lips to her forehead. “You protected me.”
“Is everything okay in there?” Came the call from the living room.
“Leon, get rid of them.” August said and he gave a tight nod, moving away and back to the living room.
“Come on sweetheart, let's get you off this floor.” Walter said and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up again in a Princess carry.
“You're carrying me an awful lot today.” She said, weakly attempting humor and he gave a small huff of a laugh.
“If I had my way, your feet would never touch the ground.”
True to his word, Napoleon kept them on topic, not so subtly steering the questions back to Samantha and the divorce. They tried goading them at every turn; not just Samantha, but the others as well.
“I want to be very clear, Ms. Rogers.” Samantha said, “They are not the reason why I’m divorcing Jonathan. Jonathan is the reason why I’m divorcing Jonathan. Me meeting them was merely a happy accident in hindsight.” Mike reached over and took her hand, lacing their fingers and she squeezed it briefly, “I am a wolf now. They are my Mates and I am theirs. It is as simple as that.”
“How did you get infected?” Olivia asked.
“It was an accident.” She said.
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
“She was attacked.” Mike said, “By...not a Feral, but a wolf that had lost control. I was out for a run, smelled blood, and found her. The wolf was long gone. I picked her up and carried her back to Sy and the others so they could take care of her.”
“And the wolf that attacked her?”
“We never found who did it.” August said, “It was a full moon that night, so younger wolves can lose control. It’s rare, extremely rare, but it happens.” His hand slid over her shoulder and she reached up to touch it.
“Why not take her to a hospital or call emergency services?”
“We’re a couple hours into the mountains so cell service sucks and I didn’t have my phone anyway.” Mike said, “With her injuries, by the time they got to us, it would have all been wasted effort. Either she...died from her injuries, or she pulled through and the infection healed her.”
“Why were you up in the mountains and not at the retreat like you told Pastor Graves?”
“I needed to be alone where no one knew where I was.” She said simply. “I needed the quiet and the solitude. While the retreat is certainly very peaceful, you are anything but alone.” She suddenly took in a quick breath through her nose, her head snapping in the direction of the kitchen. “No. No no no.”
“Sam?” Mike asked, looking at her, seeing how she had gone pale.
“Mrs. Graves?”
“Ah, home sweet home!” Came the exclamation, Jonathan walking out from the kitchen, “Though I would have preferred to come in through the front instead of the patio like a member of the staff.”
“No no no.” Samantha whispered, jumping up from her seat and backing away.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Geralt growled as he and the others moved between them.
“This is my home.” Jonathan said, “Come now, Samantha. Aren't you going to greet your husband?”
“A-August. G-Geralt.” She stammered, her voice small.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Napoleon suggested quickly. “Get her out of here.” Walter was the first to get to her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her from the room quickly as she hid her face in his neck. Jonathan tried to intercept them, but August moved, blocking him as Walter disappeared up the stairs.
He held her in his lap on the bed, his arms around her as she shook. They both looked to the door as it eased open, but it was just Napoleon and Sy.
“One the media crew invited him.” Napoleon said, closing the door behind them. “Probably hoping Samantha would look guilty or ashamed. Instead they got her looking absolutely terrified just seeing him.”
“Leon?” Samantha asked, her voice still shaky, “Did you know--”
“Absolutely not.” He said, “If I had known they would be expressly inviting him here, I would never have agreed to it.” The door opened slightly, Mike sticking his head in.
“She okay?” He asked and Samantha pulled away from Walter to open her arms for him, Mike going to her and climbing onto the bed and into her embrace. “Are you okay?”
“I will be once he's gone.” She said, nodding into his shoulder.
“Want me to get you some water?” He asked and she nodded again, letting him pull away so he could slide off the bed and leave the room, the door closing behind him.
Mike went down the stairs two at a time, swinging around the banister with a hand around it and into the hall leading to the kitchen. Grabbing one of her water cups from the cabinet, he held it under the ice dispenser in the fridge door and then under the water dispenser, watching it fill.
“Mike, right?” He looked over, seeing Jonathan in the doorway.
“Yep, that's me.” He said, turning his attention back to the dispenser and pulling the cup away before it became too full, screwing on the lid with the straw.
“You're young.”
“We both know you like’em young, but I'm not your type, dude.”
“Are you enjoying fucking my wife?” He asked and it made him freeze, his jaw clenching before he swallowed past the anger rising in his chest.
“Actually, yeah.” He said, looking at him again and there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “She sure is beautiful when she comes, but something tells you’ve never seen that yourself. Let me guess,” He gave him a quick once over, “Two Pump Chump? Sixty Second Assassin? Can't get it up without a little blue pill? Sounds about right.” Color crept up Jonathans’ neck, a vein starting to visibly throb in his temple.
“She always was a whore.” Jonathan said, approaching him slowly, “So it makes sense she would spread her legs for a bunch of beasts. Do you all fuck her as wolves, too? Fight over who gets to mount that bit--” Mike snapped, throwing a punch at him but Jonathan dodged, catching his arm and twisting it behind his back, slamming him face first into the fridge, leaning in to hiss into his ear. “I'm going to get that little bitch back and then I'm going to punish her for letting herself get tainted and fucked by beasts.”
“The hell you will!” Mike spat and Jonathan twisted his arm making him hiss in pain.
“There's nothing you can do to stop--” A force colliding with him had him sprawled out on the kitchen floor, looking up at Samantha standing over him, fingers tight as claws slid out from under her nails and eyes burning, the color sharpening as her wolf pushed to the surface.
“Don't you fucking dare touch him.” She growled, an unnatural roughness to her voice. “Get. The fuck. Out. If you ever come here again, I will send you to your fucking god in pieces.”
“Samantha--”
“Out!” She snapped, lips pulling away from sharp teeth. He scrambled to his feet, face ashen as he fled out of the patio doors, disappearing around the house. It was over in less than a minute and Mike moved quickly when she suddenly collapsed as if her strings had been cut, easing her to the kitchen floor. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, sweetcheeks, I'm okay.” He said, holding her against his chest.
“What the fuck was that?!” He looked over, seeing the others in the kitchen doorway.
“She went Alpha.” He said.
“No fuckin’ shit!” Sy exclaimed, “Pretty damn sure every wolf in a ten mile radius felt that!”
“What happened?” Walter asked, going to them and crouching down, “She suddenly ran from the room without a word.”
“I'm okay. It was nothing.” Mike said, “Piece of shit provoked me.”
“I saw him hurting him and I didn't--I don't know what came over me. I just needed to get him away from Mike.”
“You protected me, Sam. You're my Alpha and you protected me.” He said, brushing her hair away from her face and pressing his lips to her forehead. “You protected me.”
“Is everything okay in there?” Came the call from the living room.
“Leon, get rid of them.” August said and he gave a tight nod, moving away and back to the living room.
“Come on sweetheart, let's get you off this floor.” Walter said and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up again in a Princess carry.
“You're carrying me an awful lot today.” She said, weakly attempting humor and he gave a small huff of a laugh.
“If I had my way, your feet would never touch the ground.”
She was awake, staring up at the ceiling. Samantha knew she should be sleeping, but with the interro—interview in the morning, nerves were keeping her awake. She didn’t know what exactly would be asked, but she could guess that the questions would be aggressive bordering on offensive. They would try to anger them, to reveal their “true faces”, the “demons” they believed wolves to be. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction, and she knew the others wouldn’t as well. Their resolve, their strength, was so much more than her own.
There was a slight shift next to her and Napoleon moved closer, his lips pressing to her shoulder bared by the nightgown she wore.
“You should get some rest.” He pointed out.
“Says the person also still awake.”
“I can run on little sleep with no issue.” He said, “You will be their focus, so you should be rested for it.”
“I never liked doing interviews.” She admitted, “Never liked being on camera. Jonathan always did most of the talking with these things. I was instructed to only speak when spoken to, and they almost never cared what I had to say.”
“I’ll be there to steer the conversation should it start making you uncomfortable or take a turn for the worst.”
“I know.” She said with a sigh, reaching for him under the blanket and finding his hand with her own, his fingers tightening around hers. Taking his hand from hers, he reached up, holding the side of her jaw and turning her face towards him so he could kiss her, her eyes closing at the slide of his lips against hers. She held his wrist gently as she returned his affections.
Sy walked to the front door the next day as the doorbell tone rang through the house, tugging his sleeves straight before opening it. He already knew the jacket would probably get ditched before the day was out and the sleeves rolled up his forearms, Napoleon would just have to deal.
“Mornin’.” He said, looking at the camera crew outside. “Why don’t y’all come in and we’ll get this kicked off.”
“And you are?” The woman in front asked as he stepped aside to let them in.
“Bryan Syverson.” He said, “Call me Sy, everyone does.”
“Where is Mrs. Graves?” She asked, looking around cautiously.
“Out back.” He said, leading them through the house towards the kitchen, “She was feelin’ a bit restless, so she and Mikey are throwin’ a ball around.” They emerged from the kitchen and out into the expansive backyard. Samantha was on the patio by the pool, a lever in her hand that she raised over her head, flinging it forward, a bright tennis ball flying a considerable distance through the air. A sleek black wolf took off full speed after it, kicking up grass and skidding slightly as he came to a stop, grabbing the ball in his mouth and running back.
“I didn’t know she had a dog.”
“Oh, no.” Sy said with a snort, “That’s my brother, Mike.”
“That’s your...brother.” A cameraman said, his small camera already out and filming and Sy nodded.
“My baby brother, yeah.” He said and gave a shrill whistle through his teeth. “Company’s here! Wrap it up!” He saw Samantha’s eyes move to the crew, her smile faltering slightly before coming back, but far more controlled this time instead of genuine. Mike ran past her at a decent pace before jumping into the pool with a splash, disappearing under the water before emerging again at the edge, pushing himself up out of the pool and shaking his head to get water out of his hair, having shifted back while under the water.
“Wish you wouldn’t do that.” Samantha said, “You got grass and sticks in the pool.”
“I’ll run the skimmer later.” He said, wrapping the towel that had been on a lounge chair around his hips.
“Go get dressed, Fido.” Sy said and Mike stuck his tongue out at him as he jogged past them into the house after pressing a kiss to Samantha’s cheek.
“I didn’t know wolves played fetch.” The cameraman said.
“Oh, we don’t.” Sy said, “I keep tellin’ him it ain’t dignified, but fuck it if that boy listens to a damn thing I say.”
“How old is he?”
“He’ll be twenty-five in the summer.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six in the fall.” Sy said and Samantha stepped into her shoes after putting away the ball and toy. Going over to him, her arm slid over his waist and he looked down at her fondly as he held her shoulder. “Feel a bit better?”
“A bit.” She admitted. “Should we get started? We can do this out here or inside. I don’t mind either way.”
“We’re setting up in the living room.” The cameraman said and she nodded before looking back at Sy.
“Are the others ready?” She asked.
“August, Walt, and Napoleon should be and —here’s Geralt.” They looked over as he emerged from the pool house, straightening his tie, Samantha going to him and running her hands over his suit jacket.
“You look handsome.” She said and he gave her a soft smile.
“What about me?” Sy asked and she gave him a look that made him snort in amusement.
“And this is?” The woman asked.
“Geralt Rivian.” He said simply. “You’re Olivia Rogers?”
“Yes, how—”
“Solo told us you’d be conducting the interview.” He said, “Let’s go inside.”
“What do you do, Mr. Rivian?” Olivia asked as they walked back into the house and Geralt blinked at her.
“I kill things.” He said with about as much tact as a brick.
“Geralt is a Tracker with the Pack Council.” Samantha clarified, “He works with law enforcement to hunt down Feral wolves.”
“I—I see.” Olivia said, having gone a bit pale under Geralt’s steady amber gaze. “Sounds like dangerous work.”
“It is.” He said, “But that’s not why you’re here.”
“You kill your own kind?” A cameraman asked.
“Ferals are not “my own kind”. They’re dangerous and should be dealt with quickly.” Geralt said.
“Again, Geralt works with law enforcement, both local and federal to hunt down these wolves and make sure they can’t hurt anyone else, human or wolf.” Samantha said. “He protects people.”
“He just said he kills other wolves for a living.” Olivia said, “A wolf is a wolf.”
“They’re not—” He stopped as Samantha’s hand curled around his fingers, his jaw clenching.
“Geralt isn’t why you’re here.” She said, “I am. You will direct any and all questions towards me. It was already agreed upon that the questions would only pertain to my impending divorce from Pastor Graves.”
The best part of getting older is aging out of the demographic that gets killed in horror movies. I am now the age of the kooky local at the gas station who warns the band of college kids not to go to Camp Murderblood
She was awake, staring up at the ceiling. Samantha knew she should be sleeping, but with the interro—interview in the morning, nerves were keeping her awake. She didn’t know what exactly would be asked, but she could guess that the questions would be aggressive bordering on offensive. They would try to anger them, to reveal their “true faces”, the “demons” they believed wolves to be. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction, and she knew the others wouldn’t as well. Their resolve, their strength, was so much more than her own.
There was a slight shift next to her and Napoleon moved closer, his lips pressing to her shoulder bared by the nightgown she wore.
“You should get some rest.” He pointed out.
“Says the person also still awake.”
“I can run on little sleep with no issue.” He said, “You will be their focus, so you should be rested for it.”
“I never liked doing interviews.” She admitted, “Never liked being on camera. Jonathan always did most of the talking with these things. I was instructed to only speak when spoken to, and they almost never cared what I had to say.”
“I’ll be there to steer the conversation should it start making you uncomfortable or take a turn for the worst.”
“I know.” She said with a sigh, reaching for him under the blanket and finding his hand with her own, his fingers tightening around hers. Taking his hand from hers, he reached up, holding the side of her jaw and turning her face towards him so he could kiss her, her eyes closing at the slide of his lips against hers. She held his wrist gently as she returned his affections.
Sy walked to the front door the next day as the doorbell tone rang through the house, tugging his sleeves straight before opening it. He already knew the jacket would probably get ditched before the day was out and the sleeves rolled up his forearms, Napoleon would just have to deal.
“Mornin’.” He said, looking at the camera crew outside. “Why don’t y’all come in and we’ll get this kicked off.”
“And you are?” The woman in front asked as he stepped aside to let them in.
“Bryan Syverson.” He said, “Call me Sy, everyone does.”
“Where is Mrs. Graves?” She asked, looking around cautiously.
“Out back.” He said, leading them through the house towards the kitchen, “She was feelin’ a bit restless, so she and Mikey are throwin’ a ball around.” They emerged from the kitchen and out into the expansive backyard. Samantha was on the patio by the pool, a lever in her hand that she raised over her head, flinging it forward, a bright tennis ball flying a considerable distance through the air. A sleek black wolf took off full speed after it, kicking up grass and skidding slightly as he came to a stop, grabbing the ball in his mouth and running back.
“I didn’t know she had a dog.”
“Oh, no.” Sy said with a snort, “That’s my brother, Mike.”
“That’s your...brother.” A cameraman said, his small camera already out and filming and Sy nodded.
“My baby brother, yeah.” He said and gave a shrill whistle through his teeth. “Company’s here! Wrap it up!” He saw Samantha’s eyes move to the crew, her smile faltering slightly before coming back, but far more controlled this time instead of genuine. Mike ran past her at a decent pace before jumping into the pool with a splash, disappearing under the water before emerging again at the edge, pushing himself up out of the pool and shaking his head to get water out of his hair, having shifted back while under the water.
“Wish you wouldn’t do that.” Samantha said, “You got grass and sticks in the pool.”
“I’ll run the skimmer later.” He said, wrapping the towel that had been on a lounge chair around his hips.
“Go get dressed, Fido.” Sy said and Mike stuck his tongue out at him as he jogged past them into the house after pressing a kiss to Samantha’s cheek.
“I didn’t know wolves played fetch.” The cameraman said.
“Oh, we don’t.” Sy said, “I keep tellin’ him it ain’t dignified, but fuck it if that boy listens to a damn thing I say.”
“How old is he?”
“He’ll be twenty-five in the summer.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six in the fall.” Sy said and Samantha stepped into her shoes after putting away the ball and toy. Going over to him, her arm slid over his waist and he looked down at her fondly as he held her shoulder. “Feel a bit better?”
“A bit.” She admitted. “Should we get started? We can do this out here or inside. I don’t mind either way.”
“We’re setting up in the living room.” The cameraman said and she nodded before looking back at Sy.
“Are the others ready?” She asked.
“August, Walt, and Napoleon should be and —here’s Geralt.” They looked over as he emerged from the pool house, straightening his tie, Samantha going to him and running her hands over his suit jacket.
“You look handsome.” She said and he gave her a soft smile.
“What about me?” Sy asked and she gave him a look that made him snort in amusement.
“And this is?” The woman asked.
“Geralt Rivian.” He said simply. “You’re Olivia Rogers?”
“Yes, how—”
“Solo told us you’d be conducting the interview.” He said, “Let’s go inside.”
“What do you do, Mr. Rivian?” Olivia asked as they walked back into the house and Geralt blinked at her.
“I kill things.” He said with about as much tact as a brick.
“Geralt is a Tracker with the Pack Council.” Samantha clarified, “He works with law enforcement to hunt down Feral wolves.”
“I—I see.” Olivia said, having gone a bit pale under Geralt’s steady amber gaze. “Sounds like dangerous work.”
“It is.” He said, “But that’s not why you’re here.”
“You kill your own kind?” A cameraman asked.
“Ferals are not “my own kind”. They’re dangerous and should be dealt with quickly.” Geralt said.
“Again, Geralt works with law enforcement, both local and federal to hunt down these wolves and make sure they can’t hurt anyone else, human or wolf.” Samantha said. “He protects people.”
“He just said he kills other wolves for a living.” Olivia said, “A wolf is a wolf.”
“They’re not—” He stopped as Samantha’s hand curled around his fingers, his jaw clenching.
“Geralt isn’t why you’re here.” She said, “I am. You will direct any and all questions towards me. It was already agreed upon that the questions would only pertain to my impending divorce from Pastor Graves.”
She was awake, staring up at the ceiling. Samantha knew she should be sleeping, but with the interro—interview in the morning, nerves were keeping her awake. She didn’t know what exactly would be asked, but she could guess that the questions would be aggressive bordering on offensive. They would try to anger them, to reveal their “true faces”, the “demons” they believed wolves to be. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction, and she knew the others wouldn’t as well. Their resolve, their strength, was so much more than her own.
There was a slight shift next to her and Napoleon moved closer, his lips pressing to her shoulder bared by the nightgown she wore.
“You should get some rest.” He pointed out.
“Says the person also still awake.”
“I can run on little sleep with no issue.” He said, “You will be their focus, so you should be rested for it.”
“I never liked doing interviews.” She admitted, “Never liked being on camera. Jonathan always did most of the talking with these things. I was instructed to only speak when spoken to, and they almost never cared what I had to say.”
“I’ll be there to steer the conversation should it start making you uncomfortable or take a turn for the worst.”
“I know.” She said with a sigh, reaching for him under the blanket and finding his hand with her own, his fingers tightening around hers. Taking his hand from hers, he reached up, holding the side of her jaw and turning her face towards him so he could kiss her, her eyes closing at the slide of his lips against hers. She held his wrist gently as she returned his affections.
Sy walked to the front door the next day as the doorbell tone rang through the house, tugging his sleeves straight before opening it. He already knew the jacket would probably get ditched before the day was out and the sleeves rolled up his forearms, Napoleon would just have to deal.
“Mornin’.” He said, looking at the camera crew outside. “Why don’t y’all come in and we’ll get this kicked off.”
“And you are?” The woman in front asked as he stepped aside to let them in.
“Bryan Syverson.” He said, “Call me Sy, everyone does.”
“Where is Mrs. Graves?” She asked, looking around cautiously.
“Out back.” He said, leading them through the house towards the kitchen, “She was feelin’ a bit restless, so she and Mikey are throwin’ a ball around.” They emerged from the kitchen and out into the expansive backyard. Samantha was on the patio by the pool, a lever in her hand that she raised over her head, flinging it forward, a bright tennis ball flying a considerable distance through the air. A sleek black wolf took off full speed after it, kicking up grass and skidding slightly as he came to a stop, grabbing the ball in his mouth and running back.
“I didn’t know she had a dog.”
“Oh, no.” Sy said with a snort, “That’s my brother, Mike.”
“That’s your...brother.” A cameraman said, his small camera already out and filming and Sy nodded.
“My baby brother, yeah.” He said and gave a shrill whistle through his teeth. “Company’s here! Wrap it up!” He saw Samantha’s eyes move to the crew, her smile faltering slightly before coming back, but far more controlled this time instead of genuine. Mike ran past her at a decent pace before jumping into the pool with a splash, disappearing under the water before emerging again at the edge, pushing himself up out of the pool and shaking his head to get water out of his hair, having shifted back while under the water.
“Wish you wouldn’t do that.” Samantha said, “You got grass and sticks in the pool.”
“I’ll run the skimmer later.” He said, wrapping the towel that had been on a lounge chair around his hips.
“Go get dressed, Fido.” Sy said and Mike stuck his tongue out at him as he jogged past them into the house after pressing a kiss to Samantha’s cheek.
“I didn’t know wolves played fetch.” The cameraman said.
“Oh, we don’t.” Sy said, “I keep tellin’ him it ain’t dignified, but fuck it if that boy listens to a damn thing I say.”
“How old is he?”
“He’ll be twenty-five in the summer.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six in the fall.” Sy said and Samantha stepped into her shoes after putting away the ball and toy. Going over to him, her arm slid over his waist and he looked down at her fondly as he held her shoulder. “Feel a bit better?”
“A bit.” She admitted. “Should we get started? We can do this out here or inside. I don’t mind either way.”
“We’re setting up in the living room.” The cameraman said and she nodded before looking back at Sy.
“Are the others ready?” She asked.
“August, Walt, and Napoleon should be and —here’s Geralt.” They looked over as he emerged from the pool house, straightening his tie, Samantha going to him and running her hands over his suit jacket.
“You look handsome.” She said and he gave her a soft smile.
“What about me?” Sy asked and she gave him a look that made him snort in amusement.
“And this is?” The woman asked.
“Geralt Rivian.” He said simply. “You’re Olivia Rogers?”
“Yes, how—”
“Solo told us you’d be conducting the interview.” He said, “Let’s go inside.”
“What do you do, Mr. Rivian?” Olivia asked as they walked back into the house and Geralt blinked at her.
“I kill things.” He said with about as much tact as a brick.
“Geralt is a Tracker with the Pack Council.” Samantha clarified, “He works with law enforcement to hunt down Feral wolves.”
“I—I see.” Olivia said, having gone a bit pale under Geralt’s steady amber gaze. “Sounds like dangerous work.”
“It is.” He said, “But that’s not why you’re here.”
“You kill your own kind?” A cameraman asked.
“Ferals are not “my own kind”. They’re dangerous and should be dealt with quickly.” Geralt said.
“Again, Geralt works with law enforcement, both local and federal to hunt down these wolves and make sure they can’t hurt anyone else, human or wolf.” Samantha said. “He protects people.”
“He just said he kills other wolves for a living.” Olivia said, “A wolf is a wolf.”
“They’re not—” He stopped as Samantha’s hand curled around his fingers, his jaw clenching.
“Geralt isn’t why you’re here.” She said, “I am. You will direct any and all questions towards me. It was already agreed upon that the questions would only pertain to my impending divorce from Pastor Graves.”
you could always add a Kardashian sized pantry and guest toilet or a big ass outdoor storage for all Sys tools 10 different axes 5 limited editions!? 🤣
with a special super secret hidden compartment ala Mr. and Mrs. Smith where August and Geralt keep all their guns
"Sy, why do you have a Zweihander?"
"For choppin' wood."
"Why would you use a two-handed--you know what? Never mind, I don't want to know."
