Thank you! Timing really matters for this one, so I settled on the end of the story
5) do you have any rules?
The question gives him pause for a moment. "Yes, I mean--I can't hurt anybody, and I have to help the smith--William around the house, and..." He shakes his head, then mutters, "I'm not supposed to leave... but I don't want to, anyway."
10) do you have any triggers?
[He does not know what a medical/psychological trigger is, so you'll have to carefully explain it to him.]
@taylorswift wanted to come on her and make sure your aware that I want to hug you someday.
Funny story I encouraged Joy Wilson, from joy the baker, to loudly proclaim to the world that she will make a Drake on a Cake for Drake, like DRAKE THE SINGER. Because I’m going to hug you someday and so of course she’s going to do promotional material for Drake. AND NEITHER OF US SHOULD EVER LOSE HOPE!
Taylor you’ve got some connections want to make both dreams come true! Because the internet is a truest wonderful and wild place!!
Ps. Your chai cookies were based on a Joy Wilson recipes. Maybe we can all bake for Drake together see it be everyone dream come true!!
Pss. This is too long. Here a screenshot of our conversation yesterday. Love you to Saturn! I will never stop believing it may someday happen!!
Power Girl joins Slade’s ever-growing supporting cast in Deathstroke #14
A lot of things are happening in this issue. We get some answer about what the hell was Slade thinking when he decided to sleep with his son’s girlfriend – namely that she is only with Joey to get to him so he might as well cut the middle man. Speaking of which, Joey started cutting himself.
Meanwhile Rose is still dealing with annoying and silly suitor in form of Hosun, Slade’s former tech guy, who wants to marry her because he hopes this will protect him from Deathstroke’s wrath. But there are some good things as well – it’s possible she might have found her new sword. It needs some work, it got name down right.
And of course Tanya shows up and really steals the issue. It’s clear Christopher Priest has a lot of fun writing her and tries to show her character from many ways. Her love for science is just leaking from the page, but it seems she is also a bit of a dork and a badass, has religious side to her… She is multi-layered character and the only time any of that feels fake is one Harry Potter reference I still don’t understand. I don’t know if she should so easily not recognize Deathstroke, even without his mask – but then again I don’t think Titans during her time on the team even interacted with the guy, especially without mask on. And he did drop his mask and has outfit still modified by Raptor, so maybe some naivety can be forgiven.
OH MY GOD PLEASE WRITE ABOUT LOVESTRUCK WOLF !!!! I AM ABSOLUTELY ENAMORED BY THIS
Anonymous asked:
YESSS GIVE US LOVESTRUCK JOY!! let the pup be a kid and be in love !!! (on that note I’d love to see how Lizzy interacts with the wolf and how the wolf of a joy who loves her acts around her ^^)
In reference to this
Listen I'm not fully happy with this and it doesn't quite encompass everything I was thinking of, but I spent too much time on it not to post it
I present to you:
Puppy Love, or, The Smallest Awoo
A sketchy sketch comic by secretwhumplair
I’ll shamelessly tag the taglist, warning for post-canon fluff @whump-cravings @inkkswhumpandstuff @wolfeyedwitch @whump-blog @whumpsday @myhusbandsasemni @whumpzone @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @briars7 @local-cawcaw @kixngiggles @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question
The wolf knew it was in danger, a danger it could not fight by tooth and claw.
It was pierced in several places - its shoulder, its flank - and its own blood was seeping through its fur along the pain radiating across its body. Its rib burned, its tail stung, and the silver was still biting into its forelegs.
It couldn’t fight much more, even if it had a chance at winning.
From behind its keeper, ducked down, it saw the other humans creeping closer; it could smell their fear.
»Pup?« Its keeper’s voice sounded breathless, trembling.
It whimpered in response. Its keeper had protected it before, it knew nebulously. It could do it again.
It saw the other humans coming closer. Some had stopped, but some were still approaching, holding weapons beyond nature, like humans were wont to.
It might have to fight. It wasn’t safe, but it might have to. Its lips pulled back.
»Wait!« its keeper called out, the sudden loud sound making it flinch. But it wasn’t even looking at the wolf, it was addressing the other humans.
They hesitated.
»Just let me…« It turned towards the wolf again. »Pup?«
It reached out a hand, too careful and slow to be a threat, even to the wolf’s nervous mind. And this was its keeper. The wolf raised its snout towards it. It hesitated, then touched its head, gently rubbed between its ears for a moment.
It felt good. It felt like family.
The wolf could almost forget what danger it was in, forget the blood staining its fur.
»You’re injured. Let’s get you home. Come on?« Its keeper moved away, but slow, keeping its eyes on the wolf, waiting for it to follow.
It stepped forward, not wanting to leave the protection of his shadow, to be exposed to the glaring eyes of the other humans without a shield.
But it only took a few steps before it collapsed again, its sight blurry and twisting, its legs almost numb under its body.
»Shit.«
It whined for its keeper not to abandon it, leave it to its enemies, and its keeper heard, came back.
»Are you sure about this, William?«
»Shut up.« It bent down. Caressed the wolf’s head again. »You won’t like this. Please don’t bite me.« Its voice was quiet now, even the wolf could tell.
It carefully reached out, and slipped its arms under the wolf’s body.
The wolf yipped with surprise and pain as it was lifted up, its wounds being pulled and shifted. Its jaws snapped of their own accord, but it kept them well away from its keeper, who now stood, and carried it away.
*
William considered himself to be a strong man, but the beast was huge, and even he found himself struggling to carry it.
But he couldn’t drop it. It had saved his life - probably had saved a dozen lives or more in the town. The snap had startled him, but it was nothing he hadn’t seen before from a frightened dog, and it wasn’t near as bad as what he had feared.
Alastor followed him home with a few steps’ distance, and made a ridiculously wide curve around him to open the door for him.
Which was unnecessary, it turned out. Of course - the wolf couldn’t have very well closed the door behind itself. William was glad for some to open the other doors in the house, though.
»Bedroom,« he said, and Alastor only briefly glanced at him before he led the way.
He gently put the wolf down on his bed. It whimpered, looking up at him.
»Are you - are you going to transform back?«
The wolf gave no sign of understanding, only whimpered some more in response. Maybe it couldn’t. Maybe it didn’t understand what he was saying while it was a wolf. He should have asked the pup before, but then, who could have known?
»Alright. We’ll have to get these out.« But for a long moment, he only stared at the weapons sticking out from the fur. One of the spears had already dropped out, the wound it had left behind bleeding profusely; it was wiser, then, William decided, to bandage it first.
Alastor helped him wordlessly, handing him fabric strips from as far away as possible. William didn’t call him out on it. He’d been there too recently.
The wolf twitched and whimpered when he pressed the fabric down on the bleeding wound, looking at him pleadingly.
»Shhh.« William took a moment to pet its head, again. It had worked the first time, and he didn’t know what else to do. »It’s going to be okay, pup.«
»Don’t you want to. I don’t know. At least muzzle…« Alastor didn’t finish the sentence, so William didn’t feel compelled to glare at him. Which was for the better, because he had his hands full and he needed to focus.
Once he was done with the first wound, he moved on to pull the other spear out of the wolf. It knew what he was planning to do; he could tell from the desperate whine and the way it pressed its head against the mattress in an almost human fashion.
»Okay, pup. Here we go.«
It yowled in pain, but at least the spear slipped out fairly easily. He knew the arrows would be worse.
But one step after another.
*
The wolf was panting. It was in pain, but it was safe, but there was a stranger near, but it was its keeper who was hurting and, at the same time, reassuring it. It was wholly out of its depth; it could only trust its keeper, and it knew, from where, it did not care, that it was doing the right thing, covering the wolf’s wounds.
It still hurt, though. And when the other human brought another weapon, short, but sharp, and handed it to its keeper, and its keeper approached another wound with it, it scrambled away as best as it could, pressing itself against a wall like it had done so many times now, whimpering for pity.
Its keeper hesitated, then, with a heavy sigh, set the thing aside. »Okay. Right. Let’s wait with that until dawn then, and I’ll explain it to you.«
The wolf relaxed, and its keeper reached out bare-handed once more, stroking and rubbing through its fur, its calm voice filling the wolf’s ears.
William opened the door to a not entirely surprising sight.
»The wolf is gone!« the younger miller informed him diligently, his brother and their friends behind him in the dark like a pack of eager hounds, just waiting for his reaction.
They’d come back. They had really come back and gone into the chicken coop again, to do whatever else they thought would rile him up against the wolf.
William couldn’t remember when he had last been this angry.
»Oh really?« he snarled, not even bothering to put on a mask of civility. »And how would you know? Go ahead, tell me.«
The boy swayed back lightly, as if he was only now realizing he was making a mistake; that William knew everything he had done. »Listen, William-«
»No, you listen, Flint. All of you! I have have told you once, the wolf is under my care. It is not your concern. It is not your place to hurt it further, do you understand?«
»Calm down, William, it’s a wolf. It killed your chickens!«
William only cocked his head and waited for the boy to realize what he had just said. He had told no one about the dead hens, and now he was nothing but relieved for the final confirmation that the wolf had told the truth.
»You will leave him alone. And I will talk at the town meeting about this. If you touch him again, I will accuse you of poultry theft.«
The boy’s lips were pressed into a thin line, as if this wasn’t the least he deserved. »It’s a wolf,« he repeated. »It needs to be kept in check.«
»Do you think I’m incapable to?«
»Well, you kind of sound like it!«
William snorted, pushing away the tiny spark of doubt. »Go ahead and cry to your father about it, maybe he’ll want to bring that up at the meeting. Or maybe he still has more sense than you. Get lost now, you should be in bed anyway.«
»Where’s the wolf?« the boy asked, and if there was anything that could have angered William further, this was it. As if it wasn’t blatantly clear he only wanted to know for one reason.
»It. Is. None. Of. Your. Concern.« He refrained from shouting, not to wake up the neighbours, but he took a threatening step towards the boy, who took the hint and backed up. »Leave.«
And they vanished into the night.
William carefully closed and barred the door, his mind reeling with what had just happened. Taking care of the wolf at all was confusing enough - now he was fighting members of his own community for him.
Those who would go out of their way to hurt him why he was defenseless.
Maybe it wasn’t that confusing at all.
He took a deep breath and returned to the bedroom.
When he opened the door, for a moment he thought the pup was gone, and an ice-cold spark of fear shot through him - had he been taken in after all?
Then he spotted him peeking out from under the bed, hidden and trembling, and was finally convinced he was doing the right thing.
*
Joy couldn’t stop himself. When he heard the voices at the door, he crawled under the bed, he couldn’t be reasonable when - when it had been such a strange night and now they were here and-
»Pup?«
The smith had spotted him. He’d sent them away, Joy had heard it. He still had to force himself to move out from his hiding place, even though cramping into it made his chest hurt so bad he could barely breathe. »I’m sorry,« he whispered, once he managed.
»It’s alright,« the smith said. His voice sounded odd. Almost - some kind of defeated.
But everything that had happened tonight was odd. Joy had thrown up words until all was said, unable to stop himself when, for the first time in so long, someone was listening, and the smith hadn’t stopped him either.
Now the smith sat down on the bed, looking down on Joy, who was trying to assume his previous position next to it. He didn’t know where he had found the courage to come over here when the smith had assigned him the opposite corner of the room, but now he was here, and he had been listened to and the smith had sent his tormentors away. And-
»Pup.«
- the word settled into his heart, light and soft as a down feather. It was the kindest thing he had been called in so long. A wolf was a monster, but a pup was only a pup. He held back tears once more.
»No one going to hurt you anymore, not if…« The smith didn’t end the sentence, but there was no need to. Of course Joy would be put in his place when necessary, but he was already crying with gratitude, it was more than he could ever have asked for, being a monster.
It was a long, hard winter; a winter, though, in which the wolves had never quite become desperate enough to hunt the herds or people of Lindborough - not when they knew whose home it had become.
Now the snow was finally melting under the tentative rays of the spring sun, filling the air with a scent like hope.
Even the threat of the full moon arriving tonight didn’t fill Joy with the same dread it used to. He and William were having dinner together after a long day of preparing the garden for the impending rebirth. His rib still stung a little when he exerted himself like this, but he was mostly healed, and he would be forever grateful for the smith’s attention and care that had made it so.
They didn’t talk much, but the silence was no longer filled with terror like when Joy first came here. Eventually, William got up and led the way into the bedroom.
There was a second bed now, in the corner William had first assigned Joy. Joy slipped out of his clothes and curled up in it, waiting for the inevitable pain.
William sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes averted. »You okay?«
»Yes,« Joy whispered, like he always did. »Thank you.«
He meant it. It had dawned on him, this month, he was no longer scared of the monster inside of him - was it even a monster, really? And that was solely thanks to William’s trust - a trust the wolf had never disappointed. It enjoyed the safety and companionship, the pets and belly rubs William gave it. Its fear and hunger and anger were gone, taken care of. It was an avenue Joy had never even considered possible for safety.
He had so believed he was a monster.
And yet, now he felt safe without restraints.
He was almost looking forward to his transformations. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask for the affection he craved - he could not, William was already doing so much for him; he was kind, generous, friendly even. When he was a furred beast, though, William was less shy about touching him, so he held on and cherished his monthly cuddles.
The transformation itself, when it came, hadn’t changed one bit - the tearing, jabbing, cracking pain of his whole body rearranging itself.
But it took the wolf only a few breaths’ worth of whimpers to put it behind itself when it felt its companion’s hands in its fur.
»It’s okay. There you go. All done.« The human’s voice was calm and friendly, running over it as gently as a mother’s tongue.
The wolf twisted around in its nest, curling into a more comfortable position that also allowed it to rest its snout on the human’s shoulder.
Its companion laughed quietly, its finger curling deep into the long fur of its neck, pulling gently at the skin.
There was a strange tone to its voice when it continued, »I’m glad you’re here, you know.«
The wolf, finally, could run, but it no longer wanted to.
Does Joy live the rest of his years in Willam’s village? Does he ever get seen as truly part of the village, or is he always the wolf, not entirely “one of us”?
Content: tooth-rotting saccharine fluff
Everyone doesn't warm to him, and some take a good while, but y'know, no one is loved by everyone, and he keeps the real wolves away, right?
He and William thrive on the little bit of family they give each other.
After a year or so, Joy starts seeing Eliza, first in secret, then, in a leap of faith, he proposes to her. (Everyone is definitely not pleased with this, because she's heiress to the brewery and a good catch, but of course she makes her own choices and knows how to stand her ground.)
They have at least one daughter who is as a grandchild to William. Maybe she'll learn his craft and inherit the forge one day.
