Give me some good werewolf Wilford (or Jims) please
Wilford didn’t keep track of time very well. Considering how fluently he moved through it, it wasn’t that surprising. But it occasionally got him into trouble.
He didn’t have his usual symptoms this time. A little ache-y in the bones, a little constructed in the skin but nothing obvious. Even his cravings weren’t that bad this time around. Usually he’d be drooling for something raw and only barely dead to sink his teeth - fangs? - into, at least by the time he looked any different. But this time…
He’d been working hard. He was enthusiastic about the current project, and with the Jims able to capture his magic so well on camera, they scarcely ever needed to do second takes. But Bim noticed something on the playback monitor and called cut.
It was unlike Bim to take any sort of directing roll so Wilford got in a bit of a huff, but the Jims cut anyway.
“Trimmer? What on earth - we were doing fine!”
“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but I NEED to get you into hair and makeup. You look… just terrible. When was the last time you shaved?”
Wilford was dumbfounded. His appearance hadn’t changed without him willing it to do so with his powers for almost a century, why…?
He’d already summoned a mirror for himself by the time Bim had one to hand him, and his blood ran cold at his reflection. He was NOT about to be exposed, not when they were in the middle of filming, for goodness sake.
Continiue reading on Archive Of Our Own!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works