Another Werewolf AU
anonymous
October 17 2010, 15:57:00 UTC
Well - I've seen a lot of Were!John prompts - and a few were!Sherlock prompts - I remember one were!Lestrade prompt and - though it might be my imagination - a Were!Mycroft prompt. Imagination or not - I loved all of them
Do you guys see where I'm going with this.
Wolf pack fic. They're ALL werewolves. I just want them to be a pack. I want to see pack dynamics - who's alpha male? I want to see that loyalty amongst them - say one of them's in trouble - they all come running.
Any kind of werewolves fine - whether it be the traditional, only changes on the full moon lot - or the more shape-shifter kind
Any fill is SO FREAKING WELCOME - Art, fic, vid - whatever. I just really want to see this done.
If you could fit some H/C in to (cos I'm a H/C whore) I will forever be your slave :D
John Watson was a beta. He understood command, he could follow or bark out orders as it was needed. He had felt at home at the military, caring for his fellow wolves and soldiers. (His team was his pack; but the land mine and armour piercing bullets left only destruction and a lone wolf behind.) He came back to London and snarled at his shrink who didn't smell of gunpowder, desert or pack; and was going slowly mad in his sterile, lonely room.
Mike, who was familiar with his problem, smirked when he introduced him to another Were. John considered biting him for a few moments before Sherlock took a deep breathe and decided they would live together. 221B Baker Street, Sherlock said, and John could barely resist the pull.
He was wired to follow, to protect, to make sure the pack was alright. Following Sherlock was almost natural. So, he went to the flat, tilting his head back to show his throat for Sherlock.
Lestrade was bitten some years ago. The moon was full and he headed home after a long day at the Met when he was attacked. Later, when he had the wolf’s howling in his mind and the instincts to hunt he understood why: there were very few wolves in London and barely more in England. There was something in the smell of those who could be converted without difficulties, something sweet and sharp. (The people who couldn’t survive the bite smelt odd, like Anderson, and Lestrade felt a sharp relief as he figured out the enmity between Anderson and Sherlock.) Of course, the majority of people had even chances of turning or dying
( ... )
Lestrade stopped at the top of the stairs and frowned. A growl wanted to escape his throat as the smell of (an intruder) another werewolf hit his nose.
Sherlock Holmes' flatmate met his eyes for a hellishly long moment before blinking and somewhat shrinking back to himself. What made the encounter uncomfortable wasn't the barely avoided fight but the way it was averted. Not because Lestrade was stronger or older (both true) or because the pack dynamics (they didn't belong to the same pack, and Lestrade clearly intruded on Sherlock's territory when he entered), but because Watson chose to not fight
( ... )
Imagination or not - I loved all of them
Do you guys see where I'm going with this.
Wolf pack fic. They're ALL werewolves. I just want them to be a pack. I want to see pack dynamics - who's alpha male? I want to see that loyalty amongst them - say one of them's in trouble - they all come running.
Any kind of werewolves fine - whether it be the traditional, only changes on the full moon lot - or the more shape-shifter kind
Any fill is SO FREAKING WELCOME - Art, fic, vid - whatever. I just really want to see this done.
If you could fit some H/C in to (cos I'm a H/C whore) I will forever be your slave :D
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John Watson was a beta. He understood command, he could follow or bark out orders as it was needed. He had felt at home at the military, caring for his fellow wolves and soldiers. (His team was his pack; but the land mine and armour piercing bullets left only destruction and a lone wolf behind.) He came back to London and snarled at his shrink who didn't smell of gunpowder, desert or pack; and was going slowly mad in his sterile, lonely room.
Mike, who was familiar with his problem, smirked when he introduced him to another Were. John considered biting him for a few moments before Sherlock took a deep breathe and decided they would live together. 221B Baker Street, Sherlock said, and John could barely resist the pull.
He was wired to follow, to protect, to make sure the pack was alright. Following Sherlock was almost natural. So, he went to the flat, tilting his head back to show his throat for Sherlock.
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Sherlock Holmes' flatmate met his eyes for a hellishly long moment before blinking and somewhat shrinking back to himself. What made the encounter uncomfortable wasn't the barely avoided fight but the way it was averted. Not because Lestrade was stronger or older (both true) or because the pack dynamics (they didn't belong to the same pack, and Lestrade clearly intruded on Sherlock's territory when he entered), but because Watson chose to not fight ( ... )
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