Thread by @BlGHANK

Hank, a werewolf who goes to seek out Connor, a lonely witch, in hopes that he can help lift the curse. Connor actually ends up helping him learn to control his beast form better instead, and all the while Hank lives with him and keeps him company.

*whispering* and eventually..... they hold hands.... and kiss..... 😲

CW for suicide ment //

Okay like. Hank feeling like he's an irredeemable monster and was on the verge of ending it all because he felt like he'd be doing the world a favor, but he heard people in town whispering rumors of an evil witch with amazing alchemy abilities.

And basically Hank's thinking like... Maybe there's a potion out there that could make this all go away? So he packs all his shit and heads out into the woods with Sumo. He has no real sense of direction but something strange and mystical in the air seems to guide him.

A few hours into their trek and Hank can sense danger. These woods are left alone for good reason, and that becomes apparent when he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

He hears the beat of large wings just as Sumo begins to growl.

CW for gory stuff //

Hank knows what's coming, and attempts to shift to give himself an edge. He's only partially torn through his clothes when the sharp talons of a fearsome predator pierce his flesh. He struggles, but the beast's claws seem to only sink deeper.

Black dots spot his vision, and he falls to the ground. Honestly, it wasn't a terrible way to go out. He exhales calmly as his vision fades.

--

He awakens with a pounding headache and the scent of clove incense in the air.

He quickly finds that he's tucked into a comfortable queen sized bed. The room is warm and bright, decorated with various knickknacks and paintings. He glances at the door just as a beautiful young man enters, dressed in dark velvet robes, with potions tied around his waist.

He quirks an eyebrow. "You're awake." He walks around to the side of the bed Hank lays, kneeling so they're eye level. "How are you feeling?"

Hank squints. "Who are you?" He rasps, briefly taken aback by the roughness of his voice. "Where am I?"

The man smiles lightly and moves to sit on the foot of the bed. "You can call me Connor, and this is my home. I found you and your dog being attacked by a gryphon just a short walk from here. Territorial bastards." He sighs. "Luckily I was able to send her off."

Hank attempts to sit up, but grimaces at the bloom of white hot pain in his chest. Connor is immediately at his side, gently forcing him back down to the bed.

"Don't be so hasty. You're supernatural, not immortal." He winks.

Hank grumbles and allows himself to relax.

"Fine, whatever. Is my dog okay at least?"

Connor nods. "His wounds weren't as serious as yours, so it was nothing a few potions couldn't fix."

Hank's jaw drops. "Wait... Are you the witch, then?"

Connor stiffens, staring down at his hands. "Many refer to me as such, yes."

Hank sighs in relief. "Oh thank God, I was looking for you."

He shifts nervously, looking back up at Hank. "Really? What for?"

"I was hoping you could help me. Name's Hank, and I'm... Well." He clears his throat. "I'm sure you can tell."

"A lycanthrope? Yes, indeed. Your kind's blood runs much thicker than a human's. It's a bit of a bitch to get out of robes." He smirks.

Hank scoffs. "Right, sorry about that. Anyway, you're like this amazing alchemist, yeah? You think you got some kind of like..."

"I don't know, a cure? Something to make me like, human again?"

Connor frowns. "Hmm. There are methods, but I would need to do some research." He cocks his head. "Is there a reason why?"

Hank snorts. "Is there a reason why I'd want to be like this? Come on, now."

Connor's face drops. "I don't know... I mean, the miraculous healing abilities are certainly good for any warrior. If you were a mortal, you certainly would've died from that attack."

"Heh, sure thing. It's not worth it though." Hank stares off to the side.

"I'm a monster, Connor. I've hurt people, and will continue to do it so long as the beast is in me. I hate it, I just-" He cuts himself off with a sigh. He blinks tightly to push the tears down. "Can you help me or not?"

Connor looks genuinely devastated by his words. "Hank, I haven't known you for very long but I can't help but feel that isn't true."

Hank opens his mouth to respond, but is stopped by a finger pressing against his lips.

"But," Connor stares at him intently.

"I will try my best to help you. I'll just need some time. You need a day or two to rest anyway." He reaches down and unties a potion with a deep, scarlet liquid in the bottle. He uncorks it and hands it over to Hank. "Drink this. It'll be a tad bitter, but it'll help you sleep."

Hank takes it and gives it a sniff, cringing at the scent. Connor simply nods as a means of encouragement.

He sighs and shoots the entire thing in one go, sputtering at the awful taste coating his mouth. Connor seems satisfied enough though, as he rises from the bed and-

heads towards the door. He turns just as he's about to leave.

"Your wounds will do the most healing while you rest. If you need anything, don't hesitate to shout."

"Wait, uh-" Hank calls out. Connor looks at him inquisitively.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

"For... Well, saving our lives. You're really going above and beyond here, and I um, appreciate it." He stammers.

Connor smiles briefly before his face falls back to an unreadable expression. He looks as if he wants to respond, but opts to leave and close the door behind him.

Hank feels exhaustion creep over him, and it doesn’t take long for him to succumb to sleep.

When he awakens again, the sun is just over the horizon, bathing the room in a pink hue. This time when he sits up, the pain in his chest is nothing more than a dull throb.

Guess the villagers were right about those alchemy skills, because Hank hadn’t felt this well rested in at least two decades.

As he kicks the covers off, he realizes to his horror that he’s entirely naked. He blushes at the thought of Connor seeing... Everything.

All the faded scars decorating his back and chest, from battles long past. He tries not to dwell on his embarrassment as he slowly stands up from the bed.

Luckily Connor had the foresight to leave some navy blue robes and folded neatly at the end of the bed,

with a velvety sheen similar to his own.

Hank wastes no time stepping into them, securing the straps at the chest to make himself more decent. They’re surprisingly comfortable, despite the way they hug to his curves.

He takes a moment to smooth out the fabric, taking one last glance at the bedroom before opening the door. He’s immediately greeted with the sight of Sumo snoring in the middle of a quaint living room, small patches of fur missing around his shoulders.

As for the room itself, it becomes apparent that Connor lives alone. The majority of the space is occupied by large bookshelves, filled to the brim with dusty tomes, various animal skulls, and crystals. There seems to be a plant occupying every corner and surface,

and the only sign that this isnt just a nicely decorated library is the chair next to the fireplace,and a small kitchen located at the other end of the room

And that’s where Connor stands, hunched over a cauldron over half his height, stirring with what seems to be a giant stick

Any doubts Hank would have about him being the real deal would’ve been wiped away by the book levitating in front of Connor’s face, turning its pages seemingly on its own volition.

“Good morning, Hank.” Connor calls out, focus still entirely aimed at his task.

Hank bends down to give Sumo a few quick head pats before heading over to the kitchen. “Mornin’.” He leans over to get a look at bubbling contents of the cauldron. The sickly green color might make one think it’s some sort of poison, but the sweet of honey tells a different story

“So uh...” Hank starts, enthralled by the way the color shifts to a turquoise as Connor pours in a mysterious liquid. “What are you up to?”

Connor chuckles. “Just restocking my mana potions. I used just about my entire store trying to bring you two back from death’s door.”

“Ah shit, I’m sorry about that. Known ya a day and I’ve already caused so much trouble.” He mumbles.

Connor shakes his head. “Nonsense, I enjoy helping people. And technically I’ve known you for three days.” He looks up and smirks. “You’re quite the heavy sleeper.”

Hank snorts. “So I’ve been told. But really, I feel bad. I originally came here to ask for help and now you’re doing...” Hank gestures vaguely. “All this.”

The book floats down to rest on the counter as Connor removes the stirring stick from the pot, setting it aside.

With a snap of his fingers, the fire warming the cauldron fizzles out.

“I have to let this cool. In the meantime, I think we need to talk.” He nods towards the door behind him.

Hank nods. “Lead the way.”

The pair head through the door into a downright mystical garden.

There’s an entire rainbow of various fruits and vegetables, all bolstering in both color and size; Many is which Hank can’t even recognize. It seems straight out of a fairytale.

“Sit.” Connor points to a rickety chair, wood stained and warped from age.

He takes a seat, and Connor does the same. All that stands between them is a small sidetable with nothing but an elk statuette sitting in its center.

“Christ, it’s beautiful here.” Hank murmurs.

Connor’s entire body seems to light up.

“It is, isn’t it?” He sighs dreamily. “The upkeep is a big time commitment, but it’s worth it.”

Hank nods. “This whole place is just... Bright. Welcoming. Not what I would’ve expected, I suppose.”

Connor grunts. “You were expecting gothic architecture, bats, maybe-

even reanimated skeletons stumbling around?”

Hank snorts. “Yeah. Guess I’m stereotyping a bit.”

An amused smile plays on his lips. “Maybe a little. But to be fair that’s my brother’s gimmick.”

Hank raises an eyebrow. “You come from a family of witches?”

Connor shrugs. “Something like that. But enough about me, I’ve been doing some research while you’ve been out.”

Hank scoots to the edge of his seat, eyes trained on Connor. “And?”

“I believe I may be able to help you.”

“Shit, you already found something?”

Connor nods. “A few things, actually. Although I can’t even verify if they’d actually work, it’s all simply theory.”

Hank scoffs. “I’ll do whatever it takes, no matter the risks. If there’s even the slightest chance they’ll work-“

“Hank,” Connor cuts him off with a stern tone. “I need you to listen carefully. You need to fully understand how grave these consequences could be.”

Hank snaps his mouth shut and nods. Now wasn’t the time for snark.

Connor’s smile returns in full force. “Thank you.”

“So, in my entire library I only have 3 books with any information on lycanthropy, and like I said, it’s all theory. I found two potential methods but they would almost certainly result in your death.”

Hank frowns. “Okay but-“

He’s promptly stopped by a slim finger pressing against his lips.

“Shh, just listen.” Connor pulls back and rests his hands on his lap. “The one with the strongest evidence would involve piercing your heart with something silver, but even the author admits that-

nobody can tell if the werewolf reverted back to its human form because of the silver, or simply because it died on the process.” Connor sighs. “The second is essentially a potion, but all the ingredients are highly toxic. There’s no documented survivors.”

Hank scratches his beard. “So am I just fucked then?”

Connor gnaws at his bottom lip. “Not exactly. I have a third method but... It’s a lot of work. We’d be testing a theory of mine, essentially.”

Hank quirks an eyebrow. “Well shit, lay it on me then.”

Connor grunts affirmatively. “When I found you... You were attempting to shift, correct?”

“Uh, yeah. How could you tell?”

“After I sent the gryphon off, I went over to assess your wounds. I saw a bunch of strange hairs along your back. At first I just thought-

you had crazy back hair, but they slowly started to disappear. It was really quite fascinating.”

Hank pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why is this relevant?”

“We’ll get to that. But these voluntary shifts... Do you feel in control?”

Hank looks up to see Connor leaning against the table, chin in his hands and starry eyed.

“I... Yeah. It’s hard to explain but I at least know what I’m doing. I don’t like to uh, turn very often though.”

Connor beams. “Just as I thought.” He whispers.

“The biggest similarity between all these books I’ve read is that not one actually spoke to a werewolf. There were rumors of some being able to take control of their wolf forms with years of experience, but now I know those are true.”

Hank narrows his eyes.

“Okay... Where are you going with this?”

Connor sits back up. “My theory... Is that with enough training and nurturing, one could find a way to control the savage impulses they experience during a full moon. To work *with* the beast instead of fighting it.”

Hank has to fight back a laugh. “Not that I doubt your abilities but... Have you even seen a werewolf during the full moon before? I’m not sure it’s possible to tame.”

“Well, no. But I’ve always had a way with animals. I don’t see how it’d be any different.”

Hank chuckles. “I’m sorry Connor, but I’m not just a big dog or something. Like I said, I’m a monster.”

Connor smirks. “I suppose I’ll just have to show you, then.” He then sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles.

Hank’s blood runs cold when he hears familiar wingbeats.

Connor stands from his chair and walks over to the garden gate. Hank scrambles from his seat and snatches Connor’s hand just as he’s about to unlatch it.

“Are you insane?” Hank whispers. “I don’t know what’s going on here but if that’s the s-“

“Hank, just trust me.”

Connor replies coolly.

Despite his racing heart Hank sighs and lets go of his hand. He didn’t have much of a reason not to trust him after he’d worked so hard to save his life.

Connor smiles and proceeds with opening the gate, walking a few feet away from the garden before

stopping and looking up at the sky. Hank cautiously steps out from the garden, keeping his eyes trained on the sky as a figure draws closer and closer.

Even though he didn’t see her during the attack, he can tell this was the very same gryphon from before.

His chest conflicts as she lands gracefully next to Connor, tawny wings folding to her side. To his terror Connor approaches her, scratching her just beneath her beak.

He turns back towards Hank. “Hank, this is Abril.”

Hank breaks down laughing.

“You know, it’s funny. When you told me I was attacked by a gryphon, you failed to mention it was YOUR PET.”

Connor frowns. “She’s not my pet. She’s my friend.”

Hank snorts. “Really? Then why did you name her?”

“I didn’t name her, she’s the one that told me her name.”

Hank rubs his temples. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You can just... Talk to animals?”

Connor shrugs. “In a way. It’s a little more complex than that but essentially, yes. She asked that I call her here when you awoke so she could apologize. Seemed like the right time.”

Hank makes a face and chances a few steps closer. “Excuse me?”

“She feels awful for hurting you and your dog.” He says, sorrow tinging his tone, running his fingers through her feathers tenderly. “You see, every visitor I’ve had... Well, ever, came with the intent to kill me.”

Hank steps forward, now standing directly in front of Abril. “So she was just trying to protect you, huh?”

Connor smiles sadly. “Yes. She has a nest in the mountains nearby, so we mutually watch over each other. I send off other gryphons encroaching on her hunting grounds,

and she helps act as a sentry for me. She really didn’t mean any harm.”

Abril nods and lays the front of her body to the ground, as if she were bowing, letting out soft, apologetic chirps.

Hank sighs. “Well uh, apology accepted I guess.”

Abril shoots up from her bowing position and knocks her head against Hank’s chest, purring happily. Hank chuckles and rubs just behind her ears. “You’re an affectionate murder machine, eh?”

Connor laughs. “Surely you must believe now?”

Abril steps back and cocks her head expectantly.

“Jesus Christ, yeah, I guess I do. I’m not sure how your skills will translate working with a bloodthirsty monster, but if anyone has a chance it’s you.”

Connor grins from ear to ear. “So you’re definitely on board then?”

Hank shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t really have anything to lose. It’s worth a shot, at least.”

He nearly trips from the force of Connor suddenly pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you for giving me the chance. We’re going to do amazing work together.”

Hank slowly wraps his arms around Connor, squeezing back. He blushes at his pleasant scent; clove and rosemary. He’s not sure he wants to let go.

“No problem.” He chokes out.

Connor eventually steps back. “Let’s head inside, we can go over some of the plans I’ve drawn up.”

“Shit, you were busy while I was asleep. But what about...” He nods over at Abril, who’s now rolling around in the grass.

“She comes and goes as she pleases. She’ll let me know if she needs something. For now, we have much to discuss.” He links their arms together and

starts to lead them back towards the cottage. Connor was awfully affectionate, but Hank couldn’t find it in himself to have a problem with that.

“Oh wait, can I ask ya something before we get into all this?”

Connor nods. “Of course.”

“What you said back there, about all these people trying to kill you.”

Connor tenses at those words, but gives no indication he wants Hank to stop.

“How did you know I wasn’t one of those? Why did you help me?” Hank murmurs.

Connor abruptly stops walking,

causing Hank to stumble. He turns to lock eyes with him.

“I didn’t know. I felt a bit safer helping you since you came unarmed but... Even then I was scared. But I just had a hunch. Call it a witch’s intuition.” He bites his lip. “When you said you came looking for me,

I thought for sure I’d been wrong, but I’m glad that wasn’t the case. I’m happy you came, even if it wasn’t under the best circumstances.”

Hank wants to ask why people wanted someone so generous, so incredibly kind and selfless dead. But like himself, he feels that

Connor has his own secrets, and it wasn’t his place to ask right now.

Hank smiles lightly. “I’m glad I came too.” And he means it, with every fiber of his being.

Connor grins in return and resumes leading them both back to the cottage.

Sumo comes bounding up to them as soon as they enter the house, the strength of his wagging tail practically bruising Hank’s thigh. He merely chuckles and gives him a few hearty ear scritches.

“He fixed you up good, eh boy?” Hank murmurs affectionately.

“He was a wonderful patient.” Connor comments fondly before gesturing for Hank to follow him over to the fireplace. He pauses for a moment to grab what seems to be a large notebook from the bookshelf before sitting just in front of the fire, legs crossed.

Hank follows suit, sitting just in front of Connor. Sumo plops down next to them, resting his head on his paws.

“I do apologize for the lack of proper seating, it’s not something I had to think about until now.” He smiles lightly as he opens the book to its first page,

completely covered in messy writing and sketches. “I don’t quite know to approach the more, erm, delicate matters of this experiment yet. But...” He turns the book and places it in Hank’s lap. He’s surprised to find that the writing is perfectly legible despite its chaotic format

“I figured that, if you’re on board, we could finally write a helpful book on lycanthropy. Together.”

Hank frowns momentarily before actually reading the text. The page was comprised of detailed notes of Connor’s initial encounter with him, complete with a crude-

sketch of his back mid-shift. Reading on, he wrote about his sleeping habits, and even copied down their first conversation word for word.

“Uhh, what kind of book were you thinking?” When he looks back up, Connor is staring at him owlishly.

He blinks twice and adjusts his posture with a familiar nervous stiffness, much like when they first spoke.

“Basically, *The Book*. The first someone would pick up if they wanted to learn more on the subject. Like I said, most of the information we have now is speculation,”

“So I thought I could take notes on how your everyday biology and behavior differs. Conduct interviews about your experiences. Get cold, hard facts straight from the source. Whether or not we do end up succeeding with ‘taming’ you, we could still do a lot of good for the world.”

Hank nods. “So like a field guide or something?”

“You could call it that. Just good, baseline information the layman could understand. And if we do succeed in our little experiment, then it could have the potential to save many lives; Human and werewolf alike.”

Hank grunts affirmatively, gnawing at his bottom lip. The thought of anyone taking notes on every little thing he does is admittedly a little uncomfortable.

“I know this is a lot to ask.” Connor says coolly, although the desperation in his eyes betray his tone.

“I know you’re already taking a gamble on my crazy ideas here but... I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to write a book, and I feel like there’s amazing potential here.” He looks as if he wants to say more, but opts to fall silent.

Hank shuts the book and hands it back to Connor.

“You’re already doing so much for me, and haven’t once asked for anything in return. I think this is the least I can do. Not like I’m doing the bulk of the work anyway.”

Connor exhales, his body gradually relaxing. “Thank you.” He says earnestly.

“I still need to brainstorm on how exactly we should begin working on the main issue at hand, but I promise that will remain my top priority.”

Hank smiles softly. “I know, I can tell you’ve been working your ass off while I’ve been snoozing my life away.”

Connor chuckles. “You needed the rest. In fact, you should probably go back to bed soon. It’s best not to risk straining yourself.” He rises from the floor, brushing stray dust off his robes with his spare hand.

Hank scoffs, following Connor’s lead.

“I’m not even tired.”

“Doctor’s orders.” Connor teases. “I need to make us something to eat anyway. I’ll wake you up when it’s done.”

Hank nods, but before heading to the bedroom, he’s hit with a realization.

“Wait, how long is this whole research thing gonna take?”

“I live a few hours out on foot. Might not be able to make that commute every day.”

Connor blushes and stares at his feet. “Oh, I actually assumed you’d stay here. I should’ve asked first, I apologize.”

Hank swears his heart skips a beat.

That was far from the first thing he’d expect as a response.

“Oh uh. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Connor’s head snaps back up to look at him. “You wouldn’t be!” He pauses and takes a deep breath, speaking much calmer. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all, I promise.”

Hank feels the corner of his lip quirk in response to Connor’s awkwardness. It’s just another endearing quality of him that he’s quickly begun to appreciate.

“Well, it’d certainly be more convenient. I’ll have to go back to pick some of my shit up at some point,”

“but I doubt I’ll be missed around those parts. Always just kept to myself.”

Connor beams. “Oh, wonderful! I’ll finally have a reason to get a proper dining table! And maybe another chair for the living room! This is going to be so much fun!”

Hank smirks teasingly. “You remember why I’m here?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Yes, it’s a serious matter. That doesn’t mean there won’t be enjoyable parts of the process, though.” He narrows his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you to go to bed?”

Hank throws his hands up.

“Alright, I’m going.” He whistles for Sumo to join him, who trots behind him. He thinks he hears Connor mutter a sarcastic “thank you” just as he shuts the door. Kid really had an attitude when he wanted to.

Sumo hops up on the bed and looks up at Hank expectantly.

He makes quick work of his robes; He’s never been huge on sleeping naked, especially whilst being a guest in someone else’s house, but he couldn’t see himself comfortably sleeping in them. He’d make sure pick up his nice nightgowns from his house.

As soon as his head hits the pillow he feels exhaustion settle deep in his bones. With all the distractions, he couldn’t tell just how much he needed the rest. He’d never tell Connor that though. He seems like the type of person that loves to be right; And unfortunately, often is

Hank is roused by the featherlight press of fingers against his bare shoulder and Connor’s gentle voice in his ear. It’s soothing enough to nearly drag him back to sleep-

“I swear to god if you don’t wake up I’ll set that hairy ass of yours aflame.” Connor murmurs.

If he’d been any more sleepy, Hank wouldn’t have even picked up on the meaning of the words past his calm tone.

He sits up with a start, only to see Connor kneeling next to the bed, elbows on the mattress and cheek resting in hand. He stares at him with a mischievous grin.

“Jesus, I thought you said I needed the rest?” Hank grumbles.

“Yes, but it’s just as imperative that you eat as well. You’ve been living almost exclusively on vitality potions at this point.” He stands up and outstretches a hand. “How do you feel about porridge?”

Hank squints and pulls the blanket up to cover his naked chest more effectively. “You gonna let me get dressed first?”

Connor appears chagrined as he withdraws his hand. “Oh, right. I apologize, I’ve been quite scatterbrained since you arrived.” He clears his throat.

“I’ll be uh” He gestures towards the door. “Just come out when you’re ready.” He mutters before striding out of the room.

Hank would laugh if he didn’t feel for the kid so hard. He was good at putting on a confident front, but those years of isolation always seemed to show.

But again, it was charming. Cute, even.

He tosses his robes back on, taking note of the sweet, rosey scent coming off of them. Seems like Connor had washed them while he slept. He notices the sun is now high in the sky, likely just past noon. Damn kid was a quick worker, then.

When Hank walks out of the bedroom, he notices Connor moved the table and chairs from his garden inside, serving as a modest dining area. Sumo is chowing down on what smells like venison at Connor’s feet. Hank’s mouth waters at the thought; It feels like it’s been weeks

since he had a proper meal. He takes his seat across from Connor, who smiles at him awkwardly.

“I’m hoping to secure a proper dining table soon, but I felt this would do for now.” He’s noticeably nervous in the way he speaks.

Hank nods. “Is my ass really that hairy?”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Pardon?”

“You said that when you were trying to wake me up.” He smirks. “Lighten up a bit.”

He sees the moment things click in Connor’s mind, who proceeds to chuckle lightly. “Even with just a little spark, it’d be like burning down an entire forest.”

Hank snorts. “Ouch.”

Connor grins and starts to dig into his porridge, taking small, conservative bites. Hank watches him for a few moments. Perhaps years of his own loneliness had made him soft, but he can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at just how anxious Connor is about

speaking. He gets small glimpses of his eccentric personality, but he seems to suppress much of it when he can. Still waters run deep and all that.

But maybe it’s just because he reminds him of himself. They just seem to have slightly different coping mechanisms at play.