Story: A Life in the Woods

This 376 word fic was created as a gift for cornerofmadness on fandomtrees and fills a square for my January Public Domain Day Bingo Card.

A Life in the Woods

A curse ran in their blood, but overall, it could’ve been worse. They could have turned full wolfman every full moon or been driven to depraved acts due to bloodlust. Instead, Axel counted himself lucky that he became the Dogman for just for a week each month during years that ended on a 7. The hardest part in Axel’s opinion was the need to prowl the Manistee River during his turn. He had cousins further downstate living in Allegan, Michigan who were tied to the Kalamazoo River the same way his parents and siblings and he were tied to their river, except downstate the job prospects were better.
 

Axel had to admit, the advent of remote work post-Covid had really made it easier to bear the Dogman curse. His sister Astrid now did all her work as a medical transcriptionist remotely, and so her “puppy nights” out on the banks of the Manistee weren’t hard on the pocketbook like they used to be in his dad and grandmother’s time. He himself had recently gained employment as a remote call center worker, and it too suited the special needs of his affliction.
 

The worst part of the whole situation was getting spotted. While most of the Manistee ran through remote areas of Northwestern Michigan, there were always campers, hunters, nature lovers, and those wandering lost that you could bump into unexpectedly while shifted. Axel dreaded being seen and possibly filmed. Cell phones were the bane of his existence, everyone with the power of “proof” in their pockets. No one needed to see him, sniffling along the banks of the river with the head of a dog, but his normal scrawny human body, only 6’2” tall (really very short for Dogpeople!) and his hazel human eyes. Or worse! What if they caught him relieving himself, leg cocked, against a tree! It was instinct, nothing he could do about it, but he’d had a recurring nightmare that that was the moment someone would spot him since he was thirteen years old.
 

Overall, there were cryptids who had it worse. No one seriously believed in the Michigan Dogman, and really, Bigfoot could keep all the bumper stickers and bigfoot hunters, because Dogpeople preferred their little family packs and privacy anyway. 

 

Story: Morning Interruptus

This 278 word fic was created as a gift for Kalika_999 on fandomtrees   

 

Morning Interruptus

 

Monroe was a cozy kind of guy. He liked warm comfy sweaters, relaxed fit corduroys, and sleeping in on Sunday morning. He figured it was the Blutbad nature in him, wanting to be warm and safe in its den. Which made this Sunday morning even more vexing, as he’d been awoken in the middle of the night to care for his best friend (secret crush whispered his subconscious) who’d pounded on his door flat-out drunk, and now he was up again at 8:00 a.m. helping said friend swallow some ibuprofen and down a glass of water.

 

“Merph, go ‘way,” groaned a rumpled Nick from the couch.

 

“No. Sit up, c’mon.”

 

“Why’re you here?” mumbled Nick.

 

“Me? Why are you here? You’re at my house, not yours. I’m supposed to be here, sleeping in, waking up at whatever time I like to make myself muffins or bagels, not trying to help you out after a bender. Sit. Up.” Monroe says the last two words in a growly tone that would take no argument.

 

As Nick struggled upright on the couch and snatched the pills and water he said, “What the hell happened?”

“

You got drunk, knocked on my door at 4:00 a.m., obnoxiously flirted with me and then vomited all over my feet. Now it’s the next day, you’re hungover and you apparently have no idea why I keep glaring at you,” Monroe summarized.

 

“Oh shit. Juliette broke up with me,” Nick whispered.

 

“Man…” Monroe trailed off as his heart gave one huge thump in panic, he swallowed thickly, and that secret little longing grew three sizes in an instant. “That’s, I’m so sorry Nick. Why’d she do that?”