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Full Moon over Danville	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +M through R > Phineas and Ferb Views: 11307 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb or its characters, and I made no money by writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Full Moon over Danville
- 1
Full Moon over Danville
by George Glass

Summary: On the night before Halloween, Isabella undergoes a dramatic change. And it’s got nothing to do with costumes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb or its characters, and I made no money by writing this story.

***

Phineas walked quickly across the street. Normally, he would have taken the time to admire his neighbors’ decorations on this pre-Halloween night, but right now he was in a hurry.

He strode up to the front door of the Garcia-Shapiro house and rang the bell. Almost instantly, he heard a voice calling from the other side of the door.

“Phineas? Is that you?”

In the familiar high-pitched voice, Phineas could hear distress—and something else he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Isabella? You said you needed help. What’s going on?”

“I...I can't explain it.”

“Then how can I help you?”

“It’s...I...I'm just gonna have to show you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Slowly, the door swung open. There were no lights on inside the house, so it took a few moments for Phineas’ eyes to adjust as he looked at the dark figure standing a few feet inside the door.

“Whoa…”

It was definitely Isabella he was looking at; even if she weren’t wearing her signature pink dress, he'd know that wineglass-shaped head, that long black hair, and those blue eyes anywhere. But her face and body were covered in dark-brown fur, and her normally short, neatly trimmed fingernails had been replaced by claws.

“Wow, Isabella!” Phineas exclaimed. “This is your best Halloween costume ever! Man, I can't wait for the other guys to see it tomorrow night.”

“It's not a costume!” Isabella cried.

“W- What? Really?” he said, coming inside and closing the door behind him. “How did this happen? Wait, is Baljeet’s friend Mishti in town? Because I always kinda wondered-”

“No, it wasn't Mishti, it was my mom!”

“Your mom? How? And where is she now?”

“She locked herself in the basement...after she bit me. Please, Phineas, I need you to find us a cure!”

Phineas felt a pang in his chest at seeing Isabella so scared.

“Don't worry, Isabella,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You and your mom will be back to normal in no time.”

She put her own hand over his, and for a moment he saw a strange, yellowish glint in her eye. Then it faded, leaving only Isabella’s worry...and gratitude.

“Thank you, Phineas.”

“Of course. I'll just go get Ferb and-”

“No!” Isabella cried. Then, seeming to get ahold of herself, she said, “I mean, you should lock me up first. I...I’m starting to...have trouble...controlling myself.”

From the kitchen, where the basement stairs were, Phineas could hear growling, then the sounds of something clawing at a wooden door.

“I guess you’re right,” Phineas said.

He looked around. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were open to the rest of the house; there would be no locking her in there.

“My bedroom,” Isabella said. “You can lock me in there.”

They went to the back of the house, where Isabella's room was. Entering ahead of her, Phineas saw that her room was fairly spacious and had its own bathroom, which would be good if curing her took longer than expected.

“Yeah, this'll work,” Phineas said. Then, turning back toward Isabella, he asked, “Now, is there some way to lock it from the outsi-”

The door slammed shut, and it took Phineas a moment to realize that Isabella had done it.

“I'm sorry, Phineas,” she said.

“S- Sorry for what?”

“These...urges…,” she said, her voice lower and raspier now. “They're too strong...”

Moving closer to him, she said, almost growling, “I have to…”

Suddenly, her clawed hands seized the collar of Phineas’ striped shirt and, in one rapid movement tore it from his body.

“Wow,” Phineas said nervously as he slowly backed away. “Super strength...that's, that's cool...a- and it's totally no problem about the shirt…I've got, like, a dozen more…”

His way to the door blocked, Phineas bolted for the window, but Isabella seized him by the upper arms and shoved him up against the wall.

“Isabella,” Phineas said, trying to keep from panicking, “whatever you're thinking about doing, just- AAAAAAGH!”

Isabella’s new fangs bit into his shoulder, just at the base of his neck, and the sensation was like being stabbed with a fistful of knitting needles. The agony and the flood of adrenaline in his system made him push the girl away, hard, and she staggered back a few steps.

“Oh, no,” she said, her eyes wide.

“Please,” Phineas gasped, putting a hand over his wound. “Isabella...please don’t eat me…”

Isabella’s hands flew to her mouth.

“No! Phineas,” she cried, her distinctive tone still audible through the changes that her lycanthropy had wrought in her voice. “I- I’m not- I just- I-”

That yellowish glint came back into her eyes, and she closed the distance between them with a few quick strides. Then, with the same ferocious ease with which she had ripped Phineas’ shirt off, she tore her pink dress in half down the front and hurled it away. Now clad only in her pink panties, she spoke again, her voice a growl.

“I’m in heat.”

Phineas’ brain was scrambling to remember what that meant when the boy noticed a deep itching sensation in his shoulder. He took his hand off the wound and saw that, miraculously, it was healing before his eyes.

“Isabella, how-?” he began, but he was silenced when the girl pressed him against the wall with her body and forced her lips against his.

He struggled reflexively for a moment; then his body stilled as he became lost in a world of unfamiliar sensations—Isabella’s soft fur against his bare chest, the warmth of her body, the taste of her, and even the taste of his own blood in her mouth, which somehow didn’t bother him. In fact, it made his skin tingle all over. Tingle, and then...burn.

Shouting, “What the-?” he broke off the kiss and looked down at his body. Hair—or fur—was sprouting from every square inch of his skin; his nails were lengthening into claws; and he could feel his conical nose, mouth, and chin narrowing into a snout as his canine teeth grew into fangs.

But greater than these external changes were those taking place within him. His entire sensorium was expanding: His eyes saw through the darkness outside the windows as clearly as if it were daylight; his ears caught every sound, from nearby crickets to distant freeway noise to a receding buzzing noise high in the air that might have been a toy drone or a platypus-size aircraft, if there were such a thing.

Most powerful of all were the new smells. His lupine nose could detect the scent of wood shavings in Isabella's pencil sharpener, the odor of chihuahua hair on the bedspread, and most of all, the smell of Isabella herself—the familiar sweetness she always had, mingled with an unmistakably animal smell, and...something else. A scent that Phineas’ olfactory receptors locked onto, to the exclusion of everything else.

Isabella had backed away and was watching Phineas’ transformation with ferocious anticipation. Then, lifting her head as though she were looking at something far beyond the ceiling of her room, she howled.

“AAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOO…”

A sudden, powerful urge came over Phineas, and the next thing he knew, he was lifting his head to the sky and howling right along with Isabella.

When they finished, Phineas looked at the wolf-girl before him.

“Isabella,” he said, and his voice was deeper, raspier, to a degree that would have made even Buford wet his pants at the sound of it.

Isabella approached him.

“I want…” he said. Words were not coming easily now. “I want…”

“Tell me,” she rasped, putting her hands on him, gripping him. “Tell me what you want.”

He looked right into her eyes, the blue now ringed with luminescent yellow.

“You.”

With a wolfish grin, Isabella replied, “Then take me.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him, hard, and even as Phineas kissed her back just as fiercely, his clawed hand went down her side, found the hem of her pink panties, and tore them from her hips. Isabella reached and tore Phineas’ shorts and Iron Man underwear to shreds with equal ease.

Phineas was astounded by what he saw as he looked down: his penis was red, and definitely larger than before. The head was conical, like the nose cone of a rocket, and there was a sort of thick ball at the base. And as he looked at it, he realized what he wanted to do with it.

He looked back up at Isabella, then seized her and practically threw her to the floor. She got up on all fours, raised her tail, and looked back at Phineas with pure, animal lust in her eyes, open and ready.

Phineas mounted her. He had no thoughts of being gentle, or of this being her first time, or his. He had no thoughts at all; just overwhelming need.

He found her entrance—he could have found it if he were blind, so powerfully did its scent draw him—and plunged in. Isabella let out a roaring scream, but she did nothing to try to stop him. In fact, as he pushed forward, she pushed back against him, taking him deeper.

His clawed hands took firm hold of her hips, and, his urges uncontrollable, he began fucking her at full speed. She whimpered and whined and growled, thrusting her hips back against him with every stroke.

She was hot inside—hot and tight and everything his instincts drove him to seek out and take and fuck. It felt good, so good, better than anything. And yet the want consumed him, forcing him to fuck Isabella harder, deeper. He needed more, and more, and more.

“Harder!” he heard her growl. “Harder!”

“Hrrrggh!” he grunted, thrusting harder and deeper still.

“Nggggh!” Isabella cried. “MORE!”

Instinctively, he pulled back. Then with a mighty shove, he forced the entire length of his cock—up to and past the thick knot all the way to the base—into her body.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” she screamed, and then she was cumming, her feral cunt squeezing his cock hard.

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAH!” Phineas roared, and he came, shooting load after load after load of hot, thick cum into his mate’s hot, eager depths.

Then, knotted together, they lay down on the floor on their sides, gasping.

***

Agent P leaped into the air and kicked Dr. Doofenshmirtz in the side of the face, sending the evil scientist reeling backward. He was planning to get into the Halloween spirit tonight by binge-watching the entire first season of Harry Palmer: Tween Wolf; he didn’t have time to waste on a prolonged battle.

“Perry the Platypus,” the man cried, “why are you in such a rush? You escaped my trap before I could even start explaining how I'm going to take over the Tri-State Area with my”—he glanced over at the machine that stood near the open window and that was labeled Lycanthropinator—“my, um, Lyco-...Lycanto-...Lyc-...You know, in hindsight, I probably should have tried saying the name out loud before I settled on- OOOF!”

Having forcefully gut-punched his opponent, Perry watched as Doofenshmirtz again reeled backward, this time stumbling into the Lycanthropinator. The top-heavy device tipped over the low windowsill and fell out the window. Seconds later, Perry could hear it smashing to bits on the empty street below.

“Aw, look what you made me- Hey!” Doofenshmirtz shouted as Perry leaped out the very same window, pulling his parachute’s ripcord and gliding away.

“CURSE YOU, PERRY THE PLATYPUS!”

***

There was a green flash, and Phineas suddenly felt the sensation of Isabella’s wooden floor against his bare skin, with no fur in between.

“Aaaand we’re back to normal,” the red-haired boy said.

“And naked,” Isabella replied.

“And wet and sticky.”

“On my bedroom floor.”

“That about sums up the situation.”

“Yup. Not awkward at all.”

After a few seconds of silence, Phineas said, “It’s kind of too bad, though.”

“What is?”

“That we’re not werewolves anymore. I was kind of looking forward to doing this again next month.”

There was another stretch of silence. Then Isabella spoke.

“Who says we have to wait a month?”

“Good point.”

- - -

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Full Moon over Danville