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stormz369 · 2 months

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The King of Hell and Me: Ch 2 - Molting

Chapter Guide Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Summary: Lucifer goes missing because he's embarrassed. Preening ensues. Wolf-demon reader. Warnings: fluff, Lucifer being bad at vulnerability, animal characteristics, implied arousal, rated mature (maybe?) Word Count: 3k

Lucifer had his own home, of course. But since the hotel’s grand re-opening, he’d been staying in his suite here. To be closer to Charlie, or to get himself out of his depression funk, or maybe both, it wasn’t clear. Either way, we’d found ourselves spending a lot of time together. We ate breakfast together most days, he told me all about his most recent duck-based inventions, and he was the only person I let into my office while I was doing my work for the hotel. Charlie had hired me as an all-purpose consultant, letting me work on any projects I wanted, and I dove straight into the advertising/community outreach/PR side of things. My work didn’t typically look like much until I had a completed product to present, so I didn’t like to have people watching my process, and as long as I kept her in the loop Charlie didn’t mind my secretive ways. But Lucifer was a creative mind too. He understood that sitting at my desk apparently doing nothing wasn’t actually nothing, and he let me be.

He was also the only person allowed to put things in my office, but that was only because he felt it was odd that I was a wolf without a pack, -because “Even hellhounds have packs, dear girl! Wolf-demons aren’t that uncommon, you need a family!”- and had started making one for me, a slowly growing pack of rubber ducks with wolf ears and fluffy tails. Every so often I’d find a new one in my office, and each one did something unusual. A pair facing each other on the windowsill had a laser between them that would alert us to intruders, but most were silly things like duck-wolves that could jump and growl, or were actually soap dispensers or changed color with the weather.

It actually worked out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. We both had a tendency to dive headfirst into our hyperfixations, and when one of us did, the other usually managed to keep them from spiraling too far. He’d comb my hair and fur, and remind me to take breaks. I’d bring him dinner and get him out of his room when he was getting frustrated. One time I even sat in the bathroom taking notes while he talked so he could shower without losing his flow. We weren't exactly romantic, but it was far more emotionally intimate than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. And, with no one else filling that role for either of us, we did end up on the receiving end of a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes.

And that’s why, when he suddenly just wasn’t at the hotel one morning, I got a bit nervous. And, I’ll be honest, frustrated. I reminded myself that just because we typically spent breakfasts together didn’t mean we had to every day. Just because he’d told me every time he was leaving the hotel for the last few months didn’t mean he was beholden to me. We were friends, but he wasn’t mine and I couldn’t tell him what to do. I had no right or reason to be put off by this unexpected change to my routine. So I ate breakfast alone, went down to my office to work alone, and … couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t focus, everything was just a bit off. I should be able to hear his breathing, see his faint glow out of the corner of my eye, feel his hands in my hair. But I was entirely, soul crushingly, alone.

I texted him every day for the first week. Then once every few days, which quickly became once a week, but he never responded. He didn’t even look at them. I was starting to think he might be mad at me, but I couldn’t imagine what I could have done to upset him so much. I started working evenings, finding it less uncomfortable to be alone at night, but I had trouble getting much done either way. Charlie started bringing me breakfast in my office when everyone else had dinner. I appreciated that she was making sure I ate, but I was just as worried about her as she was about me. Lucifer hadn’t reached out to her either, and he wasn’t taking her calls, and her calm facade was starting to crack. At least she had Vaggie though. I was just alone.

A month into his disappearance I was working late again. Everyone was in bed, and I was trying to finish up this advertising campaign mock up for Charlie, when I heard the door of the hotel creak open. My ears perked up, and I cracked my office door open, listening carefully. I couldn’t make out who had come to visit. There were footsteps, light and airy but far too heavy to be Lucifer. I sniffed the air, glad for my more animalistic senses, hoping to catch some kind of clue. Friend, or foe? Welcome, or defend? The air smelled … musty, and damp. Something was very off.

I flicked my wrist, extending my claws, and made my way silently down the dark hallway. The intruder stumbled up the stairs, it would be silent to those without acute hearing, but I heard every step. I followed along, trying to visualize where they were from the sounds. They made their way past the elevator and up more flights of stairs, and I tracked along behind them, staying a floor below them to avoid detection. I wanted to know who they were, but I also wanted to know what they were looking for. When they finally made their way down a hallway, I glowered. They were on Charlie’s floor. I waited, listening halfway up the stairs so I could pounce if needed, until I heard them stop at a door. I jumped up, landing a few feet away from the short, trenchcoat clad figure. They jumped, pressing themself against the wall as if they could disappear through it, and dropped … a key?

“... Lucifer?” I whispered.

He turned toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. “... Heeey … I’m home!”

I sighed, scooping up his key and unlocking his door, gesturing for him to go inside. “Don’t wake Charlie.”

He nodded, darting inside. His footfalls were too heavy, he was hunched over a bit, and his back looked bulky under his coat. Something was wrong. He sat awkwardly on the couch, kicking his feet a bit. “Sooo … How’ve you been?”

“How have I been? … Luc, where have you been? … Y- you didn’t call, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or when you’d be back, you sneak in in the dead of night in whatever that is, you smell like a drowned bird, and you’re walking like an injured dog. And you ask how I’ve been???” A deranged laugh ripped its way out of my throat as I collapsed onto the seat next to him. “... Do you even care that we’ve all been worried sick? … I … you didn’t text me back … You were just … gone.”

He flinched a bit, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “... I .. I’m sorry, puppy … I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I had something to attend to.”

I sighed softly, letting him take my hand. “What was so important that you couldn’t even tell us you were ok?”

“I … just had to …” He sighed. “Look, it’s kind of embarrassing, ok? I …” He mumbled something, a low whine in the back of his throat masking his words.

“... What was that?”

“I’m molting, ok?” He whined, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m molting, and I can’t comfortably put my wings away until it’s over, and they’re ugly right now! So I just … I thought I’d just go to the manor until it was over. I was only coming back tonight to get my sketchbook so I could work on a project…”

I blinked a bit, trying not to laugh. “... Right. … Just so I’m clear, cause I didn’t really interact with birds on earth. Molting is the one where birds lose a bunch of feathers and get new ones, right?” He nodded. “And it’s a yearly thing?”

He nodded again, “For most birds. Angels get a little one each year, and a big one each decade. It takes forever! It’s … unpleasant. Messy …” He grumbled softly; “humiliating.”

“Humiliating? It’s just part of having wings, isn’t it? How is that humiliating?”

“... You’ve seen my wings, what did you think of them?”

I let out a sigh, thinking. “... They’re bigger than I expected, but that makes sense since you’re not a bird. They’d have to be pretty big to lift you up … unless you’ve got hollow bones and they’re just ostentatious?” I chuckled a bit, hoping to lighten his mood, but it didn’t seem to work. “... They’re beautiful, and they look really soft … You look so majestic when you fly …”

“Exactly. … Beautiful. Majestic. That’s what they’re supposed to be … but when the molt comes they’re … really not that. … Molting is messy, and itchy, and … gross! … I look like a plucked chicken under this coat…” He whined softly, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. “And the worst part is that I can’t even rush it along like we did in heaven, because I can’t reach!”

“... Can’t reach? … Do you have to pluck something, or?”

He nodded. “At the end of the molt the new feathers have these keratin sheaths that have to be removed … In heaven we’d get a few trusted angels together and circle up, but I can’t do that here! So I just have to wait for them to peel off on their own!”

I frowned softly, gently stroking his shoulder. He whined softly, looking at me hesitantly. “Lucifer, … I’m sure this is a … sensitive topic, and I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t ask, but … if you wanted to ask, … I would help. And I promise, I wouldn’t judge you for what they look like right now, or talk to anyone else about it, or anything like that … It’s just like when you got that matt out of my fur, that was pretty embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t see it well enough to get it out myself. So you sat down with me, and you took a set of combs, and detangling spray, and a pair of scissors, and you fixed it for me. … You could have just cut it out, but you didn’t. You sat there and meticulously detangled it for hours, and then you trimmed everything so it wouldn’t get bad so easily again. Remember? … I could do the same for you.”

He nodded slowly, sighing softly. “I just … I didn’t want you to see … you don’t understand, they look really bad right now …”

“So did my neck.”

He thought for a moment, sighing before he carefully slipped the ugly beige trench coat off. His wings were pressed firmly against his back, almost trembling. He turned away, letting me get a good look at them. The majority of his flight feathers had already gone through the process, but about half of the fluffy down feathers were still encased, or partially encased, in cylindrical sheaths. I smiled softly, gently stroking down his spine. “It really doesn’t look so bad, Luci. Let’s get comfy, ok? Do you wanna lay down somewhere?”

A shiver went up his spine, and his wings attempted to puff up in response. It did look a bit sad, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that. He was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. His wings were usually a source of great pride for him, I wasn’t about to make this harder for him. He slowly nodded, and carefully got up. I followed him to his bedroom, a little concerned by how wobbly he seemed.

“... Luc, is the molt really the only thing that’s going on? You seem a bit … off?”

He collapsed onto his bed, pulling a pillow under his chest and crossing his arms under himself. “It’s enough … The little molts take a lot of energy, but the big ones … The big ones really suck … I’ve been in bed pretty much since I left …”

I nodded, sitting next to him. “I see … so, I just start peeling these things off the feathers?”

He nodded. “Gently, please … You can roll them a bit if they resist, but if that doesn’t work move on to the next one. Most of them should be ready though.”

I hummed softly, gently taking the wing in front of me and carefully extending it. He groaned softly, following my movements compliantly. I let the wing rest on my legs and began carefully sliding my fingertips over the little cylinders. Most of the keratin sheaths started to flake and crumble away under my touch, and I carefully rolled the slightly more resistant ones between my fingers. Under my touch, fluffy down and contour feathers began to emerge. I gently brushed the debris away, careful of my claws. I knew I had to do this perfectly; to prove he could trust me with things like this. He wasn’t moving or making any noises though, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.

I worked methodically from the bottom where his wing attached to his back, up and out to the wingtip, periodically brushing the detritus away and stroking his freshly exposed feathers. I finished the right side and got halfway through the wings on the left before I ran into one that started to peel away, but then didn’t want to budge. I was about to move on like he’d told me, but I paused when I heard the first noise Lucifer made since I started touching his wings; a high pitched whine. He squirmed uncomfortably, and his wings ruffled up a bit.

“... Luci? D- did I hurt you?”

“Noooo … I want it off …” He whimpered softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “... C- Can you scratch it a bit? Just a bit!”

I nodded, humming softly my agreement, and carefully ran a claw along the sheath. His high whine returned, but this time it seemed a bit more … pleased? I scratched again, watching little bits of the sheath peel away. After just a little bit more the sheath fell away entirely, releasing its fluffy feather, and Lucifer sighed happily.

“Ohhh fuck~ … Oh, that’s so much better! Your hands are magic~” He moaned softly, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

I cleared my throat; “... I’m glad you’re liking it, Luc.”

I carefully continued to the tip of his wing. There were only a few that hadn’t been ready to go yet, and his wings were back to their full, shiny, fluffy glory. He sighed happily, but didn’t move to get up, so I just continued to stroke his feathers.

“Ahh~ … Puppy, that’s wonderful~ … But y- … you do know, wings are sensitive, yeah?” He slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at me. The heat on his face made me squirm shyly, and I shakily removed my hands.

“S- Sorry … I …” I blushed bright red, scooting backwards. He whined softly, slowly sitting up and facing me.

He shakily reached for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “... I wasn’t trying to make you stop. …”

I blushed even more, looking up at him shyly. “... So … should I continue?”

He slowly lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “... Only if you wish to.”

I nodded slowly, shakily pushing him to lay back down. He did, watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I straddled his hips, stroking his wings gently.

“... They’re so beautiful, Luci … You are beautiful …” I was mesmerized, letting my hands trail along the soft feathers.

He sighed happily, settling under me. “... I cannot believe I let this go on for a full blessed month when I could have had your hands on me this whole time …”

I chuckled softly, continuing to preen him gently. “Never again, yes? You come to me for this, whenever you need it. Or even if you just want it. … You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

“Because we’re an old married couple.” He nodded, yawning softly. “Yes, love, anything wifey wants~”

I blushed brightly, trying desperately to stop the squeak from leaving my mouth. Others had called us a married couple before, mostly to tease us, but we had never said it. “... That’s right, husband. Anything I want.”

He smirked slightly. “Husband … I like the way that word sounds when you say it ... If you’re not careful, I might just make you my wife for real …”

“... And what exactly would ‘being careful’ look like?”

“Oh, you know. Not letting me touch you anymore, keeping me out of your office, making fun of my ducks. … Taking your hands off my wings would definitely count as being careful.”

I chuckled softly, steeling my nerves and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. I whispered against his ear; “sounds like a horrible way to live. I think I’ll take my chances.”

His eyes flew open, looking up at me. A bright red blush spread across his face, and a hesitant smile graced his lips. “... I agree. A horrible way to live.”

He carefully slid out from under me, turning around so I was in his lap instead, and gently cupped my cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. I leaned into his touch, sighing happily, and he slid his hand up to stroke my fluffy wolf ear. An almost electric feeling shot through me, leaving me gasping, and I hesitantly looked up at him. He smirked slightly, pulling me closer and kissing me softly before he whispered in my ear; “Now don’t give me that look, love~ You’ve been doing it to me this whole time~”

#hazbin #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fluff #wingplay #preening #molting #lucifer's wings #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader

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demigodlyquotes · 1 month

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OKAY IM BORED SO

CAMP JUPITER HEADCANONS!

- Lupa (the wolf lady they all meet & train with before going totally camp) CANNOT SPEAK (i refuse canon.) and actually uses morse code to communicate

- but not like regular old morse code because where’s the fun in that? instead she created her own wolfish version

- the roman demigods all know it

- since they spent most of their childhoods with Lupa & the wolves, the romans tend to have some ‘wolfish tendencies’ (eg. growling when angry, howling sometimes, etc.)

- do you guys remember when it was revealed that Jason has a cut on his lip from when he ate a stapler? ok what if that’s like a roman thing and all the romans have stories of eating stuff they weren’t supposed to when they were younger 💀.

- MOST OF THE ROMANS HAVE LIFE SIZE WOLF PLUSHIES THAT LOOK IDENTICAL TO EITHER LUPA OR THEIR FAVORITE WOLF FROM WHEN THEY WERE WITH HER!!

- Jason and Reyna used to share a plushie, but since neither of them really need it anymore, Reyna decided to bury it with Jason.

- I like to think that there’s like a really detailed sculptured wall in New Rome from like decades ago and next to it is like a modern plain wall.

- I can’t remember how far away New Rome is from Camp Jupiter but I imagine the path has like a really tropical vibe, ykwim? Like there’s shades and benches that look like fallen logs all through it.

- and like the path has some smaller side paths that lead to little gardens with like small ponds and stuff

- okay going back to the morse code thing:

when the Greeks & Romans first meet up, the Greek campers don’t know the Romans know morse code. but like the greeks really love tapping stuff. so just imagine a greek demigod just like tapping the table or something, nervous cause yk the romans are probably scary, and one roman suddenly jumps up and says “take that back!”

- OH! others see the romans as like big mean scary guys, but they’re really just sweethearts (they WILL choke you out though)

- this is random but i feel like most of them are like bigger and buffer than CHB, ykwim? like- i feel like CHB has more of a lean, skinner build while CJ has more of like.. football player builds? i dont know how to describe it.

- CJ gives off like rich kid bodyguard vibes. Like yk those book/movie tropes? CHB gives off ‘the summer i fell in love and in Tartarus’ while CJ mainly gives off like ‘big buff bodyguard that is secretly a big softie’

- I can’t remember if this is true or not, but I feel like they’d have tunnels going underneath the city & the camp and like everywhere. Like there’s a LOT of tunnels & you could spend an entire lifetime in there and still not find all of them.

- YK that scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender where they go to Aang’s air temple & see the room with all the past avatars? I feel like the cohorts have something similar with statues of all the praetors that came from their cohort. They probably have a garden.

- SPEAKING OF THE COHORTS! The cohorts have their own places to live and it’s like college dormitory style ykwim? Like they have really tall towers with the gardens and the statues in the front.

- and like if they run out of space, the building like magically makes more without changing the shape of the exterior (Harry Potter inspired unfortunately)

that’s all for now

#camp jupiter #percy jackson #pjo

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dominimoonbeam · 10 months

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The Other Way

To @ejunkiet, my beloved.

A David/Angel slight au. The meet cute in the woods.

The Other Way

Angel hated hiking.

Why had they even agreed to this?

Okay, that was easy to answer. They hadn’t agreed, it had been a team building work thing and it was bullshit! And honestly, they’d been all for it and having a great time right up until they realized they were lost.

At first, they hadn’t exactly admitted to themselves that they were lost but now it was becoming unavoidable. The sun was setting and it was getting cold.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Angel whispered every time they held their phone up to stare at that no service symbol. Fucked, that’s what they were! Fucked!

A branch broke and something whined.

Angel spun toward it, clutching their phone tightly to their chest and staring into the trees. “Hello?”

Oh, that was great. Real smart.

Another whine.

Angel jumped back a step, eyes feeling like they might pop out of their head any second. “Is someone there?”

Of course, no one was there! That was clearly an animal sound!

But it was a hurt animal sound…

They had to see if it was okay, didn’t they?

No! Of course, they shouldn’t do that! What if it was a bear or something and ate them!

What if it wasn’t a bear and they could help?

What if it was a bear but they still could help?

They had a responsibility to try!

Or did they?

Angel thought this whole situation was definitely the fault of their boss. They should never have been put in the wilderness to make these decisions! They were a city person! And if they saw a lost dog or a cat in a tree or a bird with a broken wing they sure as shit did something about it.

Was this different?

“Oh fuck,” Angel exhaled, pocketed their useless phone, and inched forward through the trees.

They quickly came up on the base of a rocky slope, a ledge of more trees far above, and there, on the ground, was a dog.

Angel hurried closer at that familiar shape pulling at their heartstrings, and then stopped short when they were close enough to realize this was absolutely not a dog.

They’d never seen a wolf before and certainly never imagined they could get this big.

It whined and twitched, legs curling in and scratching at the ground as he tried to get up.

Angel exhaled soothing sounds, inching closer. “Woah, okay… take it easy,” they tried in their gentlest voice.

The big canine jerked, panting, one eye lulling to the side to look at them.

His eyes were so yellow. Angel stopped again, hands out as if they needed to show this wolf with their palms that they meant no harm.

He huffed and tried to get up again, almost managing it before falling down again, one of his front legs clearly broken.

“Hey, take it easy,” Angel said, pulling their backpack of and squatting beside his head. He was big. Really big. Way too big to be normal. Angel pulled out their water bottle. “If I had cell service out here I could google what to do about your leg… For now, here,” they emptied their bag on the ground and then used the waterproof lining to create a bowl out of it, pouring all the water from the bottle in right by the wolf’s snout.

It looked at them again and Angel could have sworn it was scrutinizing them. Were wolves always this expressive? They got the sense he was judging them… But then he huffed and lapped up the water.

Angel smiled, relieved, and sat cross-legged beside him. They tried to pet him, but he rumbled a clear snarl, so they stopped.

They grabbed the candy bars they’d packed for lunch and unwrapped one, holding it out toward the wolf’s muzzle.

It eyed them again and they were definitely sure he was judging them now. “It’s all I have. I didn’t exactly know I’d find you.” They waved the candy close to his mouth.

He snapped at it, taking the whole them in a smooth snatch and twist. Like he knew exactly how a wrapper worked and how to leave it behind in their grip. His teeth were huge! Angel laughed excitedly. “Wow! You’re big!”

The wolf actually snorted and then whined and dropped its head down again, like this had been too much effort right now.

Angel nodded. “You sleep. I’ll keep watch for help.”

The wolf didn’t snort this time but it didn’t try to leave either.

Angel ate a candy bar and tried to think of a way to get them help. Eventually someone should come looking for them… They really were important at their company. They couldn’t see their boss just ditching them out there…

About an hour later it was dark and cold. Angel hugged their knees and watched the stars. “Tomorrow will be better,” they told the wolf, teeth clattering.

It stirred enough to huff, which sounded like a wolfy “yeah right” if ever they’d heard one.

And then the wolf moved a little, whining at the effort but settling it’s head closer to them, against their side. Angel froze for long seconds, expecting it to growl at them for the contact even though he had initiated it. There was no growling, just that deep even breathing of sleep and the warmth radiating off that thick fur. Angel leaned closer and closer, until they were pressed against the side of the wolf’s neck, their cheek to its shoulder and their body pressed in as close as they could get.

When they woke up, it was morning.

The wolf huffed and tried to get up again, almost managed this time and growled angrily when it didn’t.

“You’re getting better!” Angel said when he seemed discouraged.

The wolf bared teeth but didn’t snarl, head on its paws again.

Angel fed it another candy bar.

“We might need more water soon… I think there was a stream… That way?” they said, trying to decide which way they had seen a stream. The wolf looked dubious. Angel put their empty water bottle in their bag. “I bet I can find it…”

He rumbled, clearly uncertain of this plan.

Before Angel could get up, a string of howls echoed far away from the woods on the ridge above. It was so faint, but it was there and the wolf lifted his big head to try to see up the cliffside.

It tried to howl, the sound caught in its throat before it seemed to give up and drop its head again, eyes shut and breathing labored.

That must be his pack.

Angel cupped their hands to their mouth and howled as loud and as best as they could up toward the trees at the top of that ridge.

The wolf’s yellow eyes flung open and his head jerked to the side to stare at them.

Angel did it again and they both waited.

Nothing.

Angel sighed and got up. “Okay. I’m going to go… that way, and look for the stream. I’ll be back.”

The wolf rumbled.

Angel started walking but only got a couple steps.

“It’s the other way, dumbass!” a gruff, strained voice snapped.

Angel jumped, almost falling down in their surprise as they spun back around.

The wolf was gone.

GONE.

There was a man laying on the ground in the same spot, a broken arm to his chest and the side of his face bruised.

“What. The. Fuck!” Angel gasped out.

He rolled his eyes, wincing as he tried to sit up. “You have got to be the stupidest person I have ever met!”

“Excuse you?” Angel snapped, clutching the straps of their bag and marching those few steps back to him. He was a big man. He had been a big wolf. Really? Really!? Yes. “Fuuuuck. I’ve lost my mind.”

“Oh, I think you lost it way before you found me. I can’t believe you tried to pet me.”

“You… You…”

“I could have fucking killed you! What if I’d been an actual wild animal? Are you insane?”

“You were hurt!”

“I could have killed you!”

“But you didn’t!”

They stared at each other.

Angel frowned at the state of him. He looked a lot more banged up as a person than a wolf. “So…You fell?”

“Obviously,” he snapped.

Angel nodded. Of course, he was pissy, his arm was definitely broken. They stood there awkwardly for another second and then took a step back. “Okay, so… I’m going to go look for water and—”

“Wrong. Way.” He ground out.

Angel blinked.

He looked up at them again and then pointed with his good arm in the other direction. “The stream is that way.”

Angel smiled sheepishly and shuffled in that direction. “Okay. Cool. Be right back… What-What was your name again?”

He cringed and laid back down. They weren’t sure if he was in pain physically or if this was his dramatic mental anguish, either way they decided to let him have it. He was clearly having a worse time of things than they were. “I didn’t tell you. Fucking covert… If I die I guess it won’t be my problem anyway…”

Angel waited while he grumbled to himself.

“David.”

Angel smiled. It was a surprisingly normal name for a wolf person. They inched closer, pulled out their last candy bar, and put it next to him. He glared. He really did look a lot the same as he had as a wolf… “In case you get hungry or… you know…”

“In case you get lost again and can’t find me?” His voice pitched in shock as he said it.

Angel shrugged. They were just turning to go when he grabbed their leg. They looked down, marveling at the size of his hand wrapped around their ankle. And then they heard it, that low growling.

“Don’t move,” he said, voice low and just above a whisper.

A wolf stepped from the trees, followed by another to the left.

Angel blinked. “Are they… like you?” they whispered, but felt their stomach dropping in a way that told them they weren’t that lucky. These wolves were smaller than he had been. Three more came into view, lips curled and teeth bared, something about it making tears prick Angel’s eyes. “Oh shit…”

David growled, the sound far from human.

Angel felt like there was a weight on their chest, pressing hard, squeezing tears and air out of them.

He still had his hand around their leg, the squeeze solid but not bruising. His hand slid up, past their knee, to their thigh. He pulled them back, until they were shuffling around his side and he was letting go to push them behind him. He struggled to his feet, one arm still curled to his side.

The wolves snapped, moving closer.

Angel’s back hit the rock wall.

David shifted right in front of them and their mind tried to absorb the image of a man turning into a wolf. He snapped massive jaws and for an instant the wolves flinched back, startled, but he staggered with that broken leg and what looked like broken ribs too. Still he snarled, like yes, he was hurt, but no he wasn’t going to let them get past him.

Angel wasn’t sure if it was a bluff or not. They weren’t sure it mattered.

And then, just when two of the wolves were about to lunge in on him, a third aiming to dart around at Angel, a massive brown wolf surged in from the side, slamming into the one that had been aiming for Angel and snatching one of the others by the neck.

Angel held their breath, unblinking as two wolves descended on that whole pack, breaking up their hope of a meal in a matter of seconds and sending them all running.

David shifted into human again, knees hitting the ground with a grunt of pain.

The brown wolf that had shown up first cast a glance between him and Angel before shifting into a man too, catching David by the shoulders to steady him. “Hang on, big guy. We found you.” He looked at Angel again, smirking. “And you found…”

Angel perked up, scrubbing the tears from their face. “I found him,” they corrected.

The third wolf shifted too, coming over to kneel beside David and get a look at the damage.

“I’m Asher,” the standing one said, smiling.

David groaned. “Don’t introduce yourself! They’re a fucking covert disaster already…”

Angel ignored him, stepping up and offering their hand and their name.

Asher took it with the hand not propping up his friend. “Were you the one howling?”

Angel grinned. “You heard me?” They tapped at David’s back. “See! It worked! I saved you!”

David growled. “You did not.”

“They kind of did…” the third wolf begrudgingly mumbled. “Your arm is broken and so are your ribs. Do you want me to get a healer out here or do you think you can make it back to the road if we carry you?”

“There are healers?” Angel started bouncing but stopped when it made them feel lightheaded.

Asher’s gaze flicked over them curiously. “You’re a hiker?”

“I’m lost,” Angel explained.

David snorted like it was an understatement.

Angel laughed. “Screw you, dude, you’re lucky I got lost. I saved you!”

David groaned. “I don’t care if you throw me over your shoulder, Milo, just get me the fuck out of here.”

The one next to him, Milo, smiled like he was trying not to. “With those ribs, it’s more likely to be bridal style, boss…”

“What about them?” Asher asked, still looking at Angel. Why was he staring like that? It wasn’t a scary stare or a creepy stare…

“Leave them,” David grumped.

Asher smiled. “They’re about to faint…”

David swung around to stare up at Angel.

Angel blinked back, white spots in their vision. “No, I’m not.” The white spots grew and their stomach felt all jellylike.

The last thing they saw was panic on David’s face. “Asher!” he yelled and just as their legs gave out, the other man stepped in and caught them.

#Angel/David #redactedverse #redacted asmr #dominimoonbeam #fanfic #meet cute reimagined #in the wild #cute as hell!#that's right I wrote something sweet!#<3

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roodles03 · 1 year

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So soft. So squishy. So cuddly.

I headcannon that Hunter loves plushies, and I lobe squishmallows. So one day I was like "Do they make wolf squismallows?" So I googled it and yes they do! And now this drawing exists.

I feel like Hunter would be embarrassed about his love for stuffed animals and only Willow knows, so I like to imagine Willow bought him this. Hunter loves it. He cuddles with it at night and sometimes uses it as a pillow. He thinks its adorable and loves squeezing it.

I love how the show was like "Hunter loves wolves" and the fandom ate that shit up lol.

I plan on going to a con to meet Zeno Robinson and I'm gonna cosplay 3 Hunter oufits one of them is the wolf shirt and I committed so much to this drawing I actually spent 50 bucks to buy the wolf squishmallow I referenced. Wow I'm really strange, huh?

#the owl house #the owl house hunter #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #toh hunter #hunter noceda #the owl house fanart #the owl house fan art #squishmallow #squishmallows #toh fanart #toh fan art #hunter park

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pixelexplorersworld · 18 days

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Razor hungry headcannons

•he grew up with wolves so im guessing that growing up he was always hungry and would try to hunt food himself with the other wolves too poor little guy:(

•when he’s with his friends like Bennett there is always a time where his tummy interrupts something, for example: imagine razor and Bennett fighting a bunch of monsters and after there done all Bennett and razor hears is *gruuuuuuu* razor is jus sad that he’s hungry and rubs his tummy while Bennett is just confused and a little annoyed bc they ate not to long ago

•when he feels a rumble coming in his tummy he whimpers like a little puppy showing that he knows what’s coming but accepts it and lets it happen but not without a fight

•when he was still a child he must have been so scared when he heard his tummy growl for the first time he must have been whimpering and asking the other wolves “what.. is that noise?” Till eventually someone tells him and little razor doesn’t like it when his tummy makes noises because then he feels it and sometimes it can even hurt like a wolf howling in the night (I think)

That’s all I hope u liked it!:)

#genshin hunger #genshin impact #stomach kink #stomach growling #empty stomach

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kpoptarotvibes · 8 months

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A Town Surrounded By Wolves Ch. 10

A Town Surrounded By Wolves (m)

Wolf Au

Pairing – Werewolf Jungkook x Human (Female)! Reader

Genre – Werewolf AU, Smut, Humor, Angst, Strangers To Lovers.

Author Note: This world is a mix of olden times and the future. So there will be an odd mixture of old and new dialogue and décor.

Summary – The townspeople made an agreement with the wolves that they would make a virgin sacrifice every year to keep the wolves from attacking the town. You were the sacrifice this year. In a confusing twist of fate, you find out who the real wolves are.

Author Note: Sorry this is short need this to set up a larger chapter. Please don't be a silent reader your feedback is much appricated.

Ch. 10

The morning was unusually quiet. You and Jungkook ate breakfast in silence. You couldn't help but feel bothered by his lack of communication. He hardly looked at you, didn't touch your back or hips like he usually did, and didn't engage in his usual flirty banter. You knew that the situation was weighing on him, but he was trying to keep it to himself.

"Hey," you called out quietly, trying to break his attention from his thoughts. He looked over at you, his brown hair messy with a slight pout on his lips. The puffiness under his eyes made him look cute and sleepy for once. “We said we would work it out, right?" He nodded but barely smiled. You sighed, feeling like giving up. At the moment, you didn't think there was anything you could say or do to make him feel better.

As you finished breakfast and got dressed in his huge, beautiful closet, you noticed Jungkook was still lost in thought or pouting. It made you feel bad, but then you saw him packing a bag for both of you. It gave you hope that what he confessed to you the night before wasn't just a figment of your imagination.

Your thoughts shifted to your best friend and how you would tell her about your week with Jungkook. You imagined a few reactions she might give you. Then your thoughts drifted to your parents, and you couldn't wait to see them and tell them you were okay. It felt like you had been there for more than a week. You felt like you spent a month there, learning hard truths, healing, and discovering that love could still be for you even after the death of a boyfriend.

You let out a sigh, lost in thought. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted you. You looked up to see Jimin standing in the closet doorway.

“Are you guys ready yet? Jimin asked.

"I don't know. I think we are," you said as you looked towards Jungkook, who had his back turned towards you and was busy packing.

"Yeah, almost," he answered nonchalantly. You looked at him and then cast your eyes downward in sadness. You really hated his mood right now. Jimin must have noticed because you felt him gently tug on your arm.

"Hey, let's talk for a minute," Jimin said as he grasped your arm and led you out of the closet. He gently led you into the grand living room until you were standing in front of him, with his eyes searching yours.

“He’s been quiet all morning,” you said sadly. “He won’t talk to me.”

Jimin affectionately squeezed your upper arm. "It's okay, just give him some space. This is hard for him too," Jimin assured you softly. All you could do was nod quietly in agreement. You knew it was difficult for both of you because nothing was certain and plans for staying together were not finalized. This created tension between you both. You naively thought that since last night, you both agreed quietly in each other's arms that you would work things out and be together no matter what. You felt an ache in your chest over this.

“Look everyone deals with situations in their own way. This is something that could be a reminder of what he lost in the past. So just give him a little space to try and deal with it in his own way,” he gently nodded hoping you agree. But all it did was make you feel bad and selfish.

You sighed feeling tears gathering up in your eyes. “I know. I just….God I’m being so selfish right now,” you swallowed holding back a sob.

“No! no your not,” Jimin tried to protest.

“I am. Knowing what happened to him. How can I expect him to be any other way,” you choked. Now tears were starting to stream. You sniffed trying to wipe them away quick. You really didn’t want to cry like this in front of Jimin.

“Aww no. Don’t cry,” Jimin embraced you and held you tight. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m so sorry. Everything will work out. I promise. Just give him some time that’s all,” he said so gently into your ear as he held you. You only nodded in his shoulder you didn’t trust yourself to talk.

“Just remember you will always be a part of our pack now. We won’t abandon you. We will always be here for you,” he said as he tried to comfort you. You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you just silently nodded his shoulder.

Both of you stayed silent for a minute. Jimin gave you a chance to calm down and compose yourself. You pulled away from him and wiped away the remaining tears, sniffing. Finally, you calmed down some. You looked at each other, and Jimin silently asked with his eyes if you were okay. You gently nodded, and he slowly let you go.

You could hear Jungkook walking down the hallway. He stopped and looked at both of you curiously, then at you with a hint of sadness. "I'm ready," he spoke. His eyes lingered on your face for a bit before he turned and headed out of the front door. Your heart ached as you looked after him.

Jimin gently squeezed your arm to offer comfort, and you followed him out to help. Slowly, you made your way out of the house. Jungkook and Jimin were busy packing the remaining luggage and supplies into the back of the SUV. When Jungkook finished putting away his last bag, he stopped to look at you. He said something quietly to Jimin, who nodded and then looked back at you with a small smile before heading towards the back door of the SUV.

You stopped in front of Jungkook. He looked down at you with a sorrowful expression, then pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed and rested your head deeper into his chest, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. You wanted his attention and affection, but not like this while you were both in an emotionally triggered situation.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he pulled back and kissed you on your forehead. Pressed his forehead to yours.

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry and make a big de…

“No don’t apologize it was me. I….my behavior my mood it’s just….I really don’t want to lose you. And I’m trying as hard as I can to act like everything is okay. But I’m not,” he struggled to confess. And it hurt to hear because you knew what this situation triggered inside of him. You knew what memory this brought up in him.

You wished you could reassure him better, but you yourself didn't know how your family would react to this. You didn't want to make him any promises you weren't sure you could keep. You felt helpless and powerless right now, and you hated that feeling.

“But that’s no excuse I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he went on. Gently pulling you towards him into a hug and you let him hold you tight.

Suddenly, you hear a car pull up quickly. Jungkook tenses up and looks in the direction of the sound. As you both pull away, you see Taehyung jump out of a truck and almost run towards you.

“I’m coming! I’m coming! He yelled in a panic.

You looked at him in shock. So, you will be introducing your family to 3 wolves instead of 2. You guessed Jimin was right, you were a part of their pack now. No one was going to let go of you that easily.

Tag List:

@tsunderelle @lilacdreams-00 @kpopnightingale @carolsummerlove@taeyongzodiactwinkiri

#bts werewolf au #jungkook werewolf smut #bts fanfiction #werewolf jungkook #bts fanfic #bts wolf au #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts hybrid au #ot7 x reader

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aedonys · 7 months

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LRRH!lucemond

DAY 1: dark little red riding hood. my enetry for #lcmdfairytalewk

Aemond's hunger stirred, yet little Lucerys dwelled in emptiness, in famine—for love, for a tender touch. He ached, his yearning resounding through the chambers of his soul, an echo haunting and chasmic.

from CC:

I'm in love with your Little Red Riding Hood lucemond art. So unexpected and sexy to have Little Red eat the wolf. Can you expand on this universe? What led up to the art?

Anonymous

Aedonys

AH, I APOLOGISE I JUST SAW THIS. I'm so glad you loved it ><🫀🫀 Thank you for asking darling. tbh, it was a Hansel and Gretel world-inspired lrrh. In the original German version, there was a famine that left people starving. Parents used to eat their children when they couldn't feed them anymore, and some left their children to die in the woods eaten by wolves rather than starved.

Here, from where the quote I wrote under the artwork comes to light: "Aemond's hunger stirred, yet little Lucerys dwelled in emptiness, in famine—for love, for a tender touch. He ached, his yearning resounding through the chambers of his soul, an echo haunting and chasmic."

Here, wolf!Aemond WAS planning to eat lrrh!lucerys was sent by his parents out in the middle of the night to "check on his grandma" who lives on another mountain miles away. Lucerys, who knew about his parents' plan, accepted his fate and took nothing else with him except his red hood (which explains why there is no basket in sight. He was ready to die. There was nothing else for him to live for. He didn't have a lover or a life partner, he was the only one unmarried and still living with his parents. He had nothing for his name and no reason to live.

But as he came across a wolf that emptiness inside him, both figuratively and physically speaking, echoed loudly, and he didn't comprehend anything else. I would like to think that maybe this is the moment that love-starved Lucerys realised it doesn't have to be. Death may be an end but he didn't want it alone. He pounced on Aemond hitting him hard on his neck, leaving him choking on the ground unable to breathe or hold himself straight, before he used the wolf's claws to cut open his chest and stomach while Aemond was still alive horrified.

Aemond was hungry, but Lucerys was famished. He ate and gnawed at his moving guts and didn't stop or pause. He was high on the taste of blood and meat, and he was feeding the actual starved monster of this story in him (hence why his pupils are dilated).

The art is from the hunter's point of view when he stumbles upon this scene. A few seconds before Aemond died from the disembowelment, he ran there bc he heard his screams. Even with his loud footsteps, Lucerys didn't twitch and continued eating, which prompted the hunter to try and get a closer look. He was terrified when he saw Lucy's blank face turn to him so quickly.

This is a love story. a one-sided love at first sight that transcended the boundaries of the simple pray-hunter relationship. I would imagine after Lucerys snaps out of this state he would either be too horrified at the sight and claw out his eyes or he would go back and kill his parents.

#fanart #hotd #houseofthedragon #asoiaf #aemond #aemondtargaryen #lucerys #lucerysvelaryon #lucemond #lucerys velaryon #lcmdfairytalewk

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levyfiles · 1 year

Note

Do you think there’s any chance Andrew and Adam will join Watcher?

I like to dream that it's possible but I have two wolves in my body and the other keeps saying that Adam and Andrew are comfortable where they're at. And with Steven focusing more and more on the business side to keep things moving at Watcher like the studious hero he is, I don't imagine there's a lot of a creative outlet available to Andrew at Watcher in the first place.

My only real hope is that Steven will take little opportunities to work with ATE now and then or we'll still see Andrew as a guest (imagine him dealing with TMS!Steven!)

At the end of the day; if I'm being real honest? I hope one day I can reblog this post and say "I was SO WRONG" gleefully

#watcher #buzzfeed worth it #steven lim #andrew ilnyckyj

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sterekchub · 8 months

Note

Wonder what Stiles would think the next day, waking up and finding that his previously rapid gains seemed turgid compared to what he managed to pack on from the last feast. Impressive moobs pressing against his fat double chin as he opens his eyes, gut so big and round and heavy and in the way that even sitting up is exhausting, flanks so full of thick rolls that he struggles with reaching the mattress with his hands. And yet his gut and dick would demand more even if his brain pleads for mercy

He lasts….maybe two days. At most. He’s waddling around out of breath doing laundry, in the kitchen making himself a stack of 4 sandwiches and glaring at the glass of water he has….it barely fills him up. He imagines what the wolves would feed him. Full blocks of cheese melted over half a dozen loaves of bread, a small mountain of bacon. Not a glass of water in sight…it’s only beer or shakes or soda for their growing pig.

All he thinks about is being fed and fucked. The constant cycle of his head to filled with food and pleasure, going absolutely dumb and giving in to the pleasurable haze…that he can’t focus on anything else.

He has to keep reminding himself he’s too close to going over the edge. He’s struggling into the bathroom, nearly falls over bending down to tie his shoes because he just can’t see his feet with so much blubber around his middle and chest.

Lasts until the need to jerk off is just too strong and he’s tried and made himself a sweaty mess trying but just CANT. And of course the wolves (who have absolutely been stalking the house getting off to watching Stiles wobbling around) immediately are crawling into his window.

“Need help?”

“Please,” Stiles pleads with a groan. “I’m so close but I can’t….”

“Hmmm but you can’t possible come on an empty belly, Stiles….”

His eyes go wide and a little panicked. “No, I…I just ate!”

“You call that sad meal eating? Come on, let us feed you. Let us fill you up the way you need…”

Stiles is caving, he KNOWS he’s caving bc damn it he just wants someone wrapped around his dick or buried in his ass… but he feels like he has to make the plea of, “I shouldn’t…I’m too fat.”

“Not to us.”

“We have your favorite,” Scott tells him cheerfully, holding up at least eight grease stained brown bags, “cheese and bacon loaded curly fries!”

Despite what his mind is screaming at him….Stiles belly growls and the wolves all close in.

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stdomek · 6 months

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My father was reborn through me.

My birthday. April 3rd.

His birthday. December 24th.

Before I was born he got a job as a correctional officer. When I hit puberty, he made our home his work. He died when he got that job. I was born shortly after, after multiple miscarriages he finally had his own baby. His own he could raise to understand him like no one else does. He made sure I knew how to draw before I knew how to write.

We have the same notch missing out of our ear. The same mole on our neck. The same head injuries. The same disorders. He picks up a drink and I put mine down. He picks up a pencil and I put mine down. We watch the same movies, we say the same lines, we do the same dance. When my teeth began to fall out, he assured me it was okay. It happened when he was twenty too.

He wanted me to have all the things he couldn't. A mother. A father. A cushy life. A life without lashings, thats the life he imagined for a daughter. But he didn't want a daughter.

He wanted a boy, he didn't want to have to provide the life you give a daughter. He wanted a friend, not a child. He wanted someone who understood art theory and how painful it is to have that dream ripped from your barely grown hands. He wanted a boy he could blow up action figures with, like his brothers did to his toys. He wanted a lightning rod for his godlike anger, like he was with his father. He wanted tonka trucks and black eyes and split lips from rough housing. He wanted to be reborn. He expected to be reborn. Who else would spend their nights getting drunk and bonding about their fathers giving them bruises until the sun came up other than his own flesh and blood?

Beggers can't be choosers.

What is a daughter but a temptation? What is a daughter but a future mother? What purpose can a daughter bring to a correctional officer if she doesn't carry his title? How can he be reborn through a woman? If he is she and she is him, wouldn't that deep down mean that he is a temptation? That every pink streak, every little pony, every bra strap and boyfriend is actually his?

I carry his pain with me because he made it mine. He locked me in a cave with a boulder infront and told me if I ever wanted to be loved I'd push it out of the way. He would have let me starve in there. He would've let me die. He was so certain that once he was reborn, once that boulder was moved, he would see his perfect reflection. With beautiful blonde hair and perfect teeth, I(he) would smell like myrrh and frankincense instead of iron and alcohol. I(he) would have the skills of leonardo. He(I) would raise the two other little girls to be perfect brides. He would be happy. He would be healthy. He would be jesus the way he should've been.

But I am not a catholic. And this is not a bible story. When I carved my way out of stone, I came out broken and jagged and hungry. My eyes had adapt to the dark unlike his. I was accutely aware that I was his perfect reflection. Violent and poisonous like alcohol. I gathered his women, the ones he made brides, and unclothed their jagged broken parts shattered by him and put them on display.

Together, hand in hand, we ate his flesh like wolves.

#poetry

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myhauntedsalem · 9 months

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Are Werewolfs Real?

During middle ages, especially from 15th to 17th century, Europe was under the dark shadow of ignorance and superstitions. Towns were underdeveloped and people lived near woods. The fear of wolves was like a nightmare. Their attacks were so frequent and atrocious in nature that people even feared to travel from one place to another. Every morning, countryside people would find half-eaten human limbs scattered on their fields.

The first recorded Werewolf sighting took place around the countryside of German town Colongne and Bedburg in 1591. An age-old pamphlet describes those shivering moments vividly. Few people cornered a large wolf and set their dogs upon it. They started to pierce it with sharp sticks and spears. Surprisingly the ferocious wolf did not run away or tried to protect itself, rather it stood up and turned out to be a middle-aged man he was Peter Stubbe from the same village.

Stubbe was put on a torture wheel where he confessed sixteen murders including two pregnant women and thirteen children. The history behind his downfall was rather bizarre. He had started to practice sorcery when he was only 12 and was so obsessed with it that even tried to make a pact with the Devil. Wearing a magic girdle he started to attack his enemies, real or imaginary. After several months, he would take the guise of a wolf and continued with his evil acts with more brutality. In the wolf form he used to tear up victims’ throats and suck warm blood from veins. Gradually his thirst for blood grew and he roamed around fields in search of prey.

The savagery of his crimes was beyond imagination. The trial record motioned few of them. Once two men and a woman were walking along a road that went through the forest Stubbe used to hide in. He called one of them into the forest. When the man did not return for a long time the second one followed his trail and also disappeared into the forest. When both the man didn’t return for a long time the woman ran for her life. Later, two mangled male corpses were recovered from the forest, but the woman’s body never reappeared. It was believed that Stubbe had devoured it all. Young girls playing together or milking the cows in the fields were his frequent victims. He used to chase them like a hound, catch the slowest one, rape and kill her. Then he would drink hot blood and eat tender flesh from her body. However; the most gruesome sin he committed was upon his own son. He took him to a nearby forest, cracked the poor child’s skull open and ate brain from it.

No punishment could match the magnitude of Stubbe’s crime. His flesh was pulled off with red-hot pincer, his arms and legs were broken and he was finally decapitated. His carcass was burned to ashes.

The Magistrate of Bedburg built a grim monument remembering the ghastly incident. Workmen put the torture wheel atop a tall pole with Stubbe’s head above it structured with the likeliness of a wolf. Sixteen pieces of yard long wood cuts were hung from the rim of the wheel commemorating poor souls of the victims. The words of Stubbe’s trial and execution spread across the lands in no time. His brutality, atrocity and savagery were beyond human comprehension and was readily related with the behavior of a wolf. People started to believe that such individuals with the shadow of wolves were living among them. They named them Werewolves.

#Are Werewolfs Real?#werewolves #paranormal #supernatural #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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dyrewrites · 3 months

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Pale Blood -- fang vs a pack of wolves

“That’s, that’s insane,” Den had heard all Nash could remember—all he had heard as he hid in his room from the ‘party’ their mother threw—and he hated every bit of it. But in the tale had been a name, and he latched onto that, as a buoy in the sea of nonsense he clawed at it, “you say Nora was there?”

“Yeah,” Nash bounced on the couch cushion, again—taking more delight in the comfort of it than the situation called for—but he answered, “She didn’t wanna eat it. If I could tell from two floors up, I’m sure mama could, but she did. Ate it all up just like everyone. And when she left, well, you know how she’s like in heat?”

Den gagged and shoved him into the arm of the couch, “Why would you put that in my head?”

“‘Cuz it’s what happened,” Nash shoved back, “and it’s relevant. It fucked em up.” His face scrunched, souring as he explained, “And not all of em waited till they left.”

“What do you mean,” Den asked, but imagination filled in the rest and he gagged again before changing the subject with a shouted, “Hey, Del, who we meeting up top again?”

“A wolf and a mer,” Delmas said, but he did not walk into the living room alone, or first.

He was guided by a proud and strutting Minara who announced, “Den, look, I made your boyfriend pretty!” before falling to giggles.

All of his short, shaggy, mouse-brown hair was gathered into numerous tight braids, which dangled around his face like strings of beads and wiggled as he walked.

Den and Nash sputtered, nearly in sync, before their throaty laughter filled the living room and burnt up as red splotches on Delmas’ cheeks.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” He dared, “I’m adorable.”

“Give us a twirl,” Nash teased.

And Den folded with greater laughter as Delmas stiffened his lip and obliged, raising his arms and turning slowly around to show that the braids continued all the way around.

“Where did you find so many hair-ties?” Den asked his sister, though his eyes stayed on Delmas’ hair, drawing him off the couch and over to touch.

“He’s got a whole box,” She tittered, running to Nash as he patted the emptied spot beside him.

“Got anymore?” Nash asked her, indicating the loose mess of hair down his back and smiling as she lit up—brush still in hand, wrists covered in ties.

“Used to keep it long,” Delmas explained, smiling as Den played with his hair, before glowering at Nash, “but someone started playin’ dirty.”

Nash moved the table, and was just sitting down on the floor in front of an overly bouncy Minara, when he shrugged and said, “Got no regrets.” Shooting Delmas a wink, he added, “Short hair suits ya.”

Delmas’ scoff amused no one and he changed the subject, “Wolf and a mer,” he repeated to Den, “that’s who we’re seein’ up top, then the other mer with the weird blood. Why d’ya ask?”

“Oh, Nash said our sister was at the party and,” he answered, but he didn’t stop bouncing the short braids, “She’s the only one of us up top so, I thought.” Delmas snatched his hand as he made to bounce another braid off it and Den smiled, “I thought it might be Nora.”

“Auntie Ala!” Minara chirped, but Nash yanked his head forward, jerking her hands with it, and her giddy tone fell, “I, I mean Nora.”

“Auntie,” Delmas asked, pulling away as Den made again for the braids, “I thought you said ‘sister’?”

“It’s both,” Den said simply, too simply, and Delmas tilted his head for more, but Den only teased, “I thought you knew wolves?”

The red splotches returned and Delmas looked away, “I never, well, I mean,” his eyes flitted to Minara.

Den grinned. “Oh,” he cooed, “you’ve never been with one long enough for conversation, have you?”

Delmas did not answer, but he had no need, his pinched lips and wandering eyes said enough.

Nash laughed, short and mean, “fuckin’ knew it.”

“Nashy! Language,” Minara snapped, yanking his hair.

He huffed but, in a small voice, said, “Sorry.”

“That’s right,” She puffed, sitting taller as she returned to braiding.

“So, you just like to play with us then,” Den said and, standing on the tips of his toes, added for Delmas alone, “am I just a toy to you?”

Delmas did not speak, even as that voice tickled his ear and followed down his side. He was not unaccustomed to shame, but with a child in the room he couldn’t address it in the manner he preferred, and so he burnt up in it instead.

But, luckily—for him—he didn’t need to.

As his netlink rang, loud and shrill, and every wolf in the room covered their ears and groaned until he answered it.

“Whoever you are, I owe you,” He said after.

“Um, thanks, I guess?” A raspy female voice said back, “This is Del, right, I have the right link? Ron put it in here under a weird name,” she muttered the next bit, but it got a smile out of Delmas, “and he’s going to hear about it next time he makes fun of my music.”

“Yeah, that’s me, and you are?” He knew the voice, but the name escaped him, wriggled from him in fact.

“Odea,” Den told him as he noticed the voice, soft as it was through the link, “it’s the witch, the one we’re supposed to meet...remember?”

“He’s right,” Odea said, “I’m guessing you forgot me too. If it weren’t for Fran here I’d never have remembered you.”

It flooded then, all of it, every moment Delmas had spent around the witch at the bloodbank, and the swirling gold she had found in Savor’s blood, and in her own—and how his shimmered too. He didn’t speak what flooded next, all the memories that throbbed behind the name that swelled too quickly to replace the witch’s.

But Odea heard it anyway, as all that filled him flowed into her. “You dated Savor?” she screamed.

“Witches,” Delmas muttered, grateful as Den shrank from the scream—and more so when he didn’t acknowledge the words spoken through it. With an apologetic nod to the recovering wolf, and a wary look to Min, Delmas ducked into the hall and further into the apartment, all the way into his bedroom, before he answered the witch, “Yes, I did, years ago. It ain’t a problem now.”

Odea did not agree, “It will be when we meet him.”

“No, it won’t,” he assured as he tapped the screen to close his door, lowering his voice ever further, “I’m sure he’s too busy to worry ‘bout me and you’ll be doin’ all the talkin’ anyway.”

“Like fuck I will,” She clipped, “it’s his blood we were testing, which means he’s the creep came looking around the bloodbank for a fang to fuck. And guess who he was real particular about getting?”

He scoffed, “It’s been years, that can’t be what that was.”

“Ron says I broke the windows screaming him off,” She sneered, pressing memories into him neither were prepared for. After a breath, and a groan, she continued, “It was something and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

“Fine,” he sneered, stewing, “there a point to this call?”

“Thirteenth blink,” Odea said, slowly, her voice cold, “at the skycab station. We’ll be taking a detour to help a cursed wolf. Be there on time or I will go talk to Savor without you and solve both our problems.”

“Ron already told me all that,” He matched her tone, “but I would pay to see you try and get in to see him on your own.”

“Thirteenth blink, Del,” She clipped again.

“I heard you, Odea,” he clipped back.

She sighed and waited, neither of them ending the connection, and that connection fed her far more than it fed him. It sang in anxious gasps of all the worries he refused to acknowledge, the rusting memories he held and the shining ones he feared would crack. And as they threatened to drag her into their shaking cage, she voiced what he could not, “You should tell him.”

Huffing, Delmas stared at his door, narrowing his eyes at the voice in his ear, “I don’t think you know me well enough to be makin’ no,”

“You have a scar on your left asscheek, in a rather salacious shape; want me to tell you where you got it?” Her tone was even, matter-of-fact, and it dropped Delmas to his bed—in spite of the gentle laughter that burst behind her.

“Fair ‘nuff,” He said, but his thoughts added, fuckin’ witches.

“Yeah, fucking witches,” She snapped, “same as fucking fangs; I can’t hide anything when you’re around me. Not so fun when it’s turned back on ya, is it? Den deserves to know and don’t even try to argue with me, I can feel it. How you feel for him, how you feel when you’re around him, the stuff you haven’t even admitted to yourself. You’re wide open to me. So you’d better fucking tell him.”

“Yep,” Delmas blurted, raising his voice as the door to his bedroom slid open to reveal Den standing with his head tilted and eyes narrowed, “He’s right here, yeah, I’ll tell him. Thirteenth blink, skycab, got it, we’ll see ya there.”

“Godsdamnit, you stubborn fu—”

Delmas cut the call, wincing at the residual volume of the last word.

“Nash and Min want to stay here...just until we figure out what’s wrong with the others,” Den said, not entering the room, “if that’s alright with you?”

Delmas considered objecting, considered telling him that he had no desire to leave two snoops alone in his apartment...but Odea’s voice echoed in his skull.

I can’t, he told it, it’s too much and we just started. I’ve moved on, stands to reason Sech has too. Maybe he was lookin’ for his shit ‘stead a me. The bottom drawer of his dresser glared up at him then, chased by the memory of kicking it, of preventing his new love from touching his old.

And he didn’t say what he should have, “Yeah, they’re welcome long as they need.”

“Uh-huh,” Den sighed before yelling into the living room, “He said yes!”

Delmas tried not to wince at the glee that—quite literally—howled down his hallway, but he failed. “Stay out of my room!” He shouted at it.

“Make me!” Nash shouted back, followed by the sudden cacophony of music as he and Min argued over what to play—Min won and would be singing shortly, to the detriment of everyone with ears.

“That one really nests when he feels safe, don’t he?” Delmas asked Den, trying for a smile.

He didn’t get it.

“We should probably get going,” Den said, tone remarkably even, more so than was comfortable to the ears it spoke to.

Delmas nodded and followed the disquieting chill of Den’s silence down the hall. But the silence didn’t last. Nostalgia was moaning in the living room.

Minara stood on the coffee table, singing along while Nash curled on the couch whimpering dramatically.

And Delmas couldn’t hold that song with that call in the same head just then, so he shut the music off. “Those songs are catchy, ain’t they?” he asked Minara, ignoring her knowing smirk, “but how's about we find somethin’ with a little less moanin’?”

“‘A little less moanin’?” Den broke in.

Delmas smiled, “Don't you think she's heard enough?”

The rolled eyes stung as he shot back, “I think she'd be picking on us if she'd heard any of that and I don't think that's why you said it.”

“Lover's quarrel already,” Nash perked, unfurling from the couch, “Movin’ a little fast there ain't ya?”

Den shot a glare so cold Nash shivered, “You got somewhere else you can flap those gums?”

Nash had no voice for response as Minara made the room screech. “Fixed it!” She popped, followed by, “no, no, wait.” Delmas shook his head and went to assist, greeted by an immediate, “She’s right.”

Adjusting the volume settings, Delmas managed to turn the screech into a low-pulsing drone—which was no less annoying—before he asked, “Who?”

Minara looked up to flare her bright yellow eyes, “Den won’t be mad. He jus’ don’ like secrets. So tell him.”

“Everyone hearin’ all my everythin’ today?” Delmas asked, any further whining lost to another squeal of feedback reverberating along the walls.

As it faded, Den called to him, “We’re leaving!” and locked a glare on Nash, “go help Min, and try to keep the place in one piece till we get back.”

Overrun by the need to needle, Nash asked, “Where you two goin’?”

Mirthless and sharper than any needle, Den smiled, “What, those ears just pick up what should be private?”

Waving his arms, Nash got off the couch, “Alright, alright. Shit,” he placated as he headed for the screen his sister stood at—ignoring the shrug Delmas offered as he passed, “Min, big brother's pickin’ on me.”

Without turning from her task, Minara clipped, “Maybe you need’a learn to watch your mouth.”

“Did I miss an alert or somethin’,” Nash asked, throwing his arms up, “when’d I become the punchin’ bag?”

Den was halfway down the hall when Delmas left the apartment, prickling in his worry. A worry that bled to panic as Minara found what he’d forgotten and a song unknown by even Savor’s most die-hard fans flooded the hall. Memories fought for purchase, painted by the warmth of a voice that moaned for him alone. But the colors were all wrong. And Den’s stiff back stripped the bright off every note.

#writeblr #snippet #novel #writing #pale blood #urban fantasy #nonhuman #sharing this one because i like it #that's my whole reason

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crowpricorn · 10 months

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44 for wolfbastard!!!

questions

44: out of lust

the things you do for the person you love... surprise silly ironic whatever-this-is for you baby!! 😅

Matthias' first thought is a very clear and loud "What in the name of Djel." And how could it not be, when he just dreamt that? He looks horrified at his peaceful, sleeping girlfriend. His beautiful girlfriend with her naked skin splattered in freckles and her cheeks rosy with the warmth of summer mornings.

Nina is sound asleep still — she usually sleeps in late — and most of all she is safely unaware of Matthias' fucked up dream.

It was a dream, just a dream, he scolds himself, but he feels his cheeks heat up all the same. The thing is, it is just a dream — he has no feeling whatsoever for the person that occupied his sleeping moments — but he still feels deadly ashamed.

It was a wet dream, that is.

He is a whole adult, fiancé to the most gorgeous woman alive, and he just had a fucking wet dream about… Well, about the least person he could have ever imagined to have such a dream about.

The dream blurs and fades in the back of his mind the more he wakes from it, but some bits of it are still clear as water in his mind: being shoved against a wall by a (way smaller) lithe body, a demjin crowding him like a predator and… And kissing him.

Matthias just dreamt about Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel — the demjin, that is — kissing him six ways to Sunday like it was the only thing he wished to be doing. Matthias knows it's just a dream — but his dreams are usually crowded with Nina, still in the shape of a witch in some, but mostly he has very good, generous dreams about her. His nightmares evoke white wolves calling for him and a young boy shooting him — missing vital points just by an inch, for the relief of a sobbing Nina.

Ever since he is allowed to live free of all his ghosts — to live like a person rather than a soldier, rather than a criminal — he has mostly dreamt peaceful dreams though.

Until tonight.

Perhaps it's because they are visiting Ketterdam in less than a week to marry there with all their friends present, after so many years of having settled in the Southern Colonies. Perhaps he got scared, and it brought back some traumas and unwanted memories. Perhaps he ate too much the previous evening — Nina says that a heavy stomach brings on heavy thoughts in the night.

The dream had begun as a nightmare — he was running on thin ice and he felt stuck in place as the drüskelle approached him, like hunters circling their prey. He hadn't even had time to hear the shot, that his chest had been pierced through and the ice had cracked open on an endless pit.

At the end of the pit, Matthias had found himself back in Ketterdam, in the room where he had first met the rest of what now are his best friends, and at the time had been people he was ready to kill to have his grace back. How naive and stupid he had been. How grateful he is for what an impossible heist against his whole country had brought to him.

But the dream was not kind and melancholic of the good, old times. There had been Kaz, furious and threatening like he had appeared to Matthias the first times — and then there had been Kaz kissing him. It had been a heated, biting kiss, all teeth and tongues and bodies pressed close, until it had built and built and Matthias had moaned for Djel and… And then he woke up.

He woke up breathing heavily in his bed, that's where he is now, ashamed and confused and startled. Nina stirs besides him, a smile stretching on her lips when she throws an arm over and feels that Matthias is still in bed.

"M'ning," she mumbles, opening a deep, green eye just a bit, snuggling closer to him.

He considers not telling her. What if she thinks of him as a dirty, fucked up cheater? What if she leaves him and tells him to go and kiss Brekker, for all she cares? But he knows that's not Nina. He knows she knows him — deeply, lovingly, adoringly — and that he is safe telling her about his… His lustful dreamt kiss about Kaz Brekker of all people, apparently.

"You won't believe what I dreamt," he says.

Her eyes snap open. "Really?" she asks. "Because I dreamt I fucked a cake. Don't ask about the logistics, it's all a blur," she says, and now she is folding over and laughing. Matthias finds it easy to laugh alongside her, and then to tell her about the weirdest dream in his history of dreams and watch in awe as she snorts in her laughter, holding her stomach up and then flomping back against their pillows. "You'll have to kiss me to heal from the traumatic experience of kissing Dirtyhands," she coos, and Matthias is more than happy to oblige.

#sunfl8wer #kiss ask game #ask game #six of crows #helnik #wolfbastard #apparently #matthias helvar #nina zenik #kaz brekker #i am as horrified as matthias

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