#dogs don't howl with wolves

[snowbuii]

Drew my boi hoshi :3

The Mountain Bernese doggo

[satans-knitwear]

No one ever tells u how hard gaming can be...

Or how outrageously illegal it obviously is, when u have puppies that need petting instead. I have been so informed.

[sacrosanction]

some pictures from my hike today. u can spot my dog in some of these.

[bearotonin-international]

yes you are right

floof & wolf

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Prompt: Werewolf | Word Count: 5533 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: Minor Injury, A Sprinkle of Good Boy Kink | Tags: Canon Divergence, S3 Happened, But No S4 Events, Different Meeting After High School, Werewolf Steve, Animal Lover Eddie, A Touch of Hurt/Comfort, But Mostly Fluff

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo. 

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two. 

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way. 

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new. 

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding. 

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down." 

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself. 

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur. 

He'd like to pet him. 

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it. 

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes. 

They almost glow out here in the moonlight. 

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign. 

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now? 

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled. 

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog? 

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous." 

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight. 

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure. 

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf. 

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal. 

"Can I pet you?" 

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly. 

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair. 

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep. 

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf. 

Hot damn. 

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him. 

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf. 

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion. 

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go. 

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls. 

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes. 

And then it looks sad. Goddammit. 

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him? 

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time. 

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur. 

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further. 

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer. 

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is. 

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake. 

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees. 

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?" 

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong. 

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive." 

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub. 

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1." 

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster. 

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused. 

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket. 

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure. 

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you." 

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg. 

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen. 

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him. 

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. 

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows. 

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson." 

"All the lap sitting says otherwise." 

"I've never sat on your lap!" 

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information." 

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key. 

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him. 

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down. 

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet." 

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt. 

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry." 

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient. 

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious. 

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow. 

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead. 

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed. 

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes. 

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all. 

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was. 

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves." 

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods. 

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest. 

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf. 

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines. 

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises. 

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie. 

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?" 

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this. 

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would. 

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out. 

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm. 

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions. 

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future. 

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next. 

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position. 

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life. 

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

[werecreature-addicted]

No because . imagine a moment with werewolf partner where they're just delighted to be around you while you're singing , and you laugh and say you're bad at it, but they don't care because all they hear is their mate and pack member howling with them,, sobbing sliding down a wall

Oh baby howling at the moon time!!!

For one, no I don't think howling at the moon would be taboo or cultural appropriation. As long as you're howling with a wolf/ wolf pack of course. To me, packs have a big found family vibe to them and have less to do with being a werewolf and more to do with loving the other members of the packs. Vampires, Humans, Dogs, all pack members.

That being said, some people definitely do mock werewolves with howling at the moon and dismissing the howl as a way to make noise, werewolves might also be stereotyped as loud and obnoxious. I can imagine a werewolf being sensitive if their human partner howls without being invited to first, they might assume they're teasing something that's genuinely important to them. but typically, as long as you're invited first it's okay to do so.

I think a werewolf would love to howl all night with their partner as a sort of way to celebrate the full moon. they try to be a little quiet, only so they can hear you yip and yell better, they think your voice is so pretty and they want to hear you.

Imagine big bonfire parties with the whole pack with a big potluck dinner and lots of singing around the fire and howling to celebrate the full moon. Howling is a way to sort of way to call out for other wolves and other members of the pack, to howl together is a way to signal community and family and a way to show love to the people you're with. a chorus of out of key, loud, voices singing together.

Imagine a werewolf coming home and not knowing where they're lover is so they howl and wait to hear a howl back and track them down in a game of werewolf marco-polo. I also like to think that, like dogs, if a wolf hears howling, or something close, they cannot help but join in and end up barking along to some songs, they really can't help it.

[bonefall]

Do you know what the other animals that were trapped in cages are? I think there's a zebra, gray wolf and honey badger but I'm not sure

I caught five unique animals in the passage, lemmie share all of my guesses;

Easy; giraffe! Though I wouldn't really describe them as "yellow," WC has a habit of "cartoonifying" certain popular animals so this is definitely a giraffe (such as the tongue-slinging frogs in ShadowClan, real frogs do not have chameleon tongues)

The next one, the zebra, is also pretty apparent;

For those who didn't know, zebras are smaller than domestic horses! That's correct!

The one that stumps me the most is definitely this "weaselbadger" animal, but I'm fairly certain it's a honey badger yeah.

As opposed to a European badger like the cats are used to, a honey badger would look a lot thinner and more "weasel-like." They also have a solid white stripe that separates their black bottoms from their ticked top-fur, and I can't think of any other animal that has a separated fur color in that way.

There's also a very large snake of some kind, "coiled" around a branch. So, something arboreal.

While it's definitely a constricting snake, there isn't enough description about its color or behavior to tell if it's a boa or a python, nor what species it is. Since the largest reptile Ivypool naturally encounters would be adders, I also can't say if the "snake bigger than she could ever imagine" is actually that big.

If I'm making a shot in the dark though, the "small eyes" would make me guess it's a particularly old reticulated python. They're also common pet snakes, so it wouldn't be out of place at a skeevy ""Animal Sanctuary"" like this book is portraying.

(SIDE NOTE; I am satisfied with the portrayal of this particular zoo, which is clearly in someone's backyard and made from ramshackle planks and chainlink. I stand firmly against broad, untargeted "zoo slander" but I think the team did a good job in portraying this place as some crank's private collection.)

This next one, the "furry dog," is described with shaggy fur around its neck and shoulders, and then explicitly called gray when it attacks the human. Simple; that is a gray wolf.

While it's definitely a wolf, I'd need to see them describe the howl to tell you if it's Eurasian or American. American wolves lean harder on the first syllable and the call is more "shouty", while Eurasian wolves have a longer, more "melodious" songlike howl.

As for the "mane," that's a trait wolves can have. Some have larger neck ruffs than others-- usually influenced by climate. I don't know enough about wolves to tell you if that's purely genetic, or if it's influenced by the fact this individual lives in a place where it needs to develop a particularly thick winter coat.

(Also, funfact; the extinct British wolf was actually one of the largest gray wolf subspecies ever known. RIP British wolves)

And, lastly, of course, is the Scottish Wildcat.

Exactly as the book goes on to describe, they have blunt, bushy tails, green eyes, and tabby coats. They look like very large domestic cats!

[vickyvicarious]

I think this is something that I might have to chalk up to Doylist reasoning that there's symbology there and we should just take his word for it because Stoker wants us to believe there are wolves at these moments. I say this because... apparently dog howling and wolf howling doesn't sound massively different and it can be hard to tell which one you're hearing if you're not familiar? Or at least that seems to be the case based on the few articles I have looked up just now. (I thought it was more distinct but apparently I was thinking of coyotes vs wolves, and I haven't been able to find a clear comparison video of the sounds side by side). Otherwise, I'd have said that Jonathan recognizes the difference in sound to the dog howling he has heard before/even earlier on this trip.

I suppose he could also just be assuming based on location as well (knowing howls in the woods are likely wolves, from town likely dogs). But that wouldn't fully explain every instance of him seeming sure it's a dog vs. a wolf. For example, it works to an extent on 5 May but perhaps not fully, and 24 June especially how does he know it's not distant wolves in the forest instead of distant dogs in the town, you know?

I definitely agree that Jonathan has probably never heard a wolf before this, but I don't personally take that as reason to doubt him when he says a sound is a wolf, or a dog. The symbolism and spookiness factor just works too well as written for me (plus, when Jonathan says it's a wolf we often see a wolf then show up as if to confirm he knows the sound).

I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty.

3 May

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road—a long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance, from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and a sharper howling—that of wolves—which affected both the horses and myself in the same way—for I was minded to jump from the calèche and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use all his great strength to keep them from bolting. ... The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from every side.

5 May

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight.

24 June

A good deal of interest was abroad concerning the dog which landed when the ship struck, and more than a few of the members of the S. P. C. A., which is very strong in Whitby, have tried to befriend the animal. To the general disappointment, however, it was not to be found; it seems to have disappeared entirely from the town. It may be that it was frightened and made its way on to the moors, where it is still hiding in terror. There are some who look with dread on such a possibility, lest later on it should in itself become a danger, for it is evidently a fierce brute. Early this morning a large dog, a half-bred mastiff belonging to a coal merchant close to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead in the roadway opposite to its master's yard. It had been fighting, and manifestly had had a savage opponent, for its throat was torn away, and its belly was slit open as if with a savage claw.

9 August

As funny as the entire 'Whitby residents want to adopt Dracudog' bit is, there's a darker side to it as well. First of all, in the irony of their love being based on a complete misunderstanding of his true nature - down even to the basics. Dracula is almost certainly not transformed into a dog, but a wolf. However, there are no wild wolves in England, and so the locals don't recognize him. This sums up the entire reason he's come here, quite succinctly. Seen as dog (human), really a wolf (vampire). No wolves there (no vampires, no belief in/knowledge of them) and so they don't recognize him (can't defend against them). They want to adopt him - obviously, he has no interest in being adopted as a literal pet, but he does want to be 'adopted' in a more general sense by English society. He spent many long hours reading books and talking to Jonathan to ensure that he'd be able to fit in more easily; if Whitby is any indication, his plans seem to be paying off.

There's also something else going on with dog vs wolf here, though. I pulled a few quotes above about upset dogs. And that's because dogs aren't fooled like the people of Whitby. They seem to instinctively see through/oppose supernatural forces. While the howling on 3 May is from before Jonathan meets Dracula, it happens at the same time as he experiences a night full of 'queer dreams' and shortly after he has "[left] the West and [entered] the East" - in other words, after he has passed out of the modern natural world and entered the domain of older supernatural powers. It's a simplified and kind of racist idea, yes, but symbolically at least, this transition is something emphasized in the text. And the first night in that land, his rest is disturbed partially due to a symbol of civilization voicing its distress.

The dogs get increasingly clearer about this opposition to the supernatural and Dracula specifically. The howling on 5 May happens at midnight on St. George's day, a time when 'all the evil things in the world have full sway', on the night when Dracula collects his treasures from the ground where men have died. This also marks a transition point where Jonathan is fully under the Count's power, fully separated from civilization. And this is even embodied by the dogs' howls soon being drowned out by their wild/supernatural equivalent when the wolves howl louder and sharper. They end up surrounding Jonathan that night, while the dogs sound farther and farther away and eventually are heard no more. And another difference: the dogs howl in fear. The wolves howl "as though the moonlight had had some peculiar effect on them" - a reference to werewolves perhaps, but also, they do this while surrounding and menacing Jonathan and the horses, while hunting them.

The distant dog howling on 24 June marks the time when Dracula is kidnapping a child from the town. Their protest does some amount of good - it helps Jonathan to begin breaking free of the hypnotic trance the vampire ladies have him in - but it doesn't manage to save the child.

And finally, today's dog seems to have tried to defend its home, based on where its body was found. Who knows, maybe Dracula had a passing interest in killing someone there and it managed to dissuade him. More likely the dog just instinctively recognized him for the threat he is as he was passing by and attacked, leading him to kill it in order to be left alone. Perhaps the fact that the English dog is the only one which actually is shown to do more than cry out a fearful protest is representative of the English main characters being the humans who will eventually stand against Dracula rather than be so fully dominated by him. After all, they aren't surrounded by wolves here; it's just the one. But if so, the fact that the dog who tries him is brutally slain by Dracula cannot bode well either. After all, they have no experience with wolves here; they don't know how to fight them.

[qin-qin16]

[CW: mention of animal bodies, dead animals, cannibalism, fanon Killer Sans]

Alright! Since many people liked the idea of ​​Hyena coded Killer, I decided to bring some characteristics of these beautiful animals so you can see why so many people like to compare Killer with these creatures.

NOTE: I will comment on some of his canonical details, as well as characteristics that the fandom attributes to him, that is, we will have both fanon and canon Killer here!

First of all, what are hyenas? Hyenas are carnivorous animals from the family Hyaenidae (and during this research, I discovered that hyenas are more similar to felines than dogs, so no, they don't have much in common with dogs or wolves!) that inhabit the African continent and western Asia. They are nocturnal animals, but they can function well during the day as well, and they hunt and live in large groups.

After this brief synopsis, I will now report some characteristics of these curious animals that I, personally, find similar and related to Killer Sans!

Hyenas are very intelligent animals - even with the negative stereotypes surrounding them - and are considered one of the most successful animals in hunting! In addition, they have a very complex social relationship with each other, respecting hierarchies and the leader of their respective packs.

In this excerpt, I can already relate this intelligence to Killer, mainly because many people think that, in fact, he is just a charming, idiotic little guy - but, just like hyenas, he is extremely smart and cautious. About the hierarchy part, I have a divided opinion: in some arts of the creator of Killer, we can see him with Nightmare, but it's not like he respects Nightmare as a leader, but rather as if he fears him or has a certain dislike for him, but also has nowhere to go, so he prefers to stay under Nightmare's "care", acting with false respect so as not to be mistreated so much (?).

Hyenas are scavengers! They can eat animals that are still alive or recently killed, but they are best known for feeding on remains (even bones). And, as mentioned before, they are very successful in their hunts, but unfortunately, these kills are mostly stolen by lionesses - which forces them to keep the remains.

I've already discussed a few times the possibility that Killer has already submitted to cannibalism purely out of curiosity, so it wouldn't be surprising to see him hunting monsters just to devour them (humans too, since Howl brought up a headcanon (I don't know if it was really or if it's something canon) about how Killer doesn't see himself as either a monster or a human with the merging of Chara's soul with his). And I also think that Killer has already tested eating at various stages of body composition.

Due to the high levels of male hormones (such as testosterone), hyenas are also very aggressive animals, which results in many deaths of young hyenas among themselves.

Here I am already relating this characteristic more to the instability between the stages of Killer - like the apathetic change from the second stage to the third, which enters into a kind of aggressive frenzy. I believe that not only triggers in interactions or gestures (such as eating or sleeping), but also smells and Killer's own body are affected by this aggression.

One fact that characterized hyenas as intelligent animals is their complex sociability as a group!

Okay, here comes the fanon part: In many Bad Guy fanfics, headcanons and fanarts, Killer is always treated as the best in social interactions, or the one who breaks up fights and the one who tends to “respect” the certain hierarchy he has in the group. Like hyenas, he has an easier time interacting with others, whether to create emotional bonds or mediate conflicts.

A pack of hyenas can have up to 40 members!

So... Do you know how they like to put Killer in different groups? Well, there's the explanation! His place with the Bad Guys, his partnership with Epic Sanses (more because of Color), his rare appearance with the Star Sanses (more with Ink and Swap). As aggressive as Killer is, he also likes to live in large groups, so he needs to rotate between them to satisfy this social need of his.

Now, some ideas that were taken from the depths of my head and that I won't explain much about:

Many people write/draw Nightmare as a trans woman, so Hyena coded Killer would make much more sense, since in the hyena monarchy, the females lead the pack! And they mostly have more power and decision-making in the groups, in addition to being larger than the males.

The sound that the hyenas can reproduce seems to be a strange laugh. There's not much to comment on, except that I imagine that Killer laughs exactly like that.

Hyenas don't usually lick themselves for better hygiene. Yep. Stinky Killer confirmed!

Now here's a touch of mine: I can see Killer being quite aggressive with his displays of affection, biting, pushing and play fighting, as well as enjoying chasing his friends, pretending they are some kind of prey.

And that's it! I hope you enjoyed it! I accept constructive criticism and more ideas for this headcanon that so many were waiting for!

Tagging people who would like to see about Hyena coded Killer (I guess???)

@howlsofbloodhounds @what-have-i-unleashed @toffeebrew @twinribbonz

[maverick-werewolf]

Werewolf Fact #75 - Cynocephali (dog-headed men)

This month's folklore fact is a long-awaited one from over on the Patreon: the cynocephali or "dog-headed men."

Some depictions of cynocephali (the one above is from the Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493) are mistaken for werewolves fairly frequently; there are several differences of note, including but not limited to the fact that they are otherwise very, very human (normal hands and feet, no tail, etc) and that their ears are not always shaped like a wolf's/pointing directly upright. They often are, however, so don't take the ear shape as a surefire thing, either. When in doubt, make sure the depiction is actually meant to be showing a werewolf before using it for, I don't know, a royalty-free image in your werewolf publication (I've seen several). The cynocephali do not shapeshift, nor are they associated with wolves. They have nothing to do with werewolves. Yes, it was just a plot to make you click this link and read about cynocephali.

Cynocephali, or singular cynocephalus, is a term derived from the original Greek word "kynokephaloi," meaning "dog-headed." They have other names as well, which mean a range of things such as "dog-faced" and "half-dog." They were mentioned in assorted accounts and tales of travelers in Africa and India, appearing in sources as old as ancient Greece, and some similar beings can be found in other cultures, such as China. Likewise, depictions of and discussions of such beings continue into the Middle Ages. This same term was later used to refer to baboons, to which no-fun modern day scholars now attribute all cynocephali legends (although we do have at least one Ottoman depiction of a cynocephalus battling a monkey).

There are many quotes across various sources and time periods about these beings, including but not limited to this one from the fifth century BC Greek historian Herodotus, Histories 4. 191. 3 (trans. Godley) [source: Theoi]

"For the eastern region of Libya, which the Nomads inhabit, is low-lying and sandy as far as the Triton river; but the land west of this, where the farmers live, is exceedingly mountainous and wooded and full of wild beasts. In that country are the huge snakes and the lions, and the elephants and bears and asps, the horned asses, the Kunokephaloi (Cynocephali) (Dog-Headed) and the Headless Men that have their eyes in their chests, as the Libyans say, and the wild men and women, besides many other creatures not fabulous."

Some stories of the cynocephali are also frightfully specific as to how they live, rear livestock, grow fruit, weave baskets, wage war, and much more, even including details of their society, clothing, how long they live, etc. It's all quite interesting. If you'd like to read more specific quotations, you can find many on one of my favorite websites, Theoi.

Sources seem to dispute one another as to whether they bark, do not bark but only howl, only shriek, or whatever other sounds they may make, and there is also a range of descriptions including elements such as if they have beards and whether hair covers their bodies as well as the dog-head. Overall, probably the majority of sources say they wear the skins of animals as opposed to having fur, but there are those that also call them hairy all over.

Please note that I will not be covering/discussing any gods from ancient Egypt in this post, because despite what some modern day scholars like to discuss, I don't consider them "cynocephali." They were wolf-headed deities, not dog-headed (or even jackal-headed), and are overall only related to cynocephali legends by proxy and by modern scholars always putting everything into blasted categories for their next thesis. There were some dog-headed deities in ancient Egypt, and Anubis, Wepwawet, Duamutef, etc, were not among them, and even then, we can't really assert that the dog-headed deities among the ancient Egyptians are actually related to other legends and records of cynocephali.

With that out of the way, let's continue...

One of my personal favorite stories involving a dog-headed man is a version of the tale of Saint Christopher, though these depictions and this tale are not seen as canon by churches and has been proscribed in Eastern Orthodoxy (where such depictions were generally most common). Some of these depictions still survive, however. Some sources believe that Byzantine depictions of a dog-headed Christopher come from mistaking "Cananeus" (meaning "Canaanite") for "caninus," i.e. canine.

In the story about a dog-headed Saint Christopher, there lives Reprebrus (among other variations of his name; ultimately, they all essentially mean "reprobate"), who is captured by Romans in battle and made to serve among them. Reprebrus was said to be of "enormous size," with the head of a dog, said to be typical of his kind. He was later baptized and martyred. However, in another version (this one from Germany), Saint Christopher is depicted as a giant cynocephalus who ate human flesh and performed many atrocities. He meets the Christ child later and carries him across a river, as in tradition (the name Christopher means "bearer of Christ") and repents for his sinful behavior. He is baptized and becomes human, dedicating himself to serving Christianity and became a soldier saint.

There are far more fascinating details in the story than I relayed here in extreme simplicity, but that's a very simple view (the story is actually very specific about different regions and even the unit in which he served).

Other depictions of cynocephali exist in certain Christian traditions, with Ahrakas and Augani sometimes being depicted with dog heads in Coptic Christian tradition, in the life and legend of Saint Mercurius.

Bestiaries also got pretty wild with the creatures depicted therein, many of which were also mentioned in classical sources (such as the Herodotus quote earlier in this post). The image above is from between 1357 and 1371, in a work called The Voyage and Travels of Sir John Mandeville, or simply Mandeville's Travels, the memoirs of a man who traveled across the Middle East, India, and even as far as China. Medieval bestiaries also recorded all the same creatures shown here: a monopod or sciapod, a cyclops, a blemmy, and a cynocephalus, each different civilizations of beings said to dwell across the world (and often cited in multiple sources over considerable spans of time, which generally cite the same or similar regions for each civilization, which I've always found very interesting).

Mentions of the cynocephali span across centuries, such as in works by scribe Paul the Deacon, a Benedictine monk, and they are even mentioned in the Nowell Codex, a surviving Old English work containing Beowulf (as well as a work of the life of Saint Christopher and Wonders of the East, among others). They are also acknowledged in the works of multiple noteworthy explorers, including but not limited to Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus, Giovanni da Pian del Carpine, Ibn Battuta, and Piri Reis.

With that, I think that's a decent overview! Hope you enjoyed the post.

And stay tuned for news and updates on a major [werewolf/fantasy/adventure/horror/epic] book release later this year!

If you like my blog, be sure to follow me here and elsewhere for much more folklore and fiction, including books, especially on werewolves! You can also sign up for my free newsletter for monthly werewolf/vampire/folklore facts, a free story, book previews, and my other sundry projects and works, such as plushes.

Free Newsletter - maverickwerewolf.com (personal site + book shop + free fiction)  — Patreon — Wulfgard — Werewolf Fact Masterlist — X — Vampire Fact Masterlist — Amazon Author page

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

CH-19 : A Deer Vs Wolves

Masterlist

Summery :Where you get your ass saved from being almost killed.

*Some time after you left*

Alastor and Niffty was sitting outside the cabin, lazily enjoying each others company. Niffty had turned into a human and leaned against Alastor's body. Alastor, even though he hated dogs,he has learned to at least tolerate Niffty's presence. That doesn't mean he allowed her to stay close to him in her full dog form. That form irked him.

"Hey Alastor.." Niffty finally broke the silence. "Do you think you'll ever transform?"

'Of course I will. Why would you doubt that?'

"Because what if you don't like (Y/n) ever? You need to like her so you can be human again."

Alastor scoffed and looked away. ' Don't you worry your little head about it. I will find a way somehow. I am the radio demon after all.'

Niffty still wasn't convinced as she looked into the distance again. "You know, she's likes you a lot! We talk about you sometimes."

That got his attention. He turned his head towards Niffty again. 'What did you guys talk about? It better not be something to tarnish my reputation my dear!'

" That's girl's talk silly. I can't tell you that! " Niffty chuckled with both hands covering her mouth. Alastor rolled his eyes at such a display ."But I can tell that she really likes you."

'We know that already. That isn't something new. I'm used to ladies fawning over me.' Alastor thought back to his time as a human in the 19's. Indeed, despite his colour back then, women would throw themselves at him nonchalantly. It was both a blessing and a curse for him. Blessing since it helped his popularity grow, curse since he hated those type of contacts. This lowered a lot after he became an overlord. People were far to afraid to approach him then.

"Yes but she's different. She might like you but she'll never push herself onto you. You're rumoured to be asexual and she respects that."

'I'm a what now?'

"Asexual!" Niffty repeated herself. "Don't you know what it is?"

'I'm afraid not dear. Is it one of those modern slangs?'

"Of course not! Let me explain what it is then."

And thus Niffty spent almost an hour and a half explaining different types of sexualities to him, including asexuality. It took a lot of tries to get Alastor to properly understand the concept.

' So you mean to say, that it's normal to not want to engage in such activities? My, all this time I thought I just hadn't found the right girl for me to have those desires. Or worse, there was something wrong with me...' Alastor's smile faltered a bit. It was crazy how times had changed. Normally he didn't like such changes but this was one of the better ones.

'Of course, not that I mind about having something wrong within me. Haha! I am a serial killer after all.' His smile came back as quickly as it disappeared, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of someone. He supposed he could admire your respect about his boundaries too. Unlike those other girls in his past, you actually cared to make him comfortable, no matter how much you liked him. It made him feel a bit....warm inside.

He spent the next few hours just chatting with Niffty. As sun began to set, Vaggie came over to the pair.

"Hey, (Y/n) hasn't returned yet. It's already getting late. She said she'd be back before sunset. Have any of you guys seen her?"

Niffty and Alastor looked at each other and shook their head. "No...we haven't. We've just been chatting here all afternoon." Vaggie sighed, worry immenent in her face. "I see... sorry for bothering you then."

As Vaggie went back to the cabin, she couldn't help but think about what might have happened to you. You were an adult human. You could handle a night out yourself. Still worries begun to rush in one after another.

"Alastor...you don't think something happened to her do you?" Before Alastor could reply, a howl broke through the night. Both Niffty and Alastor's ears perked up. A blue light caught in the corner of their eyes. Whipping their head towards it, they strangely found a bright blue butterfly that was seemingly glowing in the dark.

Just like you before, they couldn't help but follow it. It felt like it was the right course of action. Though they couldn't tell why. They began to chase after the butterfly at full speed as it was rushing through the forest. Niffty had already transformed into her dog form to run faster.

Soon Niffty picked up scent of something. It was blood. There a familiar scent with it. Your scent.

Niffty's eyes widened with the realization as she shouted at Alastor to let him know. Soon enough, they were able to hear faint growls, snarls from distant. What really made their heart almost stop was the low moaning of you.

.

.

.

.

.

You tried. You really tried to hold on by yourself as long as you could while trying to find find a way to escape. You picked up a nearby branch you found to defend against this horde of wolf that were dead set on eating you.

But there were only much you can do. After some time, you were bleeding all over, barely standing. A wolf's claw teared a big slash on your back. Another one almost teared your leg off before you gave it a good punch. There were small scratchs and bite marks all over. The blood coming out from all over your body was starting to harden on your clothes.

It was hurting to stand already as your body reached it's limit. You collapsed on your knees as the bloody branch you were holding fell down with a thud. You couldn't do this, not anymore. It all hurt too much. You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you thought of your inevitable death. Would there even be anything left of your body after these wolves finished eating you? How much would it...hurt?

A wolf jumped on you, teeths bared to finally consume your sweet flesh. It's teeth were only a few inches above your face as you closed you eyes. Suddenly something small but fierce jumped onto its neck from a side and bit onto it, pushing it to the ground. A sickening crunch followed soon after.

You opened your eyes warrily a little. Your vision was still blurry so you couldn't see clearly. Judging by the sound of the small thing...it was probably a dog. It looked back at you and transformed.

"(Y/n)!.......okay?? We'll...out..here.."

You couldn't hear her words clearly. You saw a big black figure rush through and stand in front of you protectively while facing the wolfs. Did they come to protect you? If so, you could rest a little right? You finally collapsed and shut your eyes.

Your head fell down on Niffty's lap as she shook you to keep you awake. 'Niffty my dear! Focus on protecting (Y/n) and getting her back to the cabin. I'll deal with the wolves!'

Alastor shouted out while looking forward at the canines. It was clear the wolves remembered him just as he did, increasing their anger tenfold. His consciousness was shouting at him to run. He doesn't need to do this. You weren't worth risking his life for. But against his better judgement he was still standing here, between you and these vicious animals.

One of the wolfs lunged forward as he quickly moved out of the way and pierced it with his antlers. But another one quickly followed and bit behind him. He kicked it off him as fresh trail of blood flew from his body.

"Alastor! Her conditions getting worse!" Niffty said screaming. "She'll die if we don't do something about it!"

Alastor knew that already. Niffty didn't have to spell it out for him to know how dire your situation is. He only gritted his teeth. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't think of a way out. It seemed like you understood that as well.

"L..eave..me..go.."

You choked out with the last of your breath before blacking out. Alastor pulled his ears back. You remained ever the good girl till your last drop of consciousness. Always sacrificing yourself for others sake. How admiring....

It's not like that thought didn't cross his mind. Leaving you here should be the wise course of action here. Yet why did did he feel so....bad? Is it because he lived with you all this time? Or when he saw how careful you are with touching him when you were stitching? Or the things Niffty told him about you this afternoon? He wasn't sure. He knew if he returned without you, everyone would shun him out.

"Haha...." He chuckled bitterly at himself. Perhaps you have began to make an effect on him. Whatever happens, he decided,

He was going to stay by your side.

Golden light shone brightly along his body, blinding the wolves that were about to approach him. Alastor looked at his hands. "Finally... about time..."

Suddenly a familiar blue light shone in the corner of Niffty's eyes. Turning her head towards it she saw the butterfly again. It was sitting on top of a carcass. Wait no, it was sitting on top of a handle. A handle that sparkled brightly from the moonlight radiating of it now. It was (Y/n)'s knife, Niffty recognised.

Looking around, when she saw no wolves close by she chased to it. The butterfly flew away again into the distance as she arrived. Niffty picked up the knife in a swift motion. "Alastor! Catch!"

Alastor eye's darted towards Niffty's voice that wasn't behind him anymore. He was about to scold her for leaving you alone but held his tongue when he saw the sparkle of a knife shine in her hands before she threw it at him. He caught it effortlessly in his right hand. As soon as she threw it, she ran back to you and scratched at a wolf that was threatening to come too close for comfort while growling.

Alastor was bleeding from his forehead and multiple gashes from all over his body. But he felt newfound strength flow through him as soon as he held the knife. Ah, he missed this, this thrill of the hunt. He had a crazed expression on his face as he looked over at the wolves standing before him now. The ears on his head perked up as it sensed a wolf coming in closer. Just as it launched he moved out of the way and cut a big slash across it's neck and kicked it away. The wolf's now limp and dead body fell onto the ground beside you and Niffty.

"Come on, it's time to play, puppies..."

.

.

.

.

.

On the other hand, everyone was worried sick at the cabin. Angel found the bag you left at the edge of the forest and brought it home.

"What if something bad happened to her... Vaggie I'm scared!"

"Clam down toots! I'm sure she's fine.... probably..." Angel looked away, not being convinced by his very own statement.

"We cannot find Alastor and Niffty either. If Niffty was here, maybe she could have sniffed (Y/n) out." Pentious pointed at his nose. Husk took a gulp of orange juice you had since alcohol was gone. You really needed to stock up on some alcohol.

"What if we all go find 'er?" Cherri proposed. "She should be around somewhere here right? Since her bag was found close, she should be close as well."

"We... could do that...but what if we get lost? It'll take forever for everyone to get back together again." Vaggie looked at everyone present. "But it'll be our last choice, if she or Alastor or Niffty doesn't come back within half an hour. We're going out."

.

.

.

.

.

The fight was going much better then before. Alastor easily transformed between deer and human befitting of the situation. He could stab a wolf with a knife and then toss it in the air and kick another in its shin after transforming. Then again collect the knife after becoming human. It was fun.

But this couldn't go on forever. He knew that from the fatigue coursing through his body. He had to end this quickly while the adrenaline was still present. After some more slashes and stomps, he remained the only one standing in a field of fresh corpses.

He didn't have time to celebrate his victory. As soon as the last wolf was down, he quickly returned to you. The black stripes of his dress has been painted red with both his blood and the animals. He crouched down to inspect your pulse. It was weak, but you still had it. Alastor let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

Alastor put the knife away in his pocket. He softly picked you up in his arms, careful not to put too much pressure on the cuts of your body. His own body was hurting severely, but he needed to be strong for your sake.

"Niffty, run back to the cabin and tell Vaggie to come immediately. And also bring someone to help carry her quickly. I'll be right behind you."

Niffty nodded her head and began sprinting towards your cabin. Alastor looked at your face with a soft gaze. He leaned down and whispered, "Stay strong my dear. You'll be fine, I promise.." With a final breath he began heading towards the cabin as moonlight shone on both of you.

Perhaps because he was so caught up to save you, he didn't notice a pair eyes watching the whole thing.

"Interesting...."

.

.

.

.

By the time Niffty reached the cabin, she found all of them standing outside, ready to depart in search of you. Their eyes widened seeing Niffty with blood on her dress.

"NIFFTY WHAT HAPPENED??"

It didn't take long enough for Vaggie to reach Alastor with Niffty alongside to guide her. Alastor gave a small smile towards the crowd as they collectively gasped seeing the both of you. Without wasting a moment, you were transferred on the back of Husk as Vaggie cast her healing. Alastor was about to fall down but Pentious caught him just in time.

"Hang onto me!" Pentious took one of Alastor's hands and slid it over his shoulder to support him. Vaggie kept casting her healing all the way to the cabin as Charlie started to cry. You were placed in your room with Vaggie, Charlie and Cherri. They changed your bloody cloths and cleaned you up first. Only then the boys were allowed to come.

Alastor on the other hand was placed on the lounge in the other room with only Niffty and Husk. Niffty sew up all the cuts and scratches he had and Husk just stood in a corner watching. Alastor wasn't comfortable with showing anyone else his bare body.

After that was done Alastor laid down on the lounge with a cover on his body as Angel walked in and popped next to him sighing and started a smoke.

" How's....(Y/n)?" Alastor found himself asking while looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to appear too worried for you, yet he could help but be anxious. " She'll live. Vaggie's doin all she can to save her." Angel took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke. "But what exactly happened? Why was she in that forest and how did you two find her?"

Alastor and Niffty began to tell their tale from when they found the butterfly to Niffty seeing the butterfly on the knife to Alastor carrying you. He skipped the part of his determination to protect you though. But he greatly told the tale of him slaughtering the wolves with great detail that left Angel's stomach turning.

" That butterfly...do ya think it could be a demon like us?"

"It's very much possible. It certainly wasn't any normal butterfly. But how did it gain the power to control us? I don't think any of us had any power like that."

" What if it's something entirely different from us? " Niffty jumped in.

" That would certainly explain this phenomenon. Though we can't really be sure. To know about it properly we need that butterfly. But that isn't a safe choice considering what happened today. "

A silence befell the room once again as Cherri slipped into the room. She took a sit next to Angel. "Vaggie's working her magic right now. If she wasn't here, not sure what woulda happened to her."

" Yeah...also smiles, ya transformed..." Angel said with a toothed grin looking back at him. He had deep curly brown hair and light brown skin. Two fluffy deer ears stayed atop his head. His glasses which were drowning in blood when they first saw him was cleaned again and sitting on his face. Plus Angel could swear he saw a brown tail poking out from behind Alastor's dress when Pentious carried him back.

Alastor's amber coloured eyes scanned Angel's face. He knew exactly what Angel was trying to get at.

" So ya do have feelings for-"

" None of that! "

" But you needed to have intense feelings

  to transform ~"

" I merely wished to protect her that's

all. If I came without her you all would have scorned me."

" Same thing!"

With Alastor transforming, it meant the whole crew was human once again. Things should be a lot easier now.

" Also...does (Y/n) know about this? That

  we need to have feelings for her to

  transform? "

" Obviously not. We all collectively agreed to keep this a secret from her."

.

.

.

.

The night went by rather quickly. Before Alastor knew it, he was falling asleep. The fatigue and the effects of blood loss finally caught up to him.

You opened your eyes the next day at afternoon. The first thing you realised that almost every part of you hurt. With a huff and a grunt you pushed yourself up a bit. Vaggie was sleeping lying her head on the bed and and her hands on your torso. Charlie was asleep on the desk on the other side of the room. Angel came in with a plate of food and he let out a scream seeing you awake. He quickly put the food down on the table and rushed to you.

Apparently Vaggie has been healing you nonstop throughout the night, she pushed her body to her limit and passed out around the morning . Charlie was the same, she used her ability to smoothly clean your cuts and remove branches stuck to you. Your eyes widened hearing about Alastor.

" Alastor? Where is he?"

" He's fine, he's in the other room. Do you want me to call him to you?"

" Yes, him and everyone else. I want to know what exactly happened..."

Alastor wore one of Pentious's shirt's for now. He and others soon joined in your room. You made sure to talk quietly so you didn't wake up the sleeping girls. They deserve to rest.

"That butterfly....that damn butterfly is the reason behind all this.."

"But I don't understand one thing." Pentious looked lost in throught with a hand on his chin. "Why would that butterfly bring you both to danger and then help you fight back?"

"To know that we need to be in contact with it. But there's no need to rush considering what happened."

You sighed loudly, all that matters that all of you were still in one piece. You'll have to take a few days off from your work to recover. You'll ask your colleague to cover for you. He owes you one anyway for the time you secured him a date with his crush.

That being said, you finally looked at Alastor properly. This guy was handsome as fuck. His brown locks fell onto his bandaged forehead in a lazy manner. His honey eyes locked into yours as he felt you staring at him. You quickly averted your gaze, but you knew that he knew you were staring. A smirk formed on his face as he leaned in close to you.

"Don't I get a thank you for saving you back there, my darling?"

You let out a small yelp and whipped your head towards him. Then again backed your face away when you found his face inches apart from yours. When did he get so damn close?

"Yes uh, thank you..for saving me back there."

Alastor's grin just got wider seeing your flustered expression. He booped your nose as you blinked in confusion.

"Dear don't think I forgot all the things you did and said when I was stuck as a deer. I promise to pay back every.last.bit."

You couldn't help but gulp in the way he said it. Plus the intensity of his stare just added to this making you feel like fainting for the second time now. Just what did you get yourself into?

"Yeah, smiles ya gotta back up a bit. If Vaggie was awake she'd chew your ass up."

"Don't worry, I won't bother her too much. Rest assured my friend."

Something clicked into you just then. Today's the day you've been waiting for a long time. Hazbin hotel season one has officially been released!

"Guys, wake Charlie and Vaggie up again! We have your future to watch!"

.

.

.

.

A.n: Sorry for the long wait. College has been straining all my energy and will to live (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

This was one of the main scenarios that has been on my mind since the beginning of the fanfic. I had to start writing a whole ass story to make it understandable lol.

Also guys! GUYS!! I GOT FANARTS!!! LOOK AT THIS!!

These two were the first ones that got sent. It's Vox as the blue butterfly. Man I love his suit 🫠🫠

The second was this, our two girls!! Charlie and Vaggie both in their animal and human forms!! Also there's our first ever transformation moment~

Y'all remember the iconic moment of Husk putting on our shirt? 🥹🥹 They drew this!!! And there's our cutiepie Niffty and Mr. Precious!!

Man I can't believe my silly little fanfic inspired someone to draw fanarts!!! God I was so thrilled!! All of these wonderful fanrts are drawn by @/ Little_Wonders7 (twitter) @littlewonders7 (Tumblr) thank you again!!!

As for who the butterfly actually is....I think this will disappoint a lot of you..

Yes, tis I, your own author. Or the Hazbinfication animal of your author. I couldn't think of any way to bring reader back to the forest where the transformation was supposed to take place. So I forced a reason by placing myself there.(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

This conversation is a thought I had while putting myself there so I decided to draw it.

A clue about this was on my twitter account where there's a blue butterfly on my pinned plus my profile. Shout-out to "sdsblogmainblog" to be the only one to get it!! I feel sorry to everyone who came up with cool theories on who the butterfly could be (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

Also no, the pair of eyes watching Alastor and reader was not the butterfly and DW I won't interfere in the story much.

And the winner of the voting issss

🎊VOX🎊

Vox had 27 votes on wattpad

0 votes on Tumblr

11 votes on ao3

Total - 38

Velvette had 12 votes on wattpad

3 votes on Tumblr

16 votes on ao3

Total - 31

I wrote "Your vote has been counted" on the votes I collected. So if you guys want, you can recheck. And I'll explain the requirements of a new character arriving in our world in the next chapter since this is already getting long (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Also towards people who are sad velvette lost. I only asked who'll be in the harem, not who'll come into this world. And this goes for every single character. Take this how you will.

Stay tuned folks~

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

[justcressida]

How Do Record Of Ragnarok Characters Deal With Turkish Women?

(The reason why the reader behaves annoyingly towards the Greeks is because of the confusion of food and culture)

(Actually, they can't cope, but that's a secret. Also, the nationalist cat in me is acting, don't blame me)

THOR

You look at his damn face and think he's calm, right? You're absolutely wrong.

You're not much different from a pair of rabid dogs. Thor isn't much of a social God, and no one can figure out how this guy came together with a chaotic leg.

He saw a lot, he didn't think he would be surprised by anything for the rest of his life... Until I met you.

You howled as you gave the middle finger to the Greek Gods??? Like a real wolf??

Really, truly in his immortal life, he had never been so surprised. He wasn't very interested in races, but when he learned that the Turks were descended from wolves, that strange gesture made sense

He observed that he was a very passionate person. You were proud to be proud of your culture and treated your ancestors with great respect.

You also said that you were going to make him eat a weird thing called kebab once and if he didn't like it you would shove the skewer used to cook the dish called kebab up his ass??

LOKİ

A scary couple that you have to run away from no matter what.

Similarly, he found you eating fish and grinning wickedly in front of Poseidon. You were eating while looking Poseidon in the eye, and Hades had to intervene to prevent Poseidon from killing you

FOUND IT VERY FUN

You are such a chaotic couple. Even Loki is sometimes very afraid of you, though. I mean, what madman would have a big 'National Anthem' painting made in the room and then have the entire Scandinavian Pantheon read it at knifepoint?

Whenever he doesn't like any Turkish food, you recite an epic of Turkish profanity to him, so he has learned to go to your senses.

Your favorite activity is to make people hell with life.

You speak so much Turkish that he knows all the Turkish swear words thanks to you.

BUDDHA

The love of his life.

Buddha always does whatever he wants, similarly you are the perfect couple as your favorite activity is breaking the rules.

Because his stomach is a black hole, you and your whole family are constantly cooking a lot for him. Your possessive attitude towards food surprises him a little, but at the end of the day, he doesn't care much because it's profitable.

You drive him crazy by speaking in Turkish. Really... You grin wickedly after saying a lot of Turkish things to kill him out of curiosity.

.... After a while, he ate so much lahmacun that his stomach hurt for a long time.

POSEİDON

The funny thing is that you do everything to drive Poseidon crazy, and what's even funnier is that you're married.

He might actually laugh if he stopped freaking out because of your disrespect, but for Atlantis' sake, why look at the sirens and "If we cut this, we'd make 2 pounds of anchovy pan... I'm craving it." What do you need to say?

(In Atlantis, everyone runs away from you because they're afraid you'll grill them)

He decided to stay away from you because you broke the painting 'Gençliğe Hitabe' to Apollo in his head.

... He is scared and aroused.

APOLLO

You broke a painting in his head and told him, and you said 'Yavşak piç'

He later found out that it meant "Squirrel bastard" and was defeated because of your audacity.

No one knows how you came together, but they're most surprised that you treat Apollo like shit.

"How are you today, little bitch?"

Although Apollo was partially accustomed to your chaotic behavior, what surprised him was that you loved each other by beating each other. When your best friend hit you on the buttocks in front of everyone, you tore her hair out and then hugged each other on the floor???

Also did you love each other by swearing???

Strange, but Apollo liked it

[sulfies]

Wolves in Romé pt1

Desmond ran. His paws trotting on the stone floors of Rome, with the wind licking at his maw, he did not stop. 

They were after him… the crazy furry cult.. the followers of Romu- Romunucu… or whatever Shaun had called them. They weren't so silly once they appeared to be real and very much after Desmond.

Desmond who had a tail and two furry ears and paws and a whole wolf body. Desmond who had woken down at the sanctuary that held that ugly armour, covered in fur, no longer human.

Did Rome even have wolves?

An arrow flew past him and he stopped his flashback with a sad inhuman yelp to keep on running. Didn’t these guys worship wolves, shouldn’t his species be considered sacred to them or something?

His paws slipped slightly on the smooth dirty stones as he took a left to an empty alley. He was glad it was dead of night, Desmond did not think crowds could handle a wolf running up and down the streets. 

Another arrow flew past as Desmond tried to plan his route, he remembered that there was an entrance to a forest he could maybe get to if he took a turn two streets down to the left… or was it to the right? He never had to do this without the animus map on his right corner before.

Desmond howled suddenly as pain shot through his back leg.

 He got hit… 

One of them had to hit eventually but damn it hurt. He took a sharp right, eyes blind in pain and crashed muzzle-first onto a dead end.

The kicked puppy noises that left his inhuman form were pretty sad.

“There you are finally! Come here doggy”

3 cackling shadows came over him as he backed into the end, laid low, teeth bared, snarling.

 Desmond knew he was fucked. His new wound was hurting and he was tired, he didn't think he could take all three of them with these odds but at least one would come down with him if he did.

One of the cultists, the one at the front, stepped up holding his sword between them to put distance between his very biteable arm and his sharp teeth. Desmond barked at him and bit the air… teeth clanking in a clear sign of step the fuck away but the man only grinned.

“We have been waiting for you little pup, come on now don't make this hard for us. Romulus is not the most patient…”

Desmond only snarled and growled back again, thunderous rumble from his chest never stopping as the other man swung his sword around his face.

Suddenly, a landing shadow on the clothesline above them caught the corner of his eye.  As he snarled and dripped sylva everywhere for his life he could see the shadow shift and move right above the other two wolf furries slowly, like a predator eyeing its catch.

“Come on you stupid dumb mutt…”

The sword's tip slashed at his muzzle and Desmond's attention shifted back to his main threat as he growled once more, his snarl fully on display as he started tasting blood from the dripping wound. Oh, how he wished he had his gear. 

Busy with keeping the sword in his line of sight, Desmond only saw a glimmer of metal before the two men staying behind, laughing at his desperation, crumbled onto the cold stone road behind his main attacker. There was no other sound as Desmond saw his savior rise from the bodies that cushioned his fall and make his way over in small steps.

If he had lips he would have the biggest grin right now.

“Why don't you leave the poor dog alone Amico, I’m sure we can find a lady that is more of your…taste”

Ezio spoke. 

Desmond knew that voice as if it was his own.

The remaining follower whipped his head around and Desmond saw his opening.

He lunged at the man's arm holding the sword, bringing the man down in a scream with his soft arm in-between his very sharp teeth. They slammed down to the hard ground in a roll and the man, to his credit, managed to land a punch on his nose, kicking him onto a stack of empty crates. Desmond would have been madder if he hadn't taken a chunk of the man's flesh between his blood-soaked muzzle as he was thrown across.

The man's agonized screams filled the alley and left as quickly and abruptly as they started. Desmond could not see what happened from where he was thrown into but he could guess where one or two pointy metal objects could end up in a screaming man on the floor.

When Desmond could get the dirty cover they put over the half-rotten crates out of his eyes and tangled limbs he saw Ezio leaning over the man with a chunk of an arm missing.

Ezio turned his head to where he was lying down, wiping his blades on the dead man's robes.

”You poor thing must have been scary to get chased by these lunatics.”

Yes, it was.

Desmond stayed where he was, breathing heavily as the adrenaline slowly started to leave him.

“Let me look at you little pup… I think I saw his sword hit but it's too dark.”

Desmond huffed what was supposed to be a snort when he saw Ezio slowly get on his knees, hand stretched out, crawling closer over to where Desmond decided to lay inside the old broken crates.

“Come here Cucciolo…” snapping his fingers, he whistled.

He whistled. He didn’t think Desmond was actually a dog…surely. It was dark but he was clearly larger than a village dog with way sharper teeth even in pitch black.

“Come on I won't harm you~”

Yea, I, might harm you! 

If he had been a regular wolf that is, Desmond thought.

Another whistle and Desmond gave up trying to teach Ezio common sense. 

“There you are mi Bello…” Crawling under the boxes and bits he could see Ezio take in his size. “You are a bigger thing than I thought huh, couldn't see much at this hour but not a puppy I recon…” 

Yes… He was very much not a puppy. Desmond rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of Ezio shaking his coat to get rid of bits and dust. Moonlight on his fur the assassin was now finally able to get a real good look at him. 

“Definitely not a puppy… oh boy… Not even a dog are you?”

The hand he held in front of him wavered a bit, clearly wasn't sure if he wanted to keep the limb so accessible now that he knew the animal in front of him wasn't the friendliest of spiciest or a man's best friend.

Ezio wanted to laugh, Desmond also did because why the fuck was Ezio Auditore alone in an alley at night face to face with a wolf he rescued from some crazed bastards. And why was his arm still out!?

“H-how about you don't hurt me?” 

Of course, only Ezio would try to bargain with a wild animal. Stubborn dumbass, but this was a better scenario than having Ezio put him down for a rampage a wolf could cause on the streets.

As the man tensed further, Desmond trotted closer with his eyes on Ezio. His hand was still but he could see from Ezio's face how much he wanted to move it away. 

Once again, stubborn dumbass.

He heard the man take a sharp inhale as he brought his wet nose to his palm, he waited a bit sniffing mostly for show and for Ezio to let go of the breath he held. Slowly, placed his maw onto the open palm, his blood-soaked fur dirtying the man's gloves.

“No way…”

He looked back up to Ezio to find the man's eyes twinkling with glee he had never seen in any memories he watched. Tilting his head into the palm Desmond felt the man finally get the courage he needed to start petting him as his fingers twitched between his sticky fur.

“Leonardo is going to lose his mind… Pazzesco! I am petting a real wolf…” 

He wouldn't be alone, Desmond was losing it for sure. Well, he had been losing it actively since the animus but becoming a wild animal in the 1500s Renaissance? I think he got to a point past therapy on day one of Abstergo kidnapping.

He was a wild animal in Ezio’s Italy…. He was getting pets from THE Ezio Auditore in THE Renaissance.

“Who's a good boy~ Look at that tail wag!”

Oh god, and his tail wagged…. 

Desmond turned his head to look at the betraying limb but when he did the twist bumped his back leg right onto Ezio’s knee. He jolted in a yelp as pain shot through him, he had almost forgotten he had an arrow to his glute.

“Oh Cucciolo... wait a second boy”

Desmond stayed in a low whimper as Ezio dug into his pouches. Getting bandages and a flask, he looked over to the wolf with sympathy.

Lips pressed flat Ezio spoke in a teasing tone his face did not reflect ”Facciamolo… we are going to make a little deal you and I” He placed a gloved hand to his own chest “I promise to help you heal…” then pointed at him…

Desmond looked into his eyes unimpressed as Ezio tried to bargain with, again, a literal wolf. He hoped his animal face was expressive enough to get his point across.

“...and you have to promise not to bite, Capisce?” 

His hands scratched at his ears and Desmond had to admit it felt nice, like a relaxing massage on just the right spot. “This will hurt, I am sorry.” Then the same hands moved slowly toward his legs. Desmond knew Ezio talked from experience when he said his warning.

God and he couldn’t even have alcohol to ease the pain that was about to come!

Ezio’s eyes darted between his wound and his face a few times.

 He was clearly expecting to be bitten.

 Then again what wild animal would not if you yanked an arrow out of them? Desmond could not blame him really for thinking of his limbs when he was making a chew toy out of one a minute ago…

Ezio's hand closed around the arrow shaft in a gentle pressure.

Both of them took a deep breath.

“Please don't bite me!”

Yank.

Desmond was not proud of the voices that came out of him…

[taxidermycanine]

i think i may be a wolfdog... much to think about

(rambling under the cut / venting? sorta? poetry??????)

i feel domesticated, but not fully. i feel as if i don't belong around people, but it's all i have. my tail doesn't wag in a way the other dogs understand, slowing when it should be delightfully fast. not enough.

i don't belong on this couch. this bed. this house. a calm pat to the head worries me, i tense but cannot bite. my teeth ache.

do i even fit in with those that look like me? act like me? howl like me? i feel isolated despite everything about myself aligning with them. i feel excluded from the dogs. but i don't fit quite right with the wolves, i don't know what i am. i don't know who i am.

do i need to know? my handler likes me. loves me. it's enough, really. i don't know why i want more than this. do i deserve more?

did i come out wrong? did my teeth grow in right?

[strawberrylemongrass]

I'm just thinking about König

I have headcanons about him :3

(look below the cut)

as everyone and their mom knows by now, he has social anxiety. but I feel like he's painfully awkward, too. he starts talking and just doesn't know when to stop, so he rambles and just goes off on tangents and forgets what he was talking about in the first place.

but that's only when he's not actively working. he can be cold and honestly acts a little arrogant when on the clock. doing what he gotta do, getting shit done, taking no crap.

as soon as he's not expected to be serious, he's talking. and he just doesn't stop.

and he's a wolf guy. I don't mean that he calls himself an alpha to put other men down, but he means it in a "I am in charge and I have people that rely on me". he doesn't actually know much about wolves tho.

he has a bunch of those cheesy wolf shirts, you know the ones. where there's a bunch of wolves howling in front of a moon and a galaxy. yeah he loves them. he thinks they're really cool.

if he has social media, he's always posting cringe stuff.

he has these terrible motivational posts, all the pictures he takes are a little blurry or just weird, he sometimes just posts "cool" pictures he found on google or facebook and screen shotted.

when he sleeps, he's silent. absolutely no sound. sometimes it looks like he's dead because he's such a deep sleeper. and he usually hugs things in his sleep, too. a pillow or himself, or whatever poor soul is within arms reach. he hugs and doesn't let go.

I feel like he's fine with most upsetting things, but he can't handle sad dog movies.

wears no-show socks.

that's all I have for now. these are all very much real to me. I love my cringe ass husband! υ´• ﻌ •`υ

[lady-lycany]

To my fellow wolves out there,... is it just me or are you also annoyed by shows, movies, songs, ect. using always the exact same wolf growls and howls? As if they don't have the chance to get new recordings. Same with dog barks or growls, tooooo often they use sounds that already were used in so many other types of content. It's all so overused at this point, that these sounds just sound unreal to me.