#howling hellhound

[hellhoundsprey]

This is kind of a random ask, but do you have any blog recommendations for people who are chill about wincest AND destiel? I like both and want to support creators from both, but I feel like I'm always just avoiding drama about one or the other, and your blog never feels that way! I love it here.

Hi there! Yeah, I totally get where you're coming from! For multishippers like us, keeping a curated dash is very much essential for any sort of worthwhile online fandom life :)). I'm glad my blog is a chill place for you!

As for recommendations: here are some of the peeps with whom I've been super happy with over the years. They're either super chill with multishipping or are outspoken multishippers themselves.

@stripperlecki

@awabubbles / @awaart / @awaafterdark

@silver9mm

@thegoodthebadandtheart

@husbro

@gutterhoney

@homo-pink

@weefaol

@bitchfacebrothers

@azrielrose

@ryugarika

@kansaskissedlips

@samanddeaninpanties

@theangiediary

@tradwifesam

(If any of y'all want to be taken off this list of course simply let me know, no problemo 🙏🏻. You're just really cool and I enjoy you on my dash so that's why you're in this list.)

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Little Red Rapscallion

Gender Neutral Reader x Jack Howl Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: 'Dear Evil, Overlord, Patron. Please stop sicking your demon guard dog on me. I'm only trying to help. Kind Regards, Little Red Ridinghood'

A/N: Thank you so much to @insideous-beez for the brain rot, which became brain fertilizer, and eventually a functional story; This one is a bit darker than the other installments due to the Warlock/Evil Deity goodness, so there is a bit more horror here!

[PART 1]

Your grandmother had always told you to mind your manners when it came to the creatures who made the forest their home.

Or, well. That was a lie. Many lies, really. If you wanted to be nitpicky.

Firstly, the old crone who lived deep within the borough of the cursed trees wasn’t actually your grandmother. At least, not in the biological sense that seemed to matter most within your little, provincial, town. She was just a kindly, wrinkled, turnip of a woman who found you wandering the mudflats one day and decided she liked your spunk and general lack of self-awareness. She patted your head, served you strange, bubbling, teas laced with sweet magics, and always returned you to your fretful parents by sundown. And so, she was Grandma. Even if calling her that aloud made your parents go nearly green and had the local shopkeepers crossing themselves and spritzing you with Holy Water.

Secondly, Grandma had never told you to keep to your manners. Usually, she encouraged the opposite. (‘Why not curse them, huh?’ she’d complain loudly. ‘They’re thieving bastards, the lot of them.’ ‘Grandma,’ you’d sigh. ‘The street cleaners are just doing their job. They didn’t mean to steal your dead racoons.’) The idea of her demanding you act ‘proper’ and ‘kind’ was damn near laughable. But what she did enforce upon you with all the firmness of a world-weary teacher was the concept of not fucking with that which ought not be fucked with.

And the sprawling, Shaftland Forest was not to be fucked with.

It had always been a great, creeping, thing. The trees would groan and whisper as you passed, and when their sharp branches tangled in your cloak like grasping fingers, it never felt like an accident. The animals that lived beneath those trees were even stranger—wild, large, beasts with glinting eyes and an arcane mysticism about them that left icicles in their tracks even on summer days, or tangled the undergrowth into something that moved.

The people of your village did not enter the Shaftland Forests. They put up signs, and wards, and spun cautionary tales to every traveler who dared step even a single foot into their teeny, terrified, homestead.

You visited regularly. Because you were half-stupid at least, and because Grandma lived in those woods. And while she’d cautioned you about treating her habitat with care, she’d promised ages ago that so long as you were sweet to the forest, it would forever be sweet on you too.

‘There is a great power in these trees,’ she’d hum to you, as she stirred a simmering pot that looked to be filled with the blood of… something you probably shouldn’t think too hard about. ‘You would have been a lovely gift for it, you know.’ She laughed under her breath. It didn’t sound like a joke. ‘But you were too precious to ruin like that. So he decided we ought to keep you.’

You had no idea who ‘he’ was supposed to be, but you always made sure to shower the forest with compliments. As thanks for not using you as whatever being a, uhm, lovely gift entailed. ‘Oh what nice leaves you have,’ you told many a tree. ‘And what large petals have bloomed today,’ to all the flowers. You’d always been safe in these woods—sheltered beneath a bubble of golden affection and the soft scents of the richest perfumes. The forest always welcomed you with open branches and the coo of creaking bark.

Which is why the twisty field of black thorns blocking your usual pathway gave you pause.

You reached out a finger and prodded one of the sharp points. It bit into your skin with the clear intention of drawing blood, before swaying away at the last moment to twine loosely around your wrist.

Huh. How peculiar.

“May I pass?” you asked the thorns.

The shivering web of ebony tightened along the path and you frowned.

“May I pass, please?” you tried again.

The briar patch seemed to heave with a gusty, angry, sigh. You were about to reach forward and try your luck one more time when a deep, rumbling, snarl curled out from the shadows beyond. Out of the sea of roiling darkness and dainty thorns strode a great, white, wolf. It bared its teeth at you in an expression that was entirely unpleasant.

Immediately you held up your hands in placation and took a wide step backwards. The wolf just kept growling at you like you’d murdered its entire family or something else equally egregious. It skulked forward soundlessly, ears pinned flat.

“My apologies,” you said, dipping your chin in a gentle bow. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just trying to use this path to—”

The wolf lunged at you with a near roar, and you just barely managed to roll out of the way with a shriek. The thing landed hard in the dirt where you’d just been not a moment prior, and it swung its great, fanged, maw in your direction.

“Apologies, old one,” you tried again, just as Grandma had taught you. “But I really just—”

The wolf snapped, nearly taking off your fingers, and you folded over like a turtle that had been upended on its back—rolling around helplessly with your limbs flailing wildly as you went. The sharp crack of your head against the ground left your brain rattling around like dried beans in a can, and you could taste the copper sting where you’d bitten down into your tongue. The failed cartwheel had set you back a solid fifteen feet from the wood’s edge, and the wolf huffed at you—a stupidly pointed ‘stay away’ if you’d ever seen one. It glared at you with glowing, golden, eyes for a long moment before melting back into the shadows.

You spat out the cocktail of mud and blood pooling along your tongue, and wiped angrily at your sore chin. The forest had never denied you before. So maybe it wasn’t your lovely, lonely, trees that were sending you away. Maybe it was just this stupid wolf. Maybe the beast was trying to make a stand—to usurp the role of whatever spirit had ruled over this dark land for so long now. You grumbled and made your way back to your feet. It was fine. Your forest was strong. It would never lose to such a stupidly fluffy opponent. You’d just have to try again tomorrow.

The next day you armed yourself with a small arsenal of goodies. Daggers, ropes, armloads of talismans, and kindling, and rations. You hoisted your bow across your back and carefully plucked at the soft fletching of the arrows. The feathers buzzed beneath your fingers, and after a moment of uneasy hesitance, you cautiously replaced the weapon where it hung over your bed. Grandma had never liked the idea of you carrying weapons in the forest (‘it invites troublemakers’ she’d warned), but if something really had gone wrong in her woods, then it was better to worry about asking forgiveness than permission. And surely you could argue for a dagger. The bow… With its weighted arcana and strange, dissonant, strength felt like something dangerous.  

So you apologized to the rippling thorns before cutting them back with swift, precise, strokes of your blade and starting down that familiar path to Grandma’s cottage.

You made it about fifty yards before one of your talismans began to ping worryingly. The tingling thrum along your side was just enough of a warning to keep you from being mauled outright.

The White Wolf lunged from between the trees and you skittered out of the way of its attack. For such a huge creature, it was so silent. And its gleaming, downy, coat should have more than given away its position in the gloom. There must have been some kind of magic to it—something old, and ancient, that let the beast slip through the darkness unseen.

The Wolf situated itself firmly in the center of the path, hackles raised and shoulders hunched like it was readying itself to pounce.

“I need to get through,” you told it, firm, and raised one of the Protective talismans. After a heavy moment you scowled and bit out, “Please.”

The Wolf snarled and propelled itself forward. It latched its overlarge teeth in the fabric of your red cloak and quickly began to drag you to the ground. You frantically flailed about, and just managed to avoid those glinting fangs enough to thrust the talisman up into the beast’s ribs with a heavy smack. The charm lit with a brilliant, amethyst, gleam and sparks shot through the air. You let out a triumphant, ‘ah HA!’ And then all that magic fizzled out like a dying candle. You gaped in horror as the ‘one hundred percent foolproof, don’t you worry about that child’ Protective talisman fluttered to the ground like a discarded bit of newspaper.

“Oh, shit,” you croaked, as your cloak was shredded between the wolf’s canines with a horribly shrill wriiiiiip.

You sprinted like a bat out of Hell, tearing through the undergrowth and only just managing to collapse beyond the border of the tree line before the wolf could snap its jaws around your ankles. You curled your limbs protectively up beneath you, and watched through a veil of cold sweat as it paced along the foliage—leaving no tracks in its wake.

Fine, you thought bitterly. Two can play at this game.

The next morning you walked North, beyond the only safe paths you knew. Carefully, you began to scuttle your way up the nearest, gnarled, tree. The bark groaned and rattled beneath your fingers, as if disquieted. But there were no trails of white fur yet darting about the underbrush, so you offered the tree a hasty apology before climbing higher.

From there, it was only a matter of cautiously hopping from branch to branch. Normally when you’d tried ridiculous feats of stupidity like this in the past, the trees seemed more than eager to help you along—practically reaching out with their branches to catch you in their willowy, wooden, fingers. But they seemed stiff today, testy. The leaves themselves seemed to complain as you went, and you shushed them as politely as you could.  

There was a sharp bark from beneath you, and you looked down to see the Wolf circling your perch in a frantic, pacing, dance.  

“Hello!” you beamed, perfectly, poisonously, pleasant. “Nice to see you too!”

The Wolf sneered, lips curling up into a tight, tense, bow over its fangs.

You leaned forward, keeping a hand securely looped into your roost.

“Aww,” you cooed. “Is it too hard to climb up here with those big, fluffy, paws?” you mocked, wiggling your own fingers contentedly. “Bet someone really wishes they had opposable thumbs, huh?”

And then, like you were being smited by God Himself, the branch beneath your feet cracked clean in half, and you plummeted to the ground bellow with a harrowing screech. Naturally, you landed right at the wolf’s aforementioned stupid, fluffy, paws. Its great head lowered, and you could feel the heat of its breath as it growled into your face.

With a pathetic little ‘eep!’, the talisman tucked into the back of your boot burst into life and you flickered like a janky illusion. You stumbled to your feet a dozen or so yards away, fighting the urge to double over and barf. Slipping through planes was unpleasant at the best of times, let alone when under actual fucking duress.

The Wolf blinked its wide, golden, eyes at the empty space beneath its paws, and then whipped its head in your direction like a blood hound. You pushed yourself upright with the help of the very tree who had betrayed you so thoroughly, and began your hasty retreat.

You crashed through a curtain of thorns and out into the open with a gasp.

You rolled forward like the world’s most inelegant acrobat and came to a skidding halt in the dirt. You sat up with an achy cough, dislodging muck, and rocks, and leaves from your windpipe.

The Wolf prowled behind you—its glare a set of golden pinpricks in the gloom.

“What is your problem?!” you wailed.

The wolf tossed its head, like rolling its eyes wouldn’t have been enough. And snapped at you with another one of those pissy, bitten off, growls.  

“You know what?” you seethed, swinging back onto your knees to jab a finger at it accusatorily. “Fuck you!”

The thing had the absolute gall to snort at you before turning to return to its ceaseless patrol.

By the time you hauled yourself back to your family home, you must have looked an absolute mess. No one bothered to stop you when you practically clawed your way up the stairs and into your small bedroom. Though to be fair, no one really bothered to stop you for anything anymore. Not since an old women with too much spare time and not nearly enough light in her eyes had decided that you were a child to be treasured.

You grabbed your bow off the wall and slung it over your back. The sleek, silvery, wood hummed beneath your fingers. It had been a gift, one whose very existence you stalwartly refused to question. The weapon was finer than anything that could have come from your village’s blacksmith, or honestly probably any human craftsman. It was weightless. It was too heavy. It sang in your hands. It was not a token to be bestowed lightly. But… Well. Whoever it had belonged to before, it was yours now.

And you were going to shoot that goddamn Wolf right in the ass.

On the fourth day of your apparent banishment from the Shaftland Forest, you stormed those woods like a would-be conqueror. The silver bow keened beneath your palms, and you held a thin, spiked, arrow knocked and at the ready. Your nemesis found you in no time at all, and you bared your teeth at the stupid, fucking, mutt before it had the chance.

“One last time,” you said, drawing your bow as tight as you could. “Let me pass, beast. Or I will go through you.”

The wolf’s hackles were raised, but the snarl had slipped off its face. It dug its claws into the dirt, and you watched something like surprise work its way across the thing’s regal features. Its golden glare flickered from you, to the bow, and back again, like it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

“I have business in these woods,” you demanded. And then, petulantly—because you just wanted to know that your stupid, devil worshipping, turnip of a grandmother was okay, and you were so fucking fed up with this garbage—you stomped at the ground and shouted, “And I was here first! So scram, you overgrown Pomeranian!”

The Wolf’s ears drooped, and something like a tremor worked its way down its spine. But then the thing was shaking its giant head like it was surfacing from beneath a pool of water, and it straightened its posture with a rumbling growl.

“Fine,” you snapped, and unleased the first arrow. It whizzed past your fingertips with a thready, shrill, fwoom faster than you could track. The booming force of it shocked you enough to have you shooting wide, and you watched that pin-thin arrow hit a tree trunk and sink all the way through to the other side.

The Wolf rushed forward when you went to reload, fur standing on end like you’d run it through with a bolt of lightning. It tackled you bodily to the ground with a yelp, and you wheezed as the air was knocked out of your lungs in one, fell, swoop. The bow tumbled out of your hands and you scrabbled for it wildly. And then the beast lunged for the bright red of your hood, as it seemed so keen to do in each of your past scuffles. But maybe it was done playing with you. Or maybe it just wasn’t expecting you to flail around so terribly. Because its garish fangs bore down past the soft, billowy, fabric of your cloak and tore straight into the meat of your arm instead.

You gasped and weren’t entirely able to swallow down the sharp shriek of pain that bubbled up and out of your throat. The wolf reared back in shock, its mouth stained red. It immediately ducked back in close, and then away, and then in again. Like it wasn’t sure what to do. The stalwart resolve from earlier was gone—replaced entirely by a bumbling sort of panic that had your head swimming more than the blood loss.

You tucked your arm in close, feeling the tattered remains of shredded fabric curling beneath new, warm, wetness. The Wolf cautiously nosed forward, but when you flinched it reared back like you’d struck it. The beast stepped pointedly away, and then began to pace frantically back and forth. Occasionally it would stop, like it was going to move in close again. But then its pointy ears would press stiff and flat atop its head and it would skulk away all over again.

Whatever, you seethed silently, jerkily ruffling through your bag for some of the Healing talismans you knew were tucked away at the bottom. If the monster felt some kind of weird guilt for taking a chomp out of you when it’d already been doings its damndest to maul you for the past four days straight, that was its problem.

It was taking you longer to unearth the talismans than you would have liked, and your hand was really starting to shake in earnest. The Wolf whined high and miserable in its throat, and you rationally decided that it would be a terrible, petty, idea to waste what little composure you had left just to tell it to fuck right off.

The horrid mess of crimson had begun to seep its way along your skin—dripping down your wrist to plop against the damp, mossy, earth with an echoing plip plip plip that was not unlike the fall of slow, fat, spring rain. The air around you seemed to grow heavier with it—the trees swaying at their roots and the dark, shriveled, flowers straining against their stems to get a taste. The Wolf’s golden gaze flicked around the grove cautiously, and you watched its black nose twitch in obvious discomfort. You swore you could see hands—dozens, hundreds of inky appendages reaching out from the shadows. Fingers twisting up into claws like they meant to grab onto you and dig in, never letting go. The Wolf settled itself at your back like a brick wall, snarling doggedly at the wispy talons. The beast was so large it practically enveloped the entirety of you, and you had to fight the delirious, dizzy, urge to lean back into its impractically soft fur.

“Hey! Are you alright over there?”

Both you and the Wolf jolted in surprise as a group of adventurers plowed their way through the trees. The Wolf’s already distressed expression twisted into something nearly manic and it roared—putting all those ferocious teeth on display.

“Woah!” one of them yelped, crashing to a halt and dragging their friends to a stop beside them. “What the fuck?!”

The others all looked equally startled, hands settling heavily on their weapons. And while right now Mister Wolfy wasn’t outright nomming on you or your limbs, there was a still a steady stream of blood trailing from the wound near your shoulder—a set of very obvious teeth marks sitting stark and red against the rest of you.

“We heard a scream,” another spoke up. Then, pointedly raising the sharp edge of his sword, asked, “Is this your companion, Ranger?”

‘Ranger?’ you blinked, confused, before remembering the bow still sitting in the dirt by your feet. Before you could respond, the Wolf lurched forward over your shoulder. It didn’t leave you—didn’t stray from its steadfast position at your hind—but it pushed its gaping, angry, maw as close to the group as it could. The trio reeled back as the monster snapped, and snarled, and nearly vibrated out of its skin with rage. But… no. Something wasn’t quite right. As viciously angry as all that harsh barking sounded, there was something very, very disquieting about it. Something strained, something afraid.

The one with his sword raised stepped forward, the others moved to follow. And then they were gone.

You blinked, shocked silly. There had been people there—not a second before. You were sure of it. What the fuck was happening?—

And then there was a discordant scream from somewhere deeper in the woods. Distant, but close. Like there were arcane tricks distorting the way of the world. Keeping you separate from the horrible, grinding, shrieking noises while… whatever was happening carried on—not a dozen yards away. Cloaked in shadows and rotten, violet, petals like how a parent might gently close a curtain around a child’s bed at night.  You watched in half-awe, half-horror as seeping, purple, miasma leached from the trees and into the air. It chased the intruders with vicious intent. You could feel the sharp, dark, heat of it prickling along your skin, but when that swirl of near-black enchantments made its way to you, it slipped past you like smoke—leaving only a faint trace of awful, coppery, perfume against your clothes.  

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” a deep, miserable, voice echoed in your head, and you jerked around in shock to see the Wolf staring at you with heavy, gold eyes.

“Did… Are you…” you trailed off, swallowing. Not sure how to even begin asking what you wanted to ask.

The Wolf sighed, bone deep and weary.

“I tried so hard to keep everyone away,” its voice rumbled in the back of your mind. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

“This is my forest, too,” you said after a long moment, fingers digging into the dusty material of your pants. “What’s wrong with it? What happened?”

The Wolf stared at you, quiet and considering. And then it lumbered to its feet with a defeated sort of slouch.

“Come, then, Little Red One,” it huffed, and swished its tail against your back. “I’ll show you.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[howlingafterdark]

Predatory

My breath fogs the glass in front of me, a window between the two of us. Transparent and yet always there . A fragile, delicate thing - something I was never meant to be

I know that animals bear their teeth in aggression. I wonder if everyone can see the feral dog in my smile, shaking, trying to hide the fear. I wonder if that keeps them away from me and protects the pane of glass between us. Keeping me in the cage I built around myself.

In the reflection I see my smile with gilded teeth Predatory The unbridled hunger of a frenzied beast The growl sits in the back of my throat Hackles raised with the sense of danger looming on the horizon My window a mirror of the self

Fear is a verb in preservation To live and breath while running on knife edges The sword shoved between jaws placing fangs on display like diamonds Is violence still violence when it comes from your own hand Does the pain ache less if self inflicted Or does the betrayal of one's own self preservation hurt the most

The claws reach through the mirror Grabbing at an exposed throat Saw my chest open Pluck out my heart and devour it Reminding me what it is to be Vulnerable

[calistozom]

Another request. This time – a magnificent hellhound in the company of their friends for @detectiveashcroft. It might be a little early for Howl-o-ween, but it's very suitable for Summerween. ～(￣▽￣～)

P.S. – I tried to combine my usual darkish style here with the palettes of hellhounds from Helluva Boss and, as for me, it turned out quite juicy. Especially "the friends from the other side". Who knows, maybe this grey gentleman is just pretending to be a hellhound? Who knows? It was a pleasure to draw them, and I hope you like it as much as I do. >w<

[xyrthemost]

LUPOCEANUSIDERIC

[pt lupoceanusideric end PT]

[ pronounced loop-ocean-us-I-deric]

Complex flag -> Simplified flag

[IDS in alt text]

A Ideric ID that relates to Hellhounds who roam , live or dwell near or in an ocean.

My last attack for the day on @thehoundsflags !

Thank you @voidcoining for help on the ID for the complex flag I appreciate it! /g

@kiruliom , base post for 5 points !

[fcredragonslyr]

verses

[cerberivs]

tags dump;;*

[thisisourlovestory]

Everything Has Changed

part 1- the chronicles of a stargirl and her sun masterlist

Luke Castellan x reader

Summary- you travel to camp and end up meeting a certain someone for a brief moment but it's enough.

Word count- 5k

Notes- my first Luke fanfic! It's going to be a series of sorts with each part based vaguely off a different Taylor Swift song. I was not planning on it being this long, I thought it'd be max 3k but no the gods of creativity struck. Thanks to @imaginingmoonlight for the beautiful vibe up top and also to @fangirlfreak08 for helping me choose the song. I love you both mwah

“Run!” A voice yelled from behind you, a hand placed on your back to push you forwards even as your legs started to give out beneath you. Rain poured down around you, soaking through your clothes and making the muddy ground harder to run on. Your hair fell in a limp curtain around your face, raindrops catching on your lashes and obscuring your vision. The sun had set and you had only the pale light of the moon to guide you up the hill and towards the pine tree at the top of it. A roar echoed from in the trees and you whipped your head around in a panic. The trees were falling, hitting the ground hard, the thundering noises rippling through the air. That was your mistake. Within a second you tripped on a tree root protruding from the soil, tumbling to the sodden grass, scraping your knees on the rocks hidden underneath moss. Then you heard the roars again. Closer this time. The trees continued falling, crashing down with louds boom, and with them fell your hopes of survival. your scrambled to your feet and started to run. But they were faster. So much faster. The loud thudding as they lumbered after us made your heart race. You looked to the side to see Ash limping beside you, his hooves sinking into the hillside and a gash on his leg leaking blood. He was pulling along Maisie, her green eyes wide with fear as her little legs struggled to keep up with him. you stopped in your tracks. Ash turned to you quickly.

“What are you doing? We have to run.” You shook your head, shoulders slumping as you whispered.

“We won't make it,” You gestured to the falling trees, the monsters coming closer with each second, ”Go Ash, you'll be fine.” Your voice was small and unsure, barely a whisper but you smiled and looked him in the eye. “You'll be fine. Get her to safety.” He opened his mouth to speak but the last tree snapped and they stood there, waiting. 

There were more than you had thought there was. Or maybe they had just collected some more along the way you thought. They stood tall, ugly hulking builds covered with thin scraps of cloth, they locked on you and sped up, practically leaping closer. You pushed Ash forward and he started running again, looking back at you for a moment and you smiled at him before you ran sideways. They took the bait and chased after you, swinging clubs in the air and slamming them down so the ground shook. you dodged their blows that they rained down on you, darting over tree stumps lining the hillside. Your breath came fast and heavy, blood rushing in your ears, heart feeling as if it would burst out of your chest as you ran. Legs taking long strides like a gazelle, flying over the earthen ground. 

Suddenly a club whizzed down past your ear and you let out a cry, slipping and tumbling to the ground. They surrounded you as you stumbled back up, slipping your hand into your pocket to grab your pocket knife. 

“Well, well, well if it isn't a little demigod.” One of them sneered, their big round eye focused on you. “Unlucky for you we're hungry.” Your eyes flicked around taking note of the monsters, a few cyclops, some weird giant things that were just as disgusting but had two eyes, and a hellhound. All looking to eat you. One of the cyclops reached out to you eagerly. your slashed down on its wrist, drawing golden blood and it let out a howl of pain. Its face contorted and for a moment the rest of them took their gaze off you to focus on their injured friend. You took your chance and jumped to your feet, shooting into the woods. Branches scraped your skin and dirt stuck to your clothes, your felt warm blood dripping from a cut on your forehead and wiped it away with the palm of your hand. A large hand gripped onto your shoulder and lifted you into the air, dangling you like a ragdoll, shaking you viciously and sneering in your face. A sharp blade plunged into their arm and they disintegrated into dust, leaving the rest to gape at you first in shock then anger as they resumed the chase through the undergrowth. Lightning split through the air and thunder rumbled as you ran, it seemed never ending. Were you to be stuck in this circle until they finally caught you and ended your life? 

One by one the monsters lunged at you, and one by one you swung your blade and they became dust. They apparently didn't learn that the knife was bad for them and they should avoid it. Eventually there was only one left but you were tired. So, so tired. You had been running for what felt like days and you wanted to give up. Your footsteps slowed down and came to a stop. In a flash the last cyclops standing snatched you up and began gloating. You tuned it out. Eyes barely staying open and brain fuzzy. You were bruised all over and your body was weeping red. This wasn't important anymore. It was done, your death warrant signed. You were done. 

All of a sudden you were dropping to the floor, landing on your back and gazing up at the sky full of stars, your vision darkened blotting out the moon. A face appeared above you. Dark brown eyes and curly hair barely distinguishable in the dark, but the light grew. Closer and closer, brighter and brighter. 

“-Hear me.” You made out as the buzzing in your ears grew louder. You turned your head to the side and reached out a hand to grab your knife laying just inches away. The cool metal was a comforting presence. In that moment you clasped it in your grip and looked up into the eyes above, a small smile on your face as you drifted into darkness, the boy's lips moving, yelling things you couldn’t hear. 

You wake up with a start, laying on the floor, head resting on a mossy log. You pull yourself off the ground, looking around quickly. You stood in a clearing, bright green grass dotted with flowers of every colour, tall trees lining the outside, separating it from the dark forest beyond. Water rushes behind you, clear blue falling and gathering in a pool surrounded by rocks. You climb up and stare down at your reflection, a look of confusion paints itself on your face. You're wearing a cream dress with flowers intricately woven into the fabric and somehow the same flowers are twined into your hair, almost as if they were a crown. You reach down into the water as if to check it was really you and it ripples out from where your finger touched, the reflection changed to the hillside. 

You hear the monsters again. They chase after you, teeth bared, eyes glowing red as they taunt you. 

“You couldn't save them.”

“We ate them both.”

“The girl was especially tasty.” 

You scream and they surround you. There is no end to the torment as the wind bites your skin and rain soothes the burn. They do not stop. Their growling voices stamped into memory as their claws start to tear into your skin. You scream and shout, arms waving around but this time there is no knife to help you. Blood gushes out of your body in waterfalls, staining the grass and mixing with muddy puddles that start to form. The pain starts to fade as you let go and a figure hovers over you. 

Your eyes blink open, vision blurry and body aching. You turn your head and the boy is standing next to you. 

“Go back to sleep.” He says. “You're safe.” You listen and slip back into dreamland. 

This time you're at home. Your bedroom is cluttered with clothes and school supplies. Not a single part of the floor is visible. It's dark outside, snow falling, flakes spinning in the gentle breeze. You remember this night, the night you found out the truth. But nothing changed, you continued to live normally. Until now that is. You creep down the stairs and hear voices. Your parents, arguing over you. Their words are indistinguishable, muffled by a buzzing sound that covers your ears almost like a blanket. You sit halfway down on the steps, the wooden panels cold to touch as you tap your fingers on them. Your mum appears at the bottom of the steps and smiles, her brown hair tied loosely in a ponytail. She was at work all day and her eyes are tired but she holds her arms out.

“C'mere.” She says simply and you crash into her as she strokes your hair, whispering softly and planting gentle kisses on your hair. Soon your dad joins the hug, his large body smelling of chocolate and cinnamon as he encases you and your mum. You feel safe like this. As if nothing could ever hurt you and you sit on the couch in between them laughing at the TV as you sip on hot chocolate-your dads specialty-topped with whipped cream and marshmallows that melt into a gooey mess in the mug. And in that moment all is right in the world. But the universe is cruel and wicked and loves us just that little bit too much that it can never let something else have that which is theirs. Because that, that is the exact moment when you wake up.

Your eyes opened slowly and you stared up, nests perched on the wooden beams across the roof home to tiny baby birds that chirped demandingly for their parents to feed them. You groaned and sat up, the covers slipping off the bed, exposing your bare legs to the cold air that swept through the room. You shivered, pulling on the orange top with black lettering and a pegasus on the front that was definitely not yours and was way too big so it hung loosely on your body, a pair of black leggings-the only thing that fit right-and a hoodie next to your bed, again not yours, in fact the hoodie was so big on you that you had to roll the sleeves up three times, on the upside it was incredibly comfortable and it smelled nice, like freshly picked mint and lemon. Your clothes had been pretty ruined, you thought, it was nice of them to give you some new ones. You tugged on your pair of trainers that had been laid on the floor, the only things that belonged to you. No longer pure white, instead pretty much black. Standing up unsteadily you breathed deeply, fighting off the feeling of nausea and grabbed the glass of water on the side table, downing it in one, gasping at the coldness as it slid down your throat. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked horrible, pale with dark circles under your eyes accentuated by the shadow of a bruise on your cheekbone and a plaster stuck to your forehead. Your arms were covered in tiny scratches and plasters that had little pink hearts drawn on them with a shaky hand. 

You walked over to the door and opened it, carefully stepping out and closing it behind you. You turned and took in the sight in front of you. It was a summer camp, kids roaming about in bright orange shirts, all laughing and joking together. Not one of them noticed you. You made your way to a conservatory type place and stopped dead in your tracks as you noticed a man sitting in a chair, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping, greying hair and beard looking as if he had been electrified. And he was wearing a leopard print shirt, bold choice but okay.

However he wasn't what stopped you. Not at all. That would have been the centaur, standing there dealing cards to the other man and Ash. Your eyes widened, that was an actual centaur, he was literally half horse, like in the myths. A quiet snort of disbelief escaped your lips, a hand flying to cover the noise. Ash turned around and saw you standing there like a bloody lemon. He stood up hastily, his hooves, his bloody hooves, clicking against the stones.

“You're awake.” He patted the chair next to him and you sat down hesitantly. 

“What's going on here exactly? Is Maisie safe? What is this place?” 

The centaur sent a stern look to Ash.

“You didn't tell her.” Ash smiled weakly.

“I didn't have much of a chance to. What with all the cyclops, hellhounds and gods knows what else that were on our tail.” The centaur sighed deeply, his bushy grey eyebrows drawing closer together as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No matter. I suppose I will just have to do the explaining now.” He smiled at me. “Welcome to Camp-Half Blood.” You nodded slightly and Ash caught the look of confusion that crossed your face. He pointed to the centaur and then the man.

“Chiron, activities director. Mr D camp director.” Chiron bowed his head slightly in greeting while the other guy sipped on a can of diet coke. 

“Hi,” You muttered, “But I was serious, who's going to tell me what's going on here, and is Maisie okay? And when you say Chiron do you mean Chiron or Chiron?” You questioned, looking around, Chiron opened his mouth but Ash beat him to it.

“Maisie is fine. She's settled in pretty well here, everyone loves her so don't worry about her. I do mean Chiron Chiron, as in immortal trainer of heroes. As for the other question, that might take a bit longer to explain but I'll give it a shot.” Ash always was the confident one you thought as he stood up and went over to Chiron, always better than you in these types of situations. Ash clapped his hands together and took a deep breath before allowing everything to spill out in a jumble. 

“So you know how you could see those monsters and they wanted to kill you?” You shivered and nodded. “Well the reason you could see them is because you're a half-blood. Half god half human, also known as demigods.” 

“God? As in the Bible, Christianity and the Garden of Eden. That God.”

“Not quite.” Chiron answered. “Not God, the gods, the Ancient Greek Gods, the Olympians if you will, and one of them is your mother or father.” You stared at him blankly. 

“What? But they aren't real, they were just stories.” The diet coke man sat up with a jolt and eyed me. 

“The gods are very real and this one is trying to sleep.” You gaped at him, eyebrows furrowed as your mind worked. 

“Mr D,” You muttered, “You're Dionysus, the god of wine and madness. And you're just here. At a summer camp?” The man grumbled under his breath. 

“This is where chasing after one of dear old dads nymphs lands you. Looking after a bunch of teenage half-wit half-bloods. As if not being able to drink properly wasn't enough.” He lamented. You frowned and were about to ask before Chiron beat you to it. 

“Lord Dionysus has been forbidden by his father, Lord Zeus, to consume alcohol as a punishment. His presence here is also part of the punishment. He must be camp director for 100 years before the ban is lifted and he can return to Olympus full time.” You nodded, not quite understanding but choosing to leave the subject at hand. 

“So I'm a half-blood?” Ash shoved a metal can in his face and nodded.

“Yep, you wouldn't have been able to get past the boundary line if you weren't one, you wouldn't have been able to see the monsters and they definitely wouldn't have been trying to eat you.” 

“How do they know?” You asked softly. 

“Know…” 

“How do they recognise half-bloods?” He shrugged.

“There have been lots of theories but the one that has been proven is that demigods have a certain smell, it's kinda in their blood. Obviously mixed in with the human there's a bit of godly ichor, only the tiniest of bits but it's enough, and when that kind of blood mixes with the human blood in demigods bodies from the mortal side, it creates a smell that only monsters can notice.”

“So like a chemical reaction.” You said quietly to yourself. Somehow the others all heard, Chiron chuckled and Mr D sent you a look of disdain while Ash contemplated the thought.

“That's not a bad way to describe it actually, I'll have to use that next time. But back to the monsters. Naturally they can smell demigods from miles away so they have a better shot at killing them and they always follow the smell because they know that at the other end of it is usually a snack for them, if not two. Of course some kids smell stronger, usually those ones are more powerful, so more monsters will go after them. And usually those kids die pretty quickly unless a satyr brings them here.” You glance down at Ashs hooves.

“You're a satyr.” 

“Yes I am.”

“And your job was to get Maisie and I here.”

“It was. I'm your protector, my job was to watch you and see if you were a demigod then when I was sure I had to bring you here. I found Maisie as well by sheer luck, she probably wouldn't have lived much longer out there.” He picked up another can and bit into it.

“What do you mean?” 

“Most monsters.” He started with his mouth full and you made a disgusted look. He grinned sheepishly then swallowed, “Sorry. Most monsters only start to really go after demigods when they're about the 5th or 6th grade. That's when the weird stuff starts to happen as they start to get more powerful.” I opened my mouth. “Before you ask no, I don't know why you've managed to last this long. There's only a few demigods who make it to your age without being found but they're typically the children of minor gods whereas you are definitely not.” You blinked.

“I'm half god, I'm constantly going to be running and trying to not die and you bring me to a summer camp.” You started, voice growing slightly louder with each point.

“When you say it like that it does sound a bit stupid.” Ash mumbled as Chiron clopped over and placed a hand on your back.

“Come child, take a walk with me.” You followed him out the doors, turning back to see Ash giving you an awkward smile and a thumbs up.

“Ash, get me another diet coke.” Mr D demanded and Ash jumped up, scuttling out of the room with the old can in his hand. 

Soon enough you were out of sight, walking slowly through the camp. 

“The life of a half-blood is never easy.” Chiron began. ”That is what this camp is for. It is a safe haven where you can live peacefully and make friends. We train you so that whenever you do go back into the mortal world you can protect yourself from monsters if they should choose to come after you. I have seen many a half-blood pass through here and each one has emerged with skills that help them survive. You may leave if you wish but you will always be welcome here.” 

“What if I fail? What if I get someone killed? I almost got Maisie killed. ” Chiron smiled pityingly.

“You may fail over and over but you can only get better with time. The greatest heroes in the past never got it on the first try. They had to practise hard to get to the top, to be remembered. And so will you. You fought bravely out there, you have great potential to be a formidable hero and make your godly parent proud.” You stared at him. 

“How will I know which god or goddess my parent is?” Chiron chuckled. 

“They will send a sign and claim you if they wish.”

“You mean they might not even want me?”

“No but the gods are busy and they do not always have the time to claim all of their children.” His tail swished behind him and he led you over to a small girl, her long braids tied back in a ponytail. “This is Annabeth Chase. She will show you around and help you adjust, she was one of the campers who found you in the forest.” Annabeth scrutinised you, her large brown eyes locked on the way you twisted your fingers nervously. “She is one of our year round campers and has been here for almost a year now. I think despite her young age and apparent lack of experience you’ll find her very capable indeed.” With that he trotted away leaving you alone with Annabeth who merely remained staring at you. And more closely at the clothes you were wearing. You shifted uncomfortably at her unwavering gaze. 

“So, Annabeth,” You began awkwardly, voice as quiet as possible, “Who’s your godly um relation?” She regarded you silently before sighing.

“My mother is Athena, goddess of wisdom. And I don't have to be a child of Athena to tell that you are very confused.” 

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, she levelled a look at you that read really. 

“Yes it is that obvious. Walk with me. I'll explain everything about camp that Chiron didn't.” She set off towards a lake, leaving you to trail behind her. 

“You know we're demigods, half mortal half god, yes?” She nodded and continued. “And you know about monsters and all that? So you know when they're ready your mum or dad will claim you?” At your nod she continued. “While you're unclaimed you'll live in the Hermes cabin which I will show you later. It'll be our last stop so you can get settled in immediately and Chiron already had your stuff taken over so that'll be waiting.” She stopped in her tracks as we got to the beach. “This is the canoe lake. Watch out for the nymphs, they can get a bit violent sometimes but only if you do something stupid to provoke them.” She pointed to a wall dripping orange in the distance. “That's the climbing wall, the lava is an incentive to actually climb and not fall. But you'd be surprised at the amount of people who still end up getting sent to the infirmary to be treated for burns by the Apollo kids. Some of their stupidity astounds me, then again it is only ever the boys so maybe it's just that boys are stupid.” You smiled slightly at her logic, while not entirely true it showed a tiny crack in her otherwise unflappable exterior. She shook her head as if in disbelief of her own words. “Anyway, the amphitheatre is over there.” She gestured to a mass of stone and turned around, marching back up the sandy path. You both walked for about half an hour until she stopped. “Over there are the strawberry fields, that's what our cover is. Delphi Strawberries.” She grinned. “Can't have people knowing this is really a place where kids learn to kill stuff. Besides they can't see through the barrier so even if we did tell them the truth they'd just think we were lying.” Your face spoke for itself, yet another thing you didn't understand. “I'll explain another time.” She pointed to a huge stone structure that reminded you a little of the Colosseum, then two other much smaller shacks. “That's the arena, when you've learnt how, you can practise fighting with weapons there, that's the forge where the Hephaestus kids make the aforementioned weapons. Of course anyone can use it but they can get a bit territorial. And that there is the armoury where we store all the weapons and armour. We’ll probably take you there tomorrow and if not then it'll be sometime this week at least.”

“We?” You asked and she blinked.

“My brother and I. He's good with weapons so he’ll be able to help you find one that suits you. Better than I would be able to at least.” You nodded in understanding, looking up at the darkening sky and then the watch on your wrist, the strap barely held together. Annabeth followed your gaze. “It's getting pretty late. We've probably missed dinner but there'll be plenty of leftovers for us to just grab quickly from the Big House. But we should hurry up just in case.” She turned on her heel and started sprinting along the grass. You followed hurriedly, ignoring the pain that shot through your legs with every footstep. As you ran you looked around camp. Illuminated in the glow of the setting sun it was beautiful, the greenest grass you had ever seen and deep woodlands rich with vibrant wildlife. The strawberry fields seemed to be rolling and endless across the hills, pink dots seeming to engulf the green. Annabeth halted in front of the huge farmhouse you had come from earlier and brushed the dirt off her cargo pants and the same orange shirt as you before entering. 

You both made your way to the conservatory area and as soon as Annabeth entered she piled up a plate with food. You followed suit, grabbing a few slices of pizza, some chips, cucumber and a chocolate cupcake. Your eyes followed Annabeth as she walked up to a bronze brazier and flicked in some food, Bowing her head and muttering something under her breath. She looked at you and tipped her head.

“Your turn. You just scoop in some food and say a quick prayer.” You raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “I'll…” 

“Explain later, I know, I know.” You dropped a slice of pizza into the flame and mumbled.

“Whoever you are, accept this delicious slice of pizza and just yeah.” You finished lamely and stepped back, immediately biting into the pizza and marvelling at the taste. “No wonder they like burnt pizza, this pizza would be good even if it was charcoal.”

Chiron walked into the room unexpectedly. 

“Ah, there you both are. I was wondering when I'd see you again. I trust Annabeth has given you a good enough tour.” 

“She did.” You said in affirmation.

“Good. Well your belongings are all in the Hermes cabin waiting for you so off you go. And leave the rest of the pizza here. I haven't had it in months and I've missed it.” Annabeth dragged you out the door as you pulled down the sleeves of your new hoodie so they dangled down. She released your arm once you were outside and began to walk just across the path to a clearing full of cabins. You were startled as a blur collided with you, screeching with excitement. Maisie.

“You're alive!” She practically screamed in your ear and you laughed quietly.

“I am but if you keep being this loud I might not be for long.” 

“I missed you. But I've made some new friends as well. Like Annabeth, we play hide and seek together and it's really fun!” You tapped her on the nose and crouched to look at her properly.

“Really now? What else has happened while I've been gone?” Maisie puffed out her chest proudly.

“I got claimed. By Dem-Dem-” She cut off unsurely.

“Demeter?” She nodded furiously.

“Yes! And big sister Rosie is teaching me to control plants.” She said the last part in a whisper. “I've got superpowers and it's awesome.” You smiled gently

“I'm sure it is and I can't wait to talk to you again Maisie but right now Annabeth and I are a bit busy.” You gave an exaggerated yawn and looked at your watch. “It is so late. Way past your bedtime missy so off you pop.” Maisie grinned toothily, planted a kiss on your cheek and sprinted off back to a cabin with a rooftop of grass. You looked over at Annabeth to see her smiling fondly before she shook herself out of it and stopped you in front of a different cabin. 

“This is me. Cabin six.” She stepped into the doorway. “ Cabin eleven is over there.” She pointed across the clearing. “Since it's spring there's only two or three people staying there at the moment so you'll be able to grab a bed.” She hesitated for a second before giving you the briefest of hugs. “I think we’ll be good friends. You seem nice and Maisie has been singing your praises.” She flashed her white teeth at you in a small smile. “Night.” With that she disappeared from sight and you dawdled across the clearing, taking your time to get to the cabin and standing outside it for a good ten minutes. 

Eventually you plucked up the courage and walked in. Immediately tripping on a loose floorboard and falling towards the floor, arms outstretched in front of you to try and break the fall when you hit the ground, bracing yourself for impact. But it never came. 

Instead you felt a pair of warm hands wrapped around your waist, stopping you from falling. Pulling you away from the floor and turning you around as you tried to right your bearings. 

“Hello.” A voice spoke, sounding amused.

Thank you.” You stammered, still slightly shocked as you stared down at the floor and shuffled your feet. 

“Nothing to thank me for, I wasn't about to just let you faceplant. Funny as it might've been.” The person responded smoothly. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine,” You muttered, “Just a little embarrassed is all.” The boy laughed and you finally looked up. Your breath caught in your throat. It was the boy from that night. His curly hair messy and warm brown eyes sparkling as a small grin pulled at his lips. 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He responded. “You must be Y/N. I'm Luke. Luke Castellan, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

All I know is we said, "Hello" Your eyes look like comin' home All I know is a simple name And everything has changed

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Houndoom(Pet-Like)

As someone who has a Houndoom as my fire and dark type in Brilliant Diamond right now (Her name is Hellena), I'll happily write for the hellhound :)

Overprotective! Houndoom Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Pet/Animal-like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Attempted murder, Possessive behavior, Arson, Jealousy implied, Despite the source material this is dark, like really dark.

Houndooms would be quite terrifying of they were overprotective of a trainer.

Sure, you may think they'd be just loyal dogs.

Yes, but recall their Pokedex entries?

Most entries say essentially the same thing.

Houndoom has a fire that when someone is burned by it, the burn lasts forever.

This Pokemon is also often considered the "Grim Reaper" due to the howls it produces according to other dex entries.

So, no, Houndoom is not just some dog Pokemon.

I imagine you took one in as a Houndour, which makes the Pokemon extra attached to you.

That or maybe you managed to tackle the feat of catching one in the wild.

I'd imagine a wild Houndoom would take more time to get used to their trainer.

At first they reluctantly follow beside you when you let them out of their ball.

They listen in battle but there's no connection quite yet.

It's not until you stroke their fur, walk alongside them, and train them that they get attached.

Your Houndoom all of a sudden starts getting used to all this praise and warms up to you.

You often take them on a walk through routes and battle with trainers.

You try to train them well as you don't want an accident happening.

You are aware of the danger a Houndoom can cause outside of their ball,

One wrong move and the second a fire breath ignites from their mouth?

Chaos.

For the most part your Pokemon seems well behaved.

They adore you petting them and often wrap around you when resting.

I imagine if a Houndoom became overprotective of a trainer or human they adore they'd get violent.

First it's things like growling, barking, and roaring.

During walks you end up having your Houndoom jump in front of you and show aggressive behaviors.

Wild Pokemon quickly skitter away, which is useful at times but annoying at others.

Then you grow concerned when your Houndoom decides humans are also a threat to their precious trainer.

As a result you keep them in the ball more often.

The most dangerous part of a Houndoom is indeed their fire.

Their claws and teeth are quite bad, yes, but at least the pain subsides then.

Their fire? The pain is forever.

Think about this.

Maybe while you go to sleep at night your Houndoom breaks out of their ball.

Sometimes it's innocent and they curl up around you, wanting the warmth of their trainer.

Other times they leave your home... looking for what, exactly?

They're looking for Pokemon and humans that could have hurt you.

Houndoom is obviously a Fire type, yet they are also a Dark type.

Your Houndoom may not care about the chaos it causes.

As long as they keep their trainer safe they could care less how they do it.

During the night your Houndoom targets random wild Pokemon to get stronger and vent frustration before returning to you.

However, if they're feeling extra ambitious, maybe they target people.

Maybe your Houndoom decides to target your rival... or someone else close to you.

Maybe your Pokemon doesn't like the humans around you.

By the time you wake up in the morning you see it on the news.

A house caught on fire, the survivors having burns that never seem to go away.

They're disfigured and in so much pain.

The report strikes fear in you.

Sure, wild Pokemon sometimes end up attacking humans, it happens.

Yet it seems oddly targeted....

You knew these people.

You try to tell yourself things will be fine.

It's nothing, it's just a wild Pokemon attack.

But as you pack your things to leave your home, your eyes drift towards the ball containing your Houndoom.

You don't want to believe it, in fact you shut the thought out...

Part of you still manages to think your own Pokemon was behind the fire...

But that couldn't be true... could it?

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Doggo Headcanons.

My thoughts on the boys getting a pair of hellhounds. Let's go!

Max gifted the puppies to the boys.

Two rotties. Slightly different colored fur patterns, but the biggest difference was one had pretty blue eyes while the other had striking yellow eyes.

David was against the idea from the get go. His reasoning was they didn't need dogs around.

One week later, he's the Brooklynn-99 meme. "If anything happened to them, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself."

Laddie, Marko, and Paul took the pups immediately. They're thrilled about it. Dwayne and Star took little convincing and quickly came around to. David acted like he wanted nothing to do with the pups. At least until they were constantly taking naps in his lap.

Everyone, including Star and Laddie, argued frequently on name ideas.

They finally got their names when Paul pulled a puppy out of his music collection, and she had gotten a Heart cd in her mouth. They opted on naming the dog sisters after the Wilson sisters after Paul called the blue eyed pup Nancy and she responded to it.

The yellow eyed pup is named Ann but everyone, including David have gotten used to calling her Annie. Ann just sounded too formal for them.

While both dogs are equally excitable and playful, Nancy is the more party dog. Often at Pauls and Markos side. Jumping around a howling along to the boys music.

Annie is the more mellow of the two. Often playing gently with Laddie or just laying at the side of Dwayne and David during quieter activities like reading or card games.

David thinks it's ridiculous, but the rest of the boys and Star often dress up the dogs in accessories and even paint their claws. The dogs absolutely love it. The most David will do will get them an assortment of dog collars. Mostly black leather.

Star and David are the only ones the dogs let bathe them.

While Star and the older boys hang upside down deep into the cave, Annie and Nancy curly up with Laddie. Always on alert to possible intruders.

Feel free to add more! This is all I can think of. 🥰🐾

[hellhoundsprey]

Are you ok is it serious??

I'm safe, it'll just take time.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Uh- could you possibly do wome romantic HCs for a Vox x Transmasc Cannibal/hellhound hybrid? Maybe some stuff having to do with the readers lil' doggy mannerisms and behavior?? Please and thank you!!

Hmmm. Okaaaay. Cannibal is like Rosie’s species, right? And I mean sure! I wouldn’t mind this at all! Thank you for the nice idea! Bisexual Vox go brrrr~! This is actually my first ever Vox and I am sorry if I ruined his character

Vox- Vampire Canine

Vox has never met a demon like you before. You’re a hybrid of a ghostly cannibal and a Hellhound, if not a abomination of a demon species but you’re fascinating and one of a kind so of course, when Vox sees you, he is determined to make you apart of his staff

You have the good senses of a Hellhound and yet the ferocity of a Ghostly Cannibal. You’re a perfect little helper, somebody he could use as a personal assistant and Vox basically bribes you to work for him when he spots you within the streets of Pentagram City. He’ll pay you handsomely, you just have to help with his Television Show

Overtime, Vox falls for you and he ends up quitting the whole on-and-off relationship he has with Valentino to be exclusive to his little Hellhound. Of course, Val isn’t happy about that but don’t worry, Vox won’t let his ‘ex’ harm you

Vox finds you simply adorable. You let out all kinds of dog-like noises; pants, ruffs, whines, growling, howling. Anything of the such. He links you to dog noises and when he hears a dog noise, he suspects it’s you and he, on purpose, scratches your weak spots to hear you bark or pant out. It’s precious

Vox sits you in his lap and scratches down your back whilst working on his computer. The best way to get through an annoyingly long night of maintaining the Pride Ring’s entirety of electronics is having his adorable dog BF sleeping right before him. He feels a boost of energy everytime his claws brush through your fur

Vox may or may not throw his Hellhound-hybrid boyfriend at his mortal enemy, Alastor, as a last measure to chase the Radio Demon away. Knowing very well that Alastor despises dogs but this also pisses Vox off since Alastor is rude to you

Vox could be described as a man with zero acceptance for specific things he doesn’t like but he is quite accepting of you and facts about you so when you come out and tell him you were assigned a female at birth but now identify as a male, he doesn’t even flinch. He supports it and he pets your head, telling you he doesn’t really care and it doesn’t impact how he feels for you

Basically. Vox is a supporter of you being a transmasc demon and he won’t tolerate anybody throwing shit at you for being more comfortable in a different body than the one you had upon being born

Bisexual Vox go brrrrr!

However, Vox isn’t a big fan of your cannibalistic urges. Since your other parent is a Ghostly Cannibal, you are cannibalistic yourself. He always proclaims ‘as long as you don’t eat him or his workers’, he’s okay with whatever you do. He just won’t watch it himself since he isn’t really into it… he is supportive but not going to be included

Vox wants you to always keep yourself modern and not be like your older-fashioned Ghostly Cannibal parent, so he teaches you to get accustom to phones, laptops, technology, WIFI, all of that. Because he doesn’t want his boyfriend to be a old-timey fool like his rival is

Vox is doing his best to be patient with all the fur you’re leaving around your shard bedroom but he is losing it… he may have to comb you and he starts to throughly brush your fur before you two go to bed so he doesn’t wake up covered in dog fur

Vox is a naturally bragger and his ego is quite prominent so of course, he talks about you on both his own Television talk show but to the other Overlords, he wants them to know HE has a rare demon hybrid as his boyfriend, and that HE is so unbelievably desirable to somebody as rare as you

Vox actually trusts you to always have your sensitive yet refined ear out to hear him out. He trusts you to be insecure and himself with, he trusts you to keep your snout shut and never tell anybody about who he really is behind the television screen. That’s how much he likes you

Vox will, just like Alastor, tug on your tail to get a response out of you. He’ll just pass by and immediately grab onto and pull your soft long fluffy hellhound-like tail so you’ll either yelp out or moan. Nevertheless, he loves how mad you get

Vox has bought you a dog collar, as both a naughty naughty gesture for the pantsdown dance in bed, and as a general claiming gesture. If you wear a collar with his name on it, everybody knows who is your owner

Vox has his best friend and his boyfriend in one demon. Trust me, he LOVES your Hellhound side and whilst he is uncomfortable with your Ghostly Cannibal side, he loves you as a whole, no matter what

“Honey, my good little boy. Where are you? Ooh~ I know. I got some sirloin meat for you, babycakes— heh. There you are”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam adopting a husky hellhound and both of them being vocal.

Adam: AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!

Husky hellhound: AAAAAAAHHHH!!

Charlie: Dad, they've been doing this for 30 minutes!

Lucifer covering his ears: WHAT?!!?

Everyone would have a damn headache in the hotel lol The only reprieve would be when they sleep.

Lucifer: Adam, darling love of my life, I beg you and your new adoptive hellhound to stop howling all day.

Adam: But they're a howler.

Lucifer: Please

Adam: What if we only did it by Alastors room?

Lucifer: I can work with that.

[mlmxreader]

Take My Soul | Crowley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ 4. "I... love you too much to condemn you."

And

11. "If a soul must be taken I demand you take me"

With Crowley please?

(happy ending please?) ❞

: ̗̀➛ Whilst waiting for Rowena to cast a spell for the Winchesters, you and Crowley can finally sit down and talk through a few of the more important aspects of your relationship.

trigger warnings : ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of being chained up, alcohol consumption

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Everything was going rather smoothly, between the Winchesters finding the right spellbook for Rowena and Crowley finding them all the right ingredients, no one saw why the spell shouldn't be a success; you had been tasked with a few of the smaller pieces of it - tracking down a purebred werewolf and harvesting its fur by the light of a full moon and other such tasks - and everything so far had gone more than smoothly.

But as you sat in the dingy little motel room next door, you couldn't help but to feel like it was all going too well; Crowley was opposite you, nursing some fine brand of scotch that you could only ever dream to afford.

"It will all be over soon," he admitted. "A spell like this doesn't take much, you'll be on the road again in no time."

You sighed, frowning a little as you swallowed thickly. "I dunno, everything seems to be going a bit too well - every time I've worked with those boys, something always goes tits up."

He smiled, nodding. "I don't think it will this time, it that helps."

You couldn't help it, looking at his short beard and the bits of grey amongst the black coarse hairs; his dark brown eyes, and how the light seemed to avoid them entirely.

You could never admit it around the Winchesters, of course, but you had always had a thing for the King. He was handsome, witty, intelligent - what was a person like you supposed to do?

Your mouth suddenly went dry, swarmed and swamped with thoughts that you shouldn't have had for him, but when you went to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge, he grabbed a glass and filled it with his expensive scotch.

"Don't drink that swill," he told you, gently pushing the glass across the table. "Have a proper drink."

You looked at the glass, then at him, shaking your head. "I couldn't possibly, I mean-"

"Please, wolf, I insist," Crowley all but purred.

You took the glass, ginger to take a swig and knowing that that scotch was worth more than anything you had ever tasted. "Why'd you always call me that?"

"William Blake," he shrugged. "Every Wolfs & Lions howl raises from Hell a Human Soul... if I remember correctly, Blake is your favourite, isn't he?"

You smiled as you nodded, clearing your throat. "Yeah, but no one... no one ever remembers that... not even Sam."

Crowley hummed, leaning back as he scratched between his eye and nose with the back of his thumb's nail. "I did. If I remember correctly, your favourite is Proverbs of Hell, isn't it?"

"And The Pit of Disease: The Falsifiers," you nodded, laughing softly. "Why'd you bother to remember all that?"

He shrugged, all too calm as he cleared his throat. "I like it when people have taste. Especially if they are rather attractive."

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes, wanting to shake your head. "You don't really mean that - you're the King of Hell, you could have anybody."

"And yet," he mused. "Here I am. You know where my bones are, just as you know the only way to get into my armoury. Doesn't that tell you something, wolf?"

You scratched the edge of your jaw for a moment, sighing heavily. "Just tell me, please."

"I mean, should anything ever happen to you, I will gather every single demon and hellhound I can," he told you. "And I will destroy whatever hurt you."

You smiled a little, clearing your throat. "I see... but listen, if... if it comes to it, and Rowena needs a soul, then... well, could you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"If a soul must be taken, I demand you take me," you told him. "Please."

Crowley shook his head, immediate refusal without hesitation. "No. No, I... love you too much to condemn you. No."

"Crowley-"

"She won't need a soul," he insisted. "And even if she did, there are plenty in the world - I will not condemn you."

"But-"

"I said no," he growled out. "If we need a soul, one of my demons will fetch us one. You will not have yours... tainted."

You frowned, furrowing your brows. "Even if it's the only way to stop the world from ending?"

"The world can burn," Crowley almost snapped. "The whole bloody universe can burn. If there is one soul in the entirety of existence that I won't take - it's yours. You are off limits."

You could see it so plainly even though he tried to hide it so well; the actual concern, the real worry, the true fear.

It was one thing from him to deny a friend of the Winchesters such a thing - knowing that they would cause problems the moment that they found out - but to tell you that he loved you in that split moment?

To tell you that he would sooner watch the entire fabric of the universe go up in flames?

It was undeniable. Truly, and when you caught his gaze again, you cleared your throat, licking your lips.

"I'm off limits?"

"Yes," he said, a lot kinder and softer. "You always will be. Even if you tell me to bugger off right now and say that you want a nice, little suburban life with Moose - you'll still be off limits."

"I wouldn't want that," you whispered. "I mean, Sam's nice and everything and so is Dean... but I like a man with refined taste and dark eyes."

Crowley's gaze snapped to you, and he was quick to finish his drink off as he put his hand on the table. "I will never let anyone go after you. Not the Winchesters, not the angels, not any of those bloody blithering idiots."

"I like that you're worried about me as if I wasn't the one who had you in chains," you pointed out with a soft laugh.

He smiled, nearly grinning as he nodded in agreement. "And I remember that as one of my best weekends... come on, drink up and then give me a kiss before those two morons decide to walk in."

You almost grinned, nodding as you quickly downed your drink.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to help Tahani save her children and husband!

[monstersandgirls-webtoons]

hey! so i have a couple questions! one: how instinctual are yer hellhounds? like how much dose instinct'n dog behavior bleed into their personalities'n general life? as in how often do they act on'em! two: how dog like can Adam get? three: do ya have a full ref of Adam's hellhound form cause i KNOW fanartists gonna be begging ya for one! XD!

I'd say a good amount of dog behaviors are within hellhounds. like howling, moving in packs (when not assigned to a powerful demon), and intense loyalty. they can also develop zoomies. Typically well educated/trained hellhounds can control their behaviors.

Very dog like, its embarrassing for him. The worst part is that he can't control his tail, so when he's happy, you'll know.

Sadly no, just imagine a big dog man

[sentientgolfball]

you and i share a dangerous obsession with phantom its dangerous!!! anyways may i request a hurt/comfort type of scenario. everywhere i look its just phantom angst and being excluded from the ghoul pack so why not contribute to this trend!!!!!

reader is out in the woods taking a stroll when they're suddenly charged at by a dog but hearing their scream, phantom comes in and chases the dog away. reader and phantom havent had much interaction with one another given how badly the ghoul pack shoves him away and when reader realizes this, they take him back to their room where they ease phantom with affection and phantom basically MELTS

hes being given more attention by a human than his pack :[

sorry for the lengthy request!!!

Never apologize for a lengthy request ! I hope you like this one I kinda made it a mutual hurt/comfort. Everyone gets to be sad and everyone gets a hug

My requests are open !

The crunching of the leaves underfoot comes to an abrupt halt. You stop and slowly scan the wilderness surrounding you. It’s green and lush, teeming with life and the sweet smells of blooming wildflowers. The whole forest is cast in a golden glow as the setting sun pours through the foliage. You close your eyes and throw your head back and let out a deep sigh that’s been stuck in you all day. You feel the prick of tears in the corners of your eyes but you will yourself not to let them gather. You were out here to feel better, not worse. 

You really don’t know what got to you, but for the past few days you’ve felt like absolute shit. You didn’t understand it, everything was going pretty good in your life you knew that. You got promoted to lead your job at the Ministry, you’ve made a cluster of new friends from the influx of Siblings, and you still maintained close ties with your friends who volunteered to go to different branches. But something struck you every so often. Normally you had enough around you to distract you, but one night one off handed comment that was meant to be more of a joke than anything made something within you bubble. You tried so hard to make it go away, to not focus on it, to rationalize with yourself but you just couldn’t. It put you in a slump for the whole weekend. You had to force yourself to chip away at the project you were tasked with. You had to force yourself to shower. You didn’t have enough left in you to do your laundry or clean your space by the end of the day. You needed to get lost in something that wasn’t your mind. That’s what led you out into the middle of the woods. You remember something about nature being good for mental health. 

You walked for a while, stopping every so often to take a picture of a mushroom or leaf that stood out to you. When the forest got darker you decided it was time to head back to the Ministry, you didn’t feel much better but you couldn’t stay outside forever. You started walking back the way you came letting your feet drag on. You really didn’t want to have to return to the real world, but you knew you had to. You continued a bit farther before stopping. 

Didn’t I already pass that stump?

You take out your phone to check your pictures only to realize it had died. How did you not realize it was so low before coming out into the middle of the woods? You cursed and looked around in an attempt to get your bearings, but it was only getting dark as the sun sank before the horizon. You felt sick as the realization that you were lost starts to sink into your mind. You looked in each direction briefly considering picking a path and following it, but it would do you no good. Everything looked the same in the fading light and it made you disoriented. You hang your head in defeat and try to convince yourself that sleeping outside for one night wouldn’t be so bad. 

Well…at least it can’t get any worse. 

You should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself. You hear a howl in the distance and you freeze, tensing. You forgot about the hellhounds. How could you forget about the hellhounds.

 To be fair, the hounds only appeared at night to act as guards for Ministry grounds and you typically were not out and about after dinner. The issue now, though, is you have no idea what to do. If the hounds catch you you’re definitely dead. If you stay put they’ll find you easily. If you run they’ll chase the scent and you’ll just get more lost. 

You don’t have a lot of time to think before you hear a twig snap. You whip around to find the source and see two red pinhole eyes creeping out from the brush. It’s growling low, drool dripping from its maw. It snaps its teeth and you feel your heart pound in your ears. You slowly start to back up from it before your back hits a tree. You stare wide eyed at the beast and send a quick prayer that whatever it does will be quick and painless. You see the way its hind legs shift and you know it’s rearing back to pounce. You screw your eyes shut and hope for the best when you hear its growl turn into a full bark. You wait for the burn of claws and teeth…and you wait. 

When the tearing of flesh doesn’t come you crack open your eyes to see a soft purple glow and a tail waving side to side. You watch the hellhound creep closer to the figure, sniff it, and then turn and dart into the bush it first came out of. The second it’s gone the glow disappears and the ghoul hunches over with his hands on his knees. 

“Lord’s below that was terrible. The puppies are so cute I don’t understand how they grow into that.” 

“Uhh…”

“Oh!” He turns around suddenly “Are you alright? It didn’t bite you did it? Oh what am I thinking if it did you wouldn’t be standing here.” 

You stare at the ghoul in front of you. The left half of his face is cracked with lichtenberg figure scars that dip below the neckline of his top. His eyes are mismatched, one the typical color for quintessence, the other looks almost hollow with the pupil glowing faintly. He has a shock of white in his hair that perfectly lines up with the end of one of the branches of his scars. But all that isn’t what catches your attention. No, what you notice is the very obvious streaks of dried tears on his cheeks. 

“Yeah…yeah I’m okay. Uh are you?” 

“Hm? Oh yea! The hellhounds won’t attack ghouls. We smell like the Infernal to them.” 

“That’s not” you pause and shake your head “You’re Phantom right? One of the new papal ghouls?” 

His posture goes rigid when you say this but he nods anyway. He asks for your name and you give it to him and you are suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. After a moment he clears his throat. 

“If you don’t mind me asking…why are in the woods? I thought humans couldn’t survive outside for long.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the statement. The way he said it was filled with such genuine curiosity it made your heart warm. But then you remembered why you were out there and your face fell again. His scars seemed to pulse dimly with light and the ghoul suddenly looked panicked. 

“No, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad by that I was just—“ 

You shake your head “No it’s not anything you did Phantom. I just…had a rough couple of days. Needed somewhere to go.” 

His eyes scan over you for a moment before he wraps himself in a hug, tail curling around his leg. 

“Yeah I…I don’t know much about humans, but I think I know exactly what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

You look up at him and your heart breaks when you see just how small he looks. You tentatively reach towards him and you’re taken aback by how quickly he jumps into you. You freeze for a second not really sure what to do with a ghoul wrapped around you. You know ghouls are pack creatures so this is normal behavior. You slowly bring your arms up and around him, patting his back softly. That seems to do the trick as you feel his tail wrap loosely around your leg. You shudder feeling a zap of quintessence ripple through you. He pulls back just enough to look at you. He looks like he got punched in the gut. 

“I can make that go away. It’ll be easy and you’ll be happy again.” 

“What?” You say astonished before mentally slapping yourself. Quintessence ghouls can sense emotion, and in rare cases read minds. 

“Just let me make someone happy please.” He sounds desperate, almost afraid. 

“Phantom you can’t…make me happy. Well okay technically yes you can, but that’s magic. It’s going to change what’s wrong.” 

He hesitates “What is wrong?” 

You stare at him for what feels like an eternity before sighing and untangling yourself from him. You slump down against a tree and close your eyes, resting your head against the trunk. A quick smile flashes onto your face when you feel him sit next to you, tail now twining around your arm. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel safe, seen. You feel your throat burn and you cough before you begin to explain what’s been causing you so much grief. 

You were lonely. 

“I know it must be such a silly thing for me to complain about…especially to a ghoul.” You say finishing out your tangent. 

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head “No I get it..”

You look up from where you had been playing with his fingers and gasp seeing the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Phantom what’s—“ 

You were cut off by him pulling you into another hug, but this one was filled with something deep. 

“Why do they all hate me? I didn’t ask for this! I try so hard to be everything they need so maybe they’ll keep me around.”

“Phantom?” 

“But they don’t! They always pair off and I’m the odd one out every time! I know they’d rather have Aether. I’m not stupid, but why won’t they just give me a chance?” 

“Phantom.” 

“I know I’m just a waste of resources to them. I know none of them would bat an eye if I just disappeared.”

“Phantom!” 

He stops and stares at you wide eyed, tears running down his face. You gently reach out and hold his cheek in your hand. He melts into the touch as a sob wracks his body. 

“I want you here.”

“But…we just met. Why do you care? Why would you want me?” 

“I could ask you the same. You came to help me without even knowing my name.”

He sniffs “I wasn’t gonna just let you get ripped to little fleshy bits.” 

You cringe a little at his choice of words but continue “I don’t know the full extent of what’s going on but…it sounds like you could use someone to help fend off those bad thoughts.” 

“Like a friend?” 

“Yeah” you smile “Like a friend. We can be alone together. How about that?” 

“I think I need that.” 

You pull him into you and let him lay his head on your chest. You two sit like that for a long time, silently bathing in each other’s presence. You let a few more tears fall from your eyes. For the little ghoul that was so shunned by his pack he had to find comfort in a human who barely knew him. For yourself who had so many people around them but still felt this hole deep inside of your soul. For both of you who found each other. 

You run a hand through his hair when you hear the softest of purrs vibrate through him. It sounds a bit scratchy at first, but soon it turns into an even rumble. You gently shake him.

“Hey it’s getting cold…we should probably find our way back inside.” 

“Oh” his ears droop “Yeah you’re probably right.” 

“Do you wanna…would you maybe wanna stay with me for the night.” 

He instantly perks up “Really? I mean I would love to. I yes I would yes.” 

You both stand and he leads the way once you explain to him that you actually have no idea where you’re at. You take over, though, once into the Ministry. You both curl up under your mound of blankets and spend the rest of the night going back and forth about the things that plague your mind, about the stupid things that make you smile, about each other until you fall into a deep sleep feeling content with the weight next to you, but also the weight that disappeared from your shoulders.

Maybe being alone wasn't so bad if it led you to him.