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@raiserofwolves
It’s been a blast, kids, but I just don’t have muse for Fen any more. I don’t wanna hang around and waste your time, and I’m sure you’ll find another awesome Fen soon. I wish all of you all the very best, and I’m always on skype - harrif8 - if you wanna chat! Perhaps I’ll return to VI at some point, but until then, so long, farewell, and I love youuuuu~
I love you all x
Hold On Forever
He wasn’t surprised when she growled at him; he probably shouldn’t have grabbed her without warning if he’d wanted to avoid that. But then she relaxed and he gathered her up in his arms, one hand brushing back her hair. “Alecto? The Carrow girl?” He vaguely knew of the members of the Sacred families because of his friendship with Rabastan, but he wasn’t sure how she fit in to this. He tried to process that and sighed. “Well if she’s anything like the rest of the purebloods I know, I’m not sure he could’ve. Why’s it so important to Thane? What’s so bad about where she was? She went back to it on her own, yeah?”
She sighed, as she hugged him, tight, closing her eyes. “Yeah, that’s her.” She nuzzled his chest, and then rocked back to look up at him, taking his hand automatically. “Thane is... kinda sweet on her, I guess. And she... He found her upset, and said she could come stay with us... He was worried about her I guess. I mean, you know how he is with us. She’s... been through some stuff too, I guess, and he wanted to protect her. I dunno why she went back.” She shrugged, and nuzzled into him. “I’ve never seen him fight with Fen before except when... Rose... y’know.”
Hold On Forever
Meeting with Thane made Alecto nervous. She didn’t believe for a second that he’d ever actually hurt her - she could have handled that - no, she knew that he had the power to sway her to leave her family’s home again. Things were easy with the wolf, simple even, despite the voices that clambered inside of her head, and she could easily see herself living among all of the pups… living at Thane’s side. It was confusing, honestly, how easily he put her at ease and she vividly remembered the night that her nightmares had been too much and the werewolf’s comforting embrace that made her forget.
The young woman shook those thoughts away. They would do her no good; she had to keep a firm resolve.
When she saw the younger man, her heart lept - a truly strange sensation for her - and she felt herself clam up a little. She was starting to feel a bit like a scolded child at his growled words, though they weren’t directed at her.
“Thane?” Alecto flinched. Her tone wasn’t even confident.
Thane growled, squaring up to the stranger. “Maybe you should have looked where you were going then, asshole.” He snapped, shaking his head, before a familiar scent caught him, and he whirled, locking eyes on her, the man forgotten as he took the few steps to reach her, and took her hands, careful not to startle her. “Alecto...” He said, softly. He didn’t understand why she’d left. They were already hunted, Fenrir’s poster was around town, even and yet they still hadn’t been caught. Emergency portkeys could take them far from danger at a moment’s notice, the house was full of hiding spots, and while dogs were a primitive defence, as an early warning system, and to discourage anyone who might try and attack, it worked, along with the wards Evan had helped them set up.
“Where have you been?” He asked, quietly. “I... I don’t understand. You were safe with us.”
museinspo’s aesthetic series — the killer ( fem )
she’s a mess of gorgeous
c h a o s
and you can see it in her eyes.
Hunting || Open
Amelia nodded as the woman spoke, moving to step off to the side of the pavement beside her, Alby happily following along. The second sentence made her curious though, watching the woman beside her glance down at a large piece of folded parchment- poster?
“I can try.” Amelia smiled at the introduction, noting the slide of an accent- that made sense considering Freya had said she hadn’t been here in a while. “I’m Amelia Bones,” she nodded towards her dog, “this is Alby. He’s not likely to be any help.” Then the woman explained who she was looking for and unfolded the poster and oh, interesting. “Yes, you’re definitely not. I haven’t personally seen him around, but then, looking for him isn’t technically my job. That’s the Aurors, not the Hit Witches, but I’ve got a bad habit of sticking my nose places it’s not allowed.” Freya didn’t exactly seem like the dangerous dark witch type, so maybe… “I don’t know if I could professionally advise you to keep looking for Greyback. He’s a dangerous man, by most accounts, but if you’re determined I could try to help.”
A dangerous man... Not the Fenrir she’d known. It was hard to reconcile them, and she really didn’t know if she was doing the right thing. She had to try, though, she was determined to. “I am. I know it is a long shot just... wandering around asking if anyone’s seen him, but if these posters are anything to go by, the Ministry can’t help me.” She gave Amelia a small smile, and then folded the parchment in her hand. The man snarling from the photograph at her wasn’t her Fenrir, she was sure of that much. “I thought maybe if he’s staying out of sight of the Ministry... well, he still has to eat, doesn’t he?” Her smile widened, and she shrugged slightly. “I understand if there’s nothing you can do, though. I suspect it was somewhat of a fool’s errand coming out to search for him, anyway.” But his birthday was coming up and this time she hadn’t wanted to miss it.
Blood Moon Disco || Revan || July 15th, 1979
She disappeared without the faintest murmur of protest, and his gut tightened with arousal. He had done that. She was likely more obedient than Tolmi and it was an intoxicating bit of knowledge because his house elf had never known differently. In fact Tolmi would have served any wizard or witch he’d been claimed by. That it was him was irrelevant.
Not the case with Rose.
He had broken Rose. He’d taken her apart bit by bit and looked into her very soul, and then he’d used that to manipulate her into his own keeping. She’d never be what she was, but as her master he could loose the wildness that lived in her blood, or he could contain it. He smiled faintly as she bounded up the stairs to put her things away. No questions or back talk, just pure eagerness for his approval.
“I’m ready, Master. Can we go?”
He picked up his bag, shrinking it so that it fit into inside the small pocket of his coat. He’d exchanged his normal cloak for a jacket that suited muggle fashion (he hoped). “Yes little Savage.” He caught her by the upper arm, and guided her expertly out into the yard where he adjusted to slide his hand down to the curve of her waist. “Hold tight.”
He’d cased the area once or twice before, not that it was hard to find a dilapidated area of Paris. The arrived with a nearly imperceptible pop (utter silence was difficult when he had baggage). The alley was dark, dank with the smell of urine, trash, and mildew. Nose crinkling he drew Rose closer to his side reflexively though his attention was on the area around them.
Bottles rustled and he glanced over his shoulder. A drunk was scrounging, likely looking for more booze. He didn’t appear to have noticed them at all so Evan ignored him, tugging Rose with him so that they disappeared around the corner before the muggle ever saw them. His goal was two streets down and he maneuvered his way across the street and along the sidewalk with ease, keeping his pet close to his side and ducking his head occasionally so it looked as though they were nothing more than lovers confiding secrets.
In reality he was giving her instructions. “We are going to a club little Savage.” He drew to a halt not far form the door, turning his body so that his hands rested along the curvaceous dips of her hips. Ducking closer, he caught her gaze, his words remaining so soft only she could hear him.
“You are the shiny bait. We’ll go in together, and then I want you to circle and we’ll see which fish bites the hardest. I’ll even let you see if you can guess which one I want.” He lifted a gloved hand to trace the back of his finger along her cheek. “When you think you’ve found the juiciest one, take him, or her, I don’t really care about gender, to the dance floor. I will give you a yes or a no.” Aware that there were eyes on them, he ducked his head to nip at her jaw as he continued, “I want a loner, so don’t waste my time with someone that has appendages. They just make things messy. Do you understand?”
The stink of the alley hit her, and she wrinkled her nose, turning into his side, relishing his scent that was somehow a lack of scent, that used to be unusual, strange, and was now comforting. She moved with him, quickly, shuddering a little, feeling the cool breeze under her skirt, flushing slightly. He had done that to her.
She wrapped her arms around him as they paused, catching onto the facade quickly and keeping it up. Her eyes met his, and her lips parted slightly, as he spoke to her. She loved him with every fibre of her being, and she was enraptured as he spoke. Still, she hung on his every word, and even as she inhaled at the feeling of his teeth on her skin, her eyes fluttering closed, she was listening. “Yes, Master.” She whispered, softly, nodding. “I understand.” She smiled up at him.
She tucked herself into his side, as she let him lead her in. The music was loud, but her enhanced senses let her filter it, listening to the voices. She was always aware of him, even as she slipped from his side - albeit reluctantly - and she wound her way through the club. It stank, of people and alcohol, and she resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. She scanned the crowd. She could picture her Master, scything through them, covered in their blood, with her beside him, the two of them ripping through the screaming, trapped crowds, death incarnate.
She touched the people as she wound her way through them, and someone bit. Hands wound around her, and she abandoned the urge to rip them off. Unless her Master told them, she belonged to him, and no-one was to touch. He had told her so, though, and she ground back against the man feeling her up. “Hey, gorgeous.” Her first prey, and she let her head fall back, rolling her hips against him, though even through the crowd, she found her Master’s eyes. Is this the one? She pulled away from him, moving further through the crowd. People moved up against her, but she could tell she was being followed. She returned a girl’s smile, moving up and taking her hand, looking her up and down, her hand running up her arm. “Hey there.”
Hands brushed over her rear, and she scented the man from before. This must be the one. He was alone, at least, no-one had followed him, and he was certainly biting hard. She turned to him, and he kissed her, hard, ignoring the startled girl behind her. His lips felt wrong against hers, but she ran a hand through his hair anyway. “Let’s dance.” She said, breathlessly, as she pulled him to the dance floor. He grinned, keeping her pulled in close, his hand moving up to squeeze her breast. She sought out her Master again, fighting the change that threatened as she was mauled by his hands. Is this him? The one you wanted? She would never have let someone touch her like that before, but he was a part of her Master’s game, and she would never go against anything he said. Besides, the rewards would be worth it. She was finally hunting with him.
Hold On Forever
David hadn’t been expecting to run in to anyone he knew, especially not the wolves. He’d been out getting replacements for some pens he’d lost and needed for work when he heard voices he recognized. He saw Thane and Marie and frowned - were they arguing?
He hurried to catch up to Marie when she barged off, looking upset. He ran forward and caught her by the arm. “Marie, hey… What’s wrong?” It wasn’t as though he’d never seen her upset before, but he’d never seen her fight with Thane. “Is everything alright?”
She whirled, snarling, instinctively, when someone caught her, but relaxed when she saw him, sighing, and folding herself into his arms. “No. Everything is horrible.” She inhaled deeply against his chest, and then sighed, looking up at him. “Thane fell out with Fen this morning. Alecto... She was staying with us, to keep her safe, and now she’s had to go back, and... Fen didn’t stop her. So Thane is mad at Fenrir, and he just stormed off.” She shook her head, and sighed. “It’s all kind of a mess.”
Hunting || Open
Alby was three(ish) and Amelia was fairly certain that at this rate the dog was never going to get over the puppy impulse to practically throw himself at her when she got home. It worked though, if his hidden doggy motives were to make her feel guilty for leaving him behind. This was how she’d returned to the flat with groceries and been promptly guilt tripped into second walk of the day. It was later than their usual walking time, which seemed to excite Alby, the dog alternately by her side or getting ridiculously underfoot.
Nearly dying an early death by overexcitable dog didn’t leave much room for paying attention to her surroundings, but Amelia caught sight of the woman anyway. Loitering, looking up and down the street, letting out a visible sigh. Amelia wrapped Alby’s leash around her hand another time and made her way up to the woman. “Hello. You seem a bit lost. Could I help?”
She noticed the dog before the woman, hopping and jumping around, and she smiled, before looking up at his owner. “Hi. Thank you. I... I’ve not been here in a while.” Not since Hogwarts, then she’d moved out to Russia to live with Gregor. It hadn’t changed much, admittedly, but it was still confusing, and she’d forgotten a lot of it. “I’m actually looking for someone.” She glanced down at the poster in her hand, still folded to hide him. The man growling in the picture didn’t look like her Fenrir, but then it couldn’t be that common a name, surely.
“I... I am not sure you’ll be able to help me, but...” She bit her lip. “Um, sorry, my name is Freya Malikova.” Her accent switched flawlessly to a Russian accent, without her even really noticing. She’d started learning Russian when she was fifteen, when her father had first made the match. “I’m looking for Fenrir Greyback.” The name was unfamiliar - that wasn’t who she’d known. “I don’t think I’m the only one, though.” She smiled, unfolding the poster, showing it to her. Fenrir snarled out of the photo at her. “I just wondered if you... might have seen him anywhere. It’s a long shot, I know.”
Hold On Forever
“Why did she have to go?”
“Thane, you’re making a scene!” Marie hissed, trying to pull her brother back into the alley. She’d had to chase him into town. Thane wasn’t listening, though, too angry and upset to hear reason. “Please!”
“No. It isn’t fair. She’s... She’s going to get-”
“Thane!” She watched, helplessly, as he strode away from her, and then shook her head. “Fine! Get yourself in trouble!”
Thane was losing it. Alecto was gone, back to the place and the people who had scared her so much, and he didn’t understand. She could have stayed. Surely she could have stayed, but Fenrir had done nothing to help, nothing at all, and it was driving him mad. He’d had to get away from his father - for perhaps the first time in his life, and he strode through the streets.
Someone barged his shoulder, and he growled. “Watch it, asshole.”
Hunting || Open
Freya wasn’t sure how she was supposed to find Fenrir. She wasn’t sure she should go to the Ministry - she’d done her research, she knew he was wanted. It was hard to believe that this was the same Fenrir she’d known. She watched the street, unsure of herself. Now she was out here, having convinced Gregor to let her go, leaving Thalia and Ivan in the care of their house elves, she wasn’t sure where her determination left her. She’d been adamant that she would leave, but now she had... It was a little different.
She wished she at least had a photo of him, but the pictures on the wanted photos weren’t him. She didn’t think so, anyway. She knew they were physically him, but... She shook her head, looking down at the folded poster in her hand, and then sighed. Where the hell are you, Fenrir?
You Had It Coming || Rabastan & Fenrir || Sept. 1978
The glare the giant wolf gave him only made Rabastan smile. He could feel it, the indignation and anger about this whole punishment ordeal radiating off of him. He didn’t think he should be here, and really who could blame him? He might have joined in at the Rabbit Hole if his sister hadn’t told him not to, and he always did what Bella asked. That’s what had wound him up here, sitting opposite Fenrir and in the position of torturer. He couldn’t give a flying fuck about the Dark Lord if he wanted to, but for Bella? He’d do just about anything.
He laughed, the sound rather sudden in the otherwise empty room, when Fenrir said he would submit. “Oh that’s good, but I don’t remotely believe that. You don’t believe you deserve to be here any more than I do. I don’t care that you pissed off our Lord. But that’s hardly relevant. Still, I’d rather not have to kill you. I’m probably one of the few, so I guess that makes you lucky.” He smiled, though there wasn’t much comforting about that at all and he knew it.
He sat back slightly, considering him. “Hm… You pose a very interesting question now, don’t you?” he mused. “Werewolves aren’t so very like humans, not more than the way you look. I’ve heard it’s painful.” He didn’t sound remotely sympathetic about it. “Breaking every bone in your body over and over, that must be difficult. But I can’t imagine breaking bones now will do you much harm. Crucio is likely the same. So how, pray tell, do you hurt someone with incredible pain tolerance and a penchant for quick healing?”
He looked him up and down, mulling things over in his mind. He had plenty of ideas, but he wasn’t sure which ones would work. “You look stubborn too. Merlin, can you imagine if I were so uncreative as to only think of unforgivable curses? That would make it so easy on you. I bet I can’t compel you to do anything. So…. Hm…. Let’s see if I can’t take that healing of yours to my advantage.” He flicked his wand at Fenrir and muttered a spell, popping blood vessels in his brain. “Have you ever had an aneurysm before? I’ve heard terrible things.”
The pain grew quickly, and he grunted, straining against the cuffs, as it grew, and then kept growing. He growled, his eyes flashing up yellow, and focused briefly on Rabastan, before he spasmed, his head turning away, and dropping. He yanked at the cuffs again, and stumbled, before falling to his knees, and then groaned, shaking, his teeth elongating in his jaw. “Fuck.” He gasped, shaking his head as his eyes struggled to focus, the pain in his wrists as his skin burned paling in comparison.
“I...” He could feel his body trying to heal itself, and shut his eyes, the relatively dim room seeming too bright. “Stop. Fucking... Stop it-” He wasn’t even sure Rabastan was doing anything, whether this was just his body. “I...” He groaned again, and shook his head, slowly, gradually slipping over onto his side, keeping his eyes closed, starting to control his breathing. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.” He ground out. “I’m gonna... kill you. Fuck.” He took deep breaths, shaky, and focused on the shift. He could do it. He could. He growled, and yanked at the cuffs, as his spine and shoulders crunched, shifting inside of him. Let’s see how you deal thinking a wolf is gonna come at you. He couldn’t complete the shift, he knew, the cuffs wouldn’t break, they’d just cut into his forelegs, but he didn’t know if Rabastan knew that.
“It’s gonna be slow. And it’s gonna hurt.” He was slurring his words, and he arched his back, his head stretching back, before turning it, cracking his neck. The healing was starting already, and he lay still for a moment, lost, slightly, in the pain, as he panted. He’d had worse. But only just, and a long time ago now. With a wrench, he pulled his mind away. The wolf slipped from the cuffs, and ran, through dew-soaked grass, bounding away, under the gaze of the moon, to his pack, fur on fur, muzzle against muzzle, cuddling into them, letting their happiness at seeing him pull him away from the pain entirely, the werewolf still on the floor, quiet, even as his breath shuddered in and out of him, his body needing the oxygen to heal.
Interview with the Wolf || Mary & Fenrir & the Pack
Although the war had raged for a year, Mary still found herself looking for different angles on stories. Unlike some other journalist (side eyeing you, Rita Skeeter) Mary truly tried to publish unbiased reports that provided information instead of rumors–which, of course, earned her both praise and scorn, and sometimes both combined into a backhanded compliment.
Mary didn’t doubt that she would catch a lot of flack for her newest story. With all of the talk of elitism and species bias, Mary’s interest in other species’ viewpoints had spiked. Unlike other members in the wizarding community, Mary didn’t mind nonhumans; why should she? If the Dark Lord had his way, she would soon find herself on the dangerous side of prejudice. Mary wanted to tell the truth, no matter how unpopular.
In that vein, she had arranged for several interviews with nonhumans; goblins, freed house elves, and even a vampire named Louis. Now, she was closing in on her last interview: a self-proclaimed werewolf. With such a stigma around lycanthropy, Mary had been surprised that any werewolf would voluntarily sit down and tell their experience. Even more surprisingly, her interviewee had agreed to allow the Prophet to publish his real name. The werewolf’s only request had been that Mary meet him in a small park outside of wizarding London, which she had readily accepted. This was an important interview, after all, concerning an even tougher subject; she would want to make the interviewee as comfortable as possible
However, when Gerard Cullen had stumbled up the path, a flask in his hand at 3:32 in the afternoon, Mary had begun to rethink her decision. She sat on the edge of the bench, crossing her feet at her ankles and whirling her quill as she studied the man that sat next to her. The werewolf leaned back easily in the bench, stretching out long limbs and looping his hands behind his head as a support. “What can I say? Being a werewolf is great,” Gerard said, grinning lazily. Golden locks fell over his bright blue eyes, and he flicked the strands out of the way so he could study Mary better.
“Can you give me a little more details? Tell me why you think that being a werewolf is so desirable?” Mary asked, meeting his gaze. “I want our readers to understand.”
Gerard shrugged. “It’s whatever, I guess. Hey are you going to take my picture for the Prophet?”
Mary blinked, and her brow creased in confusion. “Sorry, no. I want to protect you in case this doesn’t go the right way.” Gerard scowled at Mary’s comment, and shook his head.
“Listen, I’m doing you a favor. You should be grateful.”
Her intuition flared, and Mary matched Gerard’s scowl with her own. “I am. But you’ve got to give me a little bit of info here. You act like you’re hiding something.”
The man cringed and dropped his gaze, trying to hide the truth, but Mary caught the expression in his eyes. “You are hiding something.” She didn’t realize it, but her voice rose and she found herself standing and glaring down at Gerard. Something’s definitely wrong. Footsteps echoed on the path, but Mary didn’t bother to look up, keeping her attention locked on the impostor.
@raiserofwolves
The pups were hunting. Not for food, this time, but for fun. Fenrir had taken them out of town, to let them explore. They were excited to be out, to be exploring a world apart from the one they knew, and the fact that they were there meant that he was pleased with them. They’d been training hard, and they were happy that he was happy. There was an air of giddy hysteria as they played in the park, chasing each other, wrestling, playing with Kovu and Evan, sneaking snacks from picnics. They were having fun,
Theo had been the first one to find them, and had been quickly joined by Emma, and Thane. They could smell the scent of magic around them, and the word werewolf caught their attention, and now Mary’s interview had a small audience.
“This guy just wants to be in the newspaper, right?” Thane asked his brother, from the bush they were perched in, watching the conversation.
“Yeah. He’s not a werewolf. But why would someone pretend to be a werewolf?”
“Cus werewolves are great!” Emma piped in, clambering into Theo’s lap to try and get a better view. She’d been much more kind recently, much more cuddly, and he liked it. Emma had always been cruel, always been a little more vicious, and while she was a wolf, and it was to be expected, it was nice not to be bitten with no warning when you were cuddling up to your little sister.
“Werewolves are pretty great, but most people don’t think that.”
“Listen to him! He doesn’t know a fucking thing.” Thane lobbed a twig out of the bush, directly on his head. “Booo! You don’t know shit, mate!”
“Yeah! Loserrrr!” Emma joined in the stick-throwing, and Theo laughed, trying to stop her, gently. They were attracting attention, and they fell out of the bush, laughing. Emma scampered over to the bench, clambering onto the back of it, looming over the man, putting her hands in his hair to balance. “This guy is lying.” She said. “He’s jus’ a reguler normal person who wants to be a werewolf.”
“Emma?” She almost fell off the bench as Fenrir approached, and hid, giggling nervously. He looked between Gerard and Mary, for a moment, and then at Emma, before looking back at the journalist. “Sorry, I hope the kids aren’t getting in your way.” He gave her an easy smile, and looked over at his Beta and Omega, who were looking abashed. “They weren’t too much of a bother, were they?”
“This guy is mean!” Emma piped up from behind the bench, and Fenrir smiled, amused, shaking his head. He’d had a good time with the pups today. It was good to get away from the house every so often, to take them out into the world. To let them be kids, though of course, they were still wolves.
Werewolves.
“He who fears the wolf should never enter the forest.”
