#werewolfdaryl

[vaebun]

Beasty is a messy eater

Slightly inspired by If I Had a Heart by Ilerre and any monster/supernatural Daryl headcannons

NOTES:

-if the shading is weird, I’m sorry, I got high and did this.

-perspectives are hard

[vaebun]

Honey, don’t feed it,

It will come back

more of Beasty: Courting Gift?

NOTES: -I forgot his coating of dirt and blood 😔 -I referenced Scud’s scars on his stomach

If you have any suggestions (critiques, questions), please let me know :)

[apocalypseroses-blog]

“What are you doin’ here, man?” Daryl asked gruffly, stuffing his fingertips in his ratty old back pockets and shuffling around uncomfortably. He didn’t know how Rick could stand it here. Now, Daryl wasn’t some kinda primadonna who ate his meat off’a fine china or some shit…

 If it was just that Rick was rolling around in humans’ particular brand of filth and squalor, then that’d be different. But he was eatin’ their food, enjoying their entertainment, filling his head with their ideas… Runnin’ with ‘em.

 A shudder went through him.

 He knew Rick had it tough. His dam was a full-blooded wolf, and most mixed pups were miscarried or born still. Most of the wolves in the world were full-blood or bit, and they never had to worry about “walkin’ a fine line between worlds” or whatever shit. It just was what it was for most’a their kind. But Rick’s sire’d been a delicate, “gentle” man, and Rick inherited a surprising amount’a that.

 Daryl looked back over his shoulder, his visible blue eye accusing. Rick was only half paying attention to him. Daryl always showed up unannounced, and Rick was always busy studying this or that, about human history or governments or literature.

 The literature Daryl had learned was blood and mud brushed on the wall from the tips of filthy fur and the tips of aching claws, soft old wood remembering the sounds of animal screams. Wolves didn’t write their history in funny little books you traded pieces of wood pulp for in the shop.

 “Don’t know what’cha mean…” Rick mumbled back, flipping a page. Daryl turned his back to the wall by the window and leaned back against it, crossing his arms and regarding Rick critically.

 He’d seen Rick naked in the moonlight more times’n he could count, painting with sweat shining on his skin, neck thrown back and gulping for air after a long run, fingertips trembling and brushing over the dewy grass, hunched forward.

 It was a sight better than Rick sittin’ on his tiny little bed, one leg curled up under him and the other danglin’ down, clad in light blue jeans and prim T-shirt, curly hair freshly washed, tickling his neck…

 On second thought, Rick always looked good. He attracted people in a way Daryl could never. He emitted an air of safeness. Daryl’s eyes softened a smidge.

 Then they wandered down to the snapshot of the human bitch lying on his desk.

 “What’re you still doin’ with that bitch, man?” He adjusted his question abruptly, swinging back to the window.

 “I told you not to call her that,” Rick growled back, a hint of steel in his voice. Daryl’s ears pricked interestedly. He resisted the urge to glance back over his shoulder to see if he’d finally got Rick’s eyes off his damn textbook, to rest on his figure. Instead, he stretched up, resting his strong hands on the curtain rod.

 He wondered if Rick’s eyes were on’im, tracing the ripple of muscle across his well-worked back. He was long past feeling bashful or ‘fraid of it. Him and Rick were far past that.

 “’S what she is, and ‘s not who you are,” Daryl said stubbornly. A violent snarl erupted behind him, and Daryl whirled back around, covering his back. Rick tossed his textbook aside and jumped up to balance precariously on all four of his uneven human limbs, but Daryl was on top of him in an instant. The challenge sang in the air, in his blood. He was the first to pounce at a challenge. He would never be jumped first, Rick knew that.

 He felt his teeth elongate as his lips wrenched open in an answering snarl, and he had Rick pinned down on the tiny twin bed, new claws pressing Rick’s right wrist straight down into the mattress, and the other against Rick’s jugular, thumb resting on his pulse. His body vibrated with energy and power.

 Rick didn’t buck or struggle, but his free hand shot up to clench painfully around Daryl’s neck and halfway in his hair. Daryl’s knee dug into Rick’s exposed belly, and they both glared at each other for a moment.

 Rick was the first to go limp and glance to the side in uncomfortable defeat, probably because Daryl was right. Daryl didn’t release him right away—he was still learning that he and Rick didn’t always have to follow all the way through for the balance of power to be restored. It was a lesson that went against all the others he’d learned. Rick suddenly dropped his hand from Daryl’s shoulder to try and shove his thigh off, but Daryl wasn’t budging. Rick’s features had returned to pure human, but Daryl still stared down at him with burning gold eyes and long fangs, face slightly distorted.

 “It’s how it’s gotta be,” Rick said weakly, then glanced up accusingly, “thought we agreed not to talk about it no more.”

 “Say that like you mean it,” Daryl growled in challenge, shifting his leg so that it was on the bed on Rick’s other side, so he was straddling him. His knee brushed Rick’s side where his shirt had rode up. Heat hung enticingly between them, as it always had, lancing up the line of their parallel bodies. Rick contemplated that for a moment, staring up with pained eyes.

 Daryl didn’t need his pain. What was between them was between them. He tipped his head aggressively. Rick took his chance, with his lower half and left arm free, to make a mighty effort to flip them over.

 Daryl let out a bark of pain as his head collided with the wall, but Rick had him pinned effectively in a minute, eyes flashing yellow as he applied himself. Daryl relaxed, flipping his head to the side in disappointment as Rick hovered over him. Daryl could smell that Rick wanted him, was clamping down on it hard to fulfil his perceived duty or some shit. He wanted to roll his hips up to meet him, but they’d been down that road before…

 He kept his throat exposed, letting Rick stare at it while their chests heaved between them. The afternoon light glittered innocently through the small window of Rick’s prison.

 “It’s gotta be this way, I’m sorry, but it’s gotta be this way,” Rick mumbled, wrecked, and dropped his nose down to nuzzle at the juncture of Daryl’s neck.

 “Still don’t sound like you mean it,” Daryl hissed, then, “get off’a me. I gotta go.”

 “Daryl—”

 Daryl ripped an arm free and cuffed Rick hard across the head, making him tumble to the side. He extracted himself with some difficulty, bounding to the door before turning back to be greeted by the sight of Rick staring after him with big, tired blue eyes, rubbing his temple.

 “Ya only get to pin me down b’cuz I wan’ you to,” Daryl spat, pacing a few steps, “But you don’ deserve it. Can’t even think for yourself on one thing.”

 Then he turned and slammed the door open, stalking out into the cramped hallway and dodging a few studious or smilin’ humans on his way to the elevator.

 He felt Rick’s eyes on his back as he left. They both knew he’d be back in a couple weeks after he’d run it out and heard the end of it from Merle, and it would be as if nothing had happened, but for now, all he could feel was helpless anger.

 The picture would only be made more perfect if he submitted to his own family’s wants and impregnated some random bitch to settle in and expand their race with stupid pups.

[apocalypseroses-blog]

“Come on! We gotta go!” Merle snarled, swinging his arm out to indicate the dead body lying on the ground. Daryl’s eyes were fixated on it, wide. When he glanced up, even Merle’s eyes were dilated with something like confusion and terror, and not anger, as usual. The whole room seemed to be swinging back and forth like a pendulum, but Daryl realized he was just shifting around on his feet restlessly, pacing without ever turning his body away from the beast.

“HEY—”

“What the fuck is that?!” Daryl interrupted him, pointing, as if it needed clarifying. The copious amount of blood on his arm splashed off with the sudden movement, spraying the corpse with little red droplets. They hadn’t used their jaws—it smelled rank. Poisoned. They hadn’t even transformed completely to dispatch the thing. It just stumbled in like it owned the place and tried to take a bite out of them.

They should have noticed it earlier, but with half the dead and rotting things they were still cleaning out of pa’s house, they hadn’t thought much of it. The real question was…

“Where the fuck did it come from? Town?” Rick flashed through his mind, and his heartrate doubled. Rick was capable for a half, but he’d get himself killed trying to protect his little human friends. Would he know not to use his teeth? Rick’s only backup was Shane… Not comforting. “I gotta go backup Rick,” Daryl decided.

He snapped out of his half-daze when he felt a fist collide with his face. He stumbled back several steps, seeing stars, then red. His senses spiked sharper; he was instinctively transforming in response to the violence, eyes turning yellow and nails growing long and sharp, back hunching forward.

“Control yourself, boy! Listen to me! We gotta go!” Merle barked, leaping forward to cuff him again. Daryl stumbled back, glaring. Rick—

Merle infused his movements with canine speed, more aggressive than Daryl could keep up with at the moment. Merle wasn’t used to Daryl resisting his dominance, and Daryl wasn’t used to Merle springing to violence so quickly.

Another cracking punch across the face, and Daryl went down.

“Sorry little brother, but we gotta go. No time for half-baked romances with half-breeds…”

The world faded to black.

[apocalypseroses-blog]

“Humans’re startin’ to smell funny,” Daryl snapped, stalking back and forth across the tile floor like a caged animal. When Rick didn’t immediately respond, his eyes snapped over, flinty and defensive, wondering if Rick didn’t think so too.  But Rick was just sprawled out on the narrow bed, on his back with his legs bent under him, threadbare t-shirt riding up to expose a strip of his belly, which was cut long-ways by the neon yellow setting sun and cross-ways by the blinds. His face was obscured by some flimsy little spiral-bound booklet. Must be damn interesting, Daryl thought, huffing and moving over to the window. He yanked the blinds apart impatiently, looking down at the humans hobbling about down below.  “... Think you’re imaginin’ things,” Rick finally replied with his slow, churning voice, flipping a page. Every word sounded measured and deliberate, not quicksilver like Merle. ‘S why he was here in the first place, visiting Rick in this hellhole. He’d pay for it later.  “Think your human bitch is makin’ you stupid,” Daryl hissed back scathingly, vibrating with nervous energy. Words slurred off his tongue faster, the angrier he got. He felt Rick’s eyes pin him from behind, finally.  “You have somethin’ to get off your chest?” Rick asked levelly. Paper crinkled as he set the book down on his stomach.  “Nah man, do what you have to do,” Daryl dismissed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The grassy grounds rolled away from this brick dorm building, off to sports fields and clusters of classroom buildings and further off to the residences and then into the thick trees. He abruptly released the blinds and turned back around.  As soon as he came in here, it felt like a human cage. As soon as he looked out, it felt like a sanctuary. As long as Rick’s dumbass roommate didn’t bumble back in. It was fine ‘s long as Rick stayed here. Or maybe it was fine ‘s soon as he regrouped with Merle.  “World’s just changin’ is all.” Daryl insisted, pressing his back towards the corner instinctively. The shadows grew steadily longer.