Continued. @lorcanthropy

Continued. @lorcanthropy

“I was readin’” he said, holding up the physics book in his hand. He hadn’t had a formal education since leaving England, but he had always wanted to continue his studies, he had a mind for it.

Behance / Garmonique

You’ve been given something that most people would kill for. The bite is a gift.

Fenrir Greyback (via hpconversations)

@dominxsus

Douglas took pause at the sight of the other man, he looked young but gave of a distinctly different air, something old and dangerous. He knew Mal was dangerous too, but it was different. O’Malley was like an old hound. The tanned man on the other side of the gym was more like a wolf, raw and freightening power waved off of him as if the moon were high in the sky and Douglas felt... well, envious. Never once in his sad and sorry existence did he have an ounce of the confidence, or obvious ability.

Still, he had no intention of approaching the other wolf, no. He was terrified of him enough at a distance. And so, he went back about this sweeping of the gym floor. Cleaning was about the only thing he could do in return for the free lodgings. He wasn’t useful like Daz, couldn’t fight, couldn’t cook, couldn’t scare off unsavory clients. But he could clean, and answer the phone, and keep track of the going ons. He could keep himself busy and out of Mal’s hair. He’d already threatened to hit him once or twice.

stayedgentle:

He stepped closer and she leaned away instinctively. It was nothing against him – Jane knew he was only trying his best, after all – but to a girl who’s only just above five feet tall, anyone seems a giant, especially when they’re a stranger. 

She shook her head at the offer of a hug, but mumbled something that sounded like a thank you as she drew her hands over her face, trying to force herself to calm down. Jane simply didn’t have time to break down right now. She had to be home before midnight. Those were the rules, and she knew the penalty for breaking them well.

    “You’re not making me uncomfortable,” she said. Because that much was true. Though her hands shook and the tears – irritatingly – would not stop, he was helping. “I just– I don’t know, I need… I need to get home.”

He backed away slightly and punched in for a Lyft in his phone. It wasn’t really money he had to spend, but this was a special circumstance and Daz had to understand, or maybe he’d just take the yelling later, accept that it was the cost of doing what Duggy knew to be right.

“I ordered us a ride. Make sure to get you home safe, ya? I’m not good with... I don’t know what to do with... women. Just me and my brother at home. Haven’t exactly had to deal with much cryin’ less it was me. You’re gonna be alright, tho? I wouldn’t want ta just drop you off a mess, doubt your parents would much like that.”

lorcanthropy:

He couldn’t use one of his arms, it was just…laying there at his side, useless until it healed itself. That might take a while, a while he didn’t have with four corpses on his floor. Mal felt terrible, but not for the death he’d just caused, but for the pup standing in front of him, he could smell the fear swirling in the air, dancing with the acrid iron of the scent of blood. It was obvious that, aside from the attack that had changed him, he’d never seen the world for more than what he’d seen, and he’d never been anywhere, never done anything. 

Spitting the coppery substance from his mouth, he turned a bit, face ripped here and there, the boy was obviously in shock. “No, no. Stop.” his working hand came up to the boy’s face, grabbing it firmly but with a gentility, “Doug, it’s fine. They’re not goin’ anywhere, right now, I ne–need yer help.” That was when the adrenaline gave out, his legs became jelly and Mal found himself holding onto the tall young lad for dear life. “That were bleedin’ t–terrifyin’, I know.” He coughed, he needed to sit. “Help me t'my couch over there…" 

When he felt the leather beneath him, he kept a grip on Duggy’s arm, not letting him leave as the fear was still clogging his nostrils. "Oi, look.” Mal had never been a father before, and his own had been terrible, but somehow he slogged through the pain, the wish to just fall dead-ass asleep right now, “What I did out there? That’ll never happen t'yeh. Not by my hand. You and yer brother, yeah? Yer… Yer my pack now, all right? Y'get that? Means I protect yeh, an’ I’ll teach yeh all I know. ” it was getting harder to fight it the will to pass out.

“Sit with me here, he–” another cough, another spit of blood, “help me clean up, me arm’s busted for at least another hour. We’ll clean up t'gether in a bit, right?”

He didn’t flinch or pull from Mal’s touch, just raised his eyes enough to look at the shorter wolf. No matter the 5 inch difference, Douglas hadn’t felt so fucking small in his life. But he still reacted quickly to keep Mal upright. His heart pounded now, for more than one reason. The intention of this hadn’t been that finding a father to replace the ones that had left him. He had Daz, and that was enough, to him at least. He just needed to know, to control the wolf, to be in control of himself. He had some many questions Daz couldn’t answer, but this, this felt like what he should have heard from his father. This felt like family.

He was careful as he lowered Mal to the leather couch, the thought of how easy it would be to clean later in the far back of his mind. He kept his eyes on him as he spoke, promising that he would share the fate of the beast who were little more than stains on the gym floor now. He gave him a short nod, a nod was how this trouble began. He bit down on his cheek as he moved to sit beside the bloody mess that was Mal.

“What do you want me to do?” he ask quietly, “How do I help? I’ve never... I’ve never seen a fight that.. vicious.” that was putting it lightly. christ. He looked Mal over, all of the scars, lacierations, the pain on his face. He was supposed to be a tough bastard, and seeing him weak was no comfort.