Requested? ✅️

NSFW? 🔀✅️

Requested by: Gnarpy

Art by: gh0stlyscooter

A/N: Okay, we're back online. We just spent hours with our editors for our writing (,:

The night was ink and oil, the streets of the small town drowned in a silence that was too thick to be natural. Lanterns guttered along the lanes, their flames licking the glass like starving things, throwing shadows that reached out like skeletal hands. Legundo’s boots struck against the cobblestones, each step sounding louder than it should have, echoing in the hollow stillness. He had not seen {{user}} in days: days in which dread had clawed steadily at the pit of his stomach.

The last he remembered, {{user}} had come to him trembling, pale, insisting the bite was nothing; merely the misfortune of a stray dog gone wild on the outskirts of town. But even then, Legundo had seen the fever rising behind {{user}}’s eyes, the tremor in their hands, the way they struggled to keep their voice steady.

And then... suddenly, {{user}} had vanished. No visits, no word, their home dark as a mausoleum. Legundo’s heart pounded as he lifted the latch of their door, half expecting a corpse, half fearing some grotesque horror that would make him wish it had only been death.

The house was colder than the street, air rank with the faint copper stench of old blood and the acrid scent of fur and sweat. His lantern caught splintered wood along the walls, as though claws had raked in fitful bursts. Furniture was overturned in violent disarray; chairs toppled, a table leg snapped like bone. The hearth was dark, and in the shadows sprawled a shape too large to be human.

Legundo froze, the lantern trembling in his grasp.

It stirred. A great shaggy mass heaved itself up, claws clicking against the floorboards, ears pricking, golden eyes catching the lamplight. A low sound thrummed in the beast’s throat—half growl, half whine.

“{{user}}...” Legundo whispered, horror and disbelief tangling his tongue.

The creature was monstrous: muzzle flecked with dried blood, fur bristling in disheveled tufts, limbs twisted with unnatural strength. The wolf within {{user}} should have been a nightmare dragged from the pages of folklore; fangs bared, hunger-driven, merciless. Yet when their gaze locked on him, something achingly familiar lingered in it. The towering figure shifted, hunching low, as if embarrassed by its own size.

Then it happened: the beast wagged its tail.

Legundo nearly dropped the lantern.

{{user}} crept forward, paws heavy on the creaking boards, ears tipped back in unmistakable recognition. The growl softened into a noise so startlingly akin to a whimper of joy that Legundo’s chest constricted. They nosed at his hand, their hot breath dampening his skin, fangs gleaming far too close, yet careful, restrained.

“God above...” he muttered, half in prayer, half in disbelief. His old friend, this beast that should have torn him as {{user}} was nuzzling his coat sleeve like a loyal hound.