Hellhound AU

[just_aces]

Sometime round about 1900, a witch summoned a hellhound as a familiar.

He didn't mind it, hellhounds are loyal after all, and if some of her spells left him tired and drained, well, that was what he was there for, to keep her from using too much of her own energy for things. That and to eat the souls of her victims, sometimes.

But then, in the early 1970s, she ran afoul of a much stronger coven.

She was quite quickly banished to hell, but the hellhound couldn't be allowed to go with her, because, well, hellhounds are loyal and she was powerful and would have been able to use him to escape.

So the hellhound was made human, figuring that sixty, seventy, even eighty years if he was lucky would be enough time for the witch to have been consumed, so that even when the human-that-had-been-a-hellhound died, and Death herself realized that he was definitely not where, or what, he was supposed to be, she'd send him back.

But then one Charles Rowland kind of fucked up that whole plan by dying young and immediately running away from Death herself.

So the ghost-who-was-the-boy-who-was-the-hellhound has no idea what he was, or still is, under it all.

But, after a trip through hell to save his best friend (Hellhounds are loyal, after all) and time spent in a familiar position -though not a familiar kitchen- after that has been enough to knock a few things loose...

Comments

[uptightboy]

"It was... It was bloody brills," Edwin let out a relieved, empty sigh and leaned into the touches. He found he liked to be here. He liked to have Charles under him, he liked them entangled like this; with more than collars and bonds, but with something else. "Welcome back, Charles," Edwin smiled nuzzling at the boy's cheek, then slowly attempted to tidy him up.

[just_aces]

He couldn't help the soft laugh at that, turning to nuzzle Edwin's ear in return, just because he could and it felt like the right thing to do. He helped with getting himself put together again, but didn't make any move to get up after that, hands resting on Edwin's thighs once more, having long since decided that he quite liked feeling the play of muscle under his hands just as much as he'd liked feeling those legs tighten against his hips earlier, and could only imagine how much he'd like them actually wrapped around his waist.

But he was doing his best not to think about that just at the moment, that was something to consider later.

Perhaps surprisingly, Charles looked less tired than he had even when he'd first woken from his nap, certainly not back to his full sunny demeanor just yet, but not as far from it as he had been. The cheekiness had definitely returned, as evidenced by running a finger along the lower edge of the collar, transferring the energy of one of the bangles -and it still amused him that the volume was set but he could distribute it however he wanted- to a row of dangling scales, not quite chimes, but still clinking together soft and musical when he moved, "C'mon. We've got an office to make presentable and a trip to the campus to take."