#//only purebred monsters cause he's him

[waeirfaahl]

My thoughts about Steele from "Balto" (1995)

Another unexpected topic for discussion. Steele never was in the list of my favourite characters/antagonists, but since I already made lots of Balto related posts, why not to discuss about Steele? I never liked this character even as a villain, because it was stereotypical arrogant bully without any interesting nuances or depth/complexity with absolutely lame and anti-climaxing defeat, and the problem was even worse, because the main character didn't kick his ass (my frustrations about this aspect you can read here). Most part of potential interesting nuances were erased due to the voice of Jim Cummings (the legendary badass chameleon of voice acting), who replaced Brendan Fraiser (he originally voiced Steele). Steele sounds evil from the beginning, so you expect from him something dangerous from the beginning. With Fraiser's voice, I think, we could see his path from just arrogant popular bully-narcissist to the sadistic psychopath and murderer, i.e. it would be more subtle and hence terrifying, we would see his falling into madness and becoming full monster he previously hid within.

What astounds and amuses me (even makes me laugh) — many fans in attempt to explain/justify Steele's hatred toward Balto create some kind of "tragic backstory", where either "Steele's parent(s) were killed by wolves" or "Steele and Balto had one dog parent, so they're half-brothers, and Steele as elder son was abandoned by the dog parent in favor of Balto" or whatever, other fans simply reduce Steele to just ignorant and egocentric racist or xenophob, who hates Balto 'cause Balto is different and half-wolf. What if I say that both sides are wrong? If humans (except of Rosie) and dogs (except of Jenna and maybe Star and Doc) are ignorant and racist/xenophobic and hence cruel toward Balto, so they always rejected him, Steele hates Balto for absolutely different reasons that have absolutely no relation to racism or xenophoby. No, even simpler — Steele started to hate Balto after the certain events. Before these events Steele ignored Balto and basically knew nothing about him except of vague "some wolf-like stray mutt".

Steele is a selfish narcissist, sadist, manipulator, psychopath and liar with megalomania and complete permissiveness. His entire motivation and core are vanity and desire for glory, he wants to be the famous and beloved champion for all to his death. He won in races for already 4 years, hence he is an aging champion, who doesn't want to share or to loose his place and status. And for either saving his status or for not letting his status to someone else, he will kill a rival and even own sled team without any hesitation. You could notice, how he harmed the rival sled dog team, when they almost outran him, you could notice his reaction at how Balto, catching Rosie's hat on the track, unintentionally outran him and hence "ruined" his triumphal finishing, so Steele started to bully Balto and his friends (Boris and Jenna, for example). And, well, as I once pointed out, Steele is a coward, who can attack only weak ones.

You could notice his rage at Balto's line "I was the fastest dog!" and how he immediately insulted him with the line "You was the fastest what?!" (i.e. it's not a simple "You're not a dog, you're a wolf, so you have to be with wolves, go to wolves", it's a moral crushing and dehumanization like "You're worthless and dirty abomination, not a living being with rights"). And, yes, as I said before, Steele doesn't care about Balto's origin, Steele doesn't care about wolf blood in Balto. If Balto was a full-blood dog, either stray mongrel or domestic purebred husky, Steele would bully him no matter what, finding his other weak spots. Steele as an aging champion feels in Balto a rival, the young and talented rival with truly noble and heroic soul and with better qualities (for example, fast run), but since humans and dogs reject and don't trust Balto for being half-wolf, and 'cause Balto himself is ashamed of his wolf heritage, Steele uses it against Balto, morally crushing him with focusing on his "worthless" wolf roots (and also insulting Balto's mother for falling in love with a wolf) and using it to demonize Balto in humans' eyes even more, cutting any chances for Balto to show his talents to humans and hence to become a sled dog and a new leader and champion, in Steele's worldview stealing his (Steele) place, victory, status and role. That's it, nothing more. Steele is a narcissist and psychopath, who cares only about own ego and glory, he respects nobody, he loves only himself. Plus, according to the novel, Steele never had any real feelings to females, Jenna interested him simply 'cause she was red and never felt anything toward him ("Jenna will succumb to his charms — after all, didn't everyone?"), i.e. it was just a challenge and a game for him, where Jenna is another trophey and a way how Steele can feed his own ego and use her for his pleasure.

Plus, for making Balto's life worse, Steele also intentionally started to harrass Jenna, i.e. it is a fixation like "This stray young brat will never win in anything. I'll deprive him of anything what can make him happy. He dared to ruin my authority in eyes of my owner and other humans and dogs!". That's the core of the antagonist, who cares only about own ego. The closest character to Steele is Darla Dimple from Cats Don't Dance — spoiled, cruel, hypocritical and arrogant human actress, who cares only about own ego, glory and public perception of her as a kind and gentle hero, and she'd ready even to kill, if she sees somebody, whose talents can overshadow her.

And you probably wonder — who is responsible for what Steele is? Why he is egocentric, glory-hound and spoiled sadist? Who is to blame? Well, I think, I know the answer — Steele's musher is the main reason of what Steele is and why. Have you ever noticed how Steele gets rid of the rival sled team, and his musher never punishes him for this? Have you ever noticed, how Steele provokes Balto to fight, and Steele's musher ignores this and Steele's inadequate reaction toward Balto, and how Steele's musher literally mocks on Balto, firstly pretending to be a kind guy, who wants to pet Balto as the winner and perfectly knows that Balto is a half-wolf and that Balto didn't attack or harm dogs during running, but after Steele hurted Balto, the musher immediately started this "I can't trust to him. He's a part wolf! He could turn on me!"?

He spoiled his dog and allowed to Steele to do everything he wants, at the same time psychologically mistreating, when Steele doesn't jump for his standarts and expectations. And since no musher demanded a rematch, Steele's musher most likely is the richest guy of Nome and the most famous in sled races. Arrogant and ignorant asshole, who called Steele as the one who loses his form just 'cause Balto outran him on the short 100 meters near the finish. Yep, he blames the dog that ran in sled race for many miles...

And the same thing with other dogs — the dogs from the rival team told nothing about how Steele harmed them during the race to others — classic "Don't demonize the all-loved champion". I also can confidently tell that Steele and his musher were based on Seppala, who (despite many really awesome accomplishments — for example, how he made sled dog races popular, how he made many world records and travelled in Alaska, how he made Siberian Huskies a breed etc) was gloryhound asshole, who didn't believe not only in Balto, but also even in Togo (when he was a pup). Steele is a manifestation of Seppala's arrogance, while Steele's musher is a manifestation of Seppala's ignorance. It's interesing, how Simon Wells, the director of the original Balto, describes Steele: "Steele was basically the quarterback of the football team. He was the god because everybody said he was a god. I saw Steele as the kid who misunderstands his role in the world and suffers from jealousy and anger issues. We originally envisaged Steele as the most popular kid in school; the king of the jocks. He has always been the best, and never had to really work to maintain his position. In a word: cover-confident. Never having had to try very hard, he is not ready for adversity when it confronts him, and his grip on right and wrong goes away as soon as he is rattled.".

This information gives interesting nuances to the character and partially confirms my assumption that exactly the musher made Steele what he is now. Steele perfectly knows that he has only the mask of the hero, but no matter how he will deny this fact, he'll never become the hero with real talents and noble qualities, it's fake, it always was and always will be the fake just like all those golden collars, especially the one he won in this 4th race, sabotaging another team. That's why he hates Balto — Balto has everything, except of humans' trust and love, the jewel hides within the wolf body everybody views as dangerous, while in Steele's case — nothing, only rotten and ugly abomination hides within "attractive body of the dog sportsman".

Well, we could get way more, if Steele's death scene was kept and handled a bit better. Many people find this scene brutal, cruel and very dark, but... I disagree. The scene, which was the perfect end for Steele's arc with his golden collar that symbolized his lie, hubris and madness and led him to his demise (dogs ordered to Steele to give his collar to Balto, 'cause Balto is worthy one, but Balto refuses to take this collar 'cause he doesn't need this, as well as Steele in anger refused to do this as well), how he dies from suffocation and then crushing by tons of coals that bury his body to death... well, was quite stupid for certain reasons.

First of all, Steele dies due to own stupidity, 'cause he again attacked Balto in attempt to murder him, but accidentally missed and caught the collar on the lever, which strangled him and opened the hatch with coals. It's not poetic death, it's a comedy of "Tucker and Dale vs Evil" level.

Second, Balto as an idiot worries about Steele and mourns on him. Yep... he feels bad for the asshole that brutally bullied him and tried to murder several times... WHY?! I despise all-forgiving pacifistic protagonists... And third, it's funny that the mood of the scene is in "Dogs and Balto in fear and horror look at last seconds of Steele's life, they can do nothing", despite the fact that Balto and other dogs from his team could leave the harness, so they could do something, if they so wanted to help him.

I don't think that the crew deleted this scene due to dark content, I think that they rejected this idea due to budget limits.

Do you want to hear my assumptions and interpretations of Steele's backstory? Well, in addition to how the musher spoiled and mistreated him at the same time, I would assume that Steele was a replacement of the musher's previous dog he kinda really loved and considered as the perfect sled dog, maybe they even looked almost the same, so no wonder, why "Steele was the god 'cause everybody said he's a god" — perfect addition to the idea with the mask, the fake hero mask. Plus, I kinda like the idea that Balto's husky mother also was the musher's pet and best lead dog, so Steele either was under her command in the team or they were leaders together and he even wanted to be her mate, but since she fell in love with a wolf, the musher started to hate her for "betrayal" and made Steele the sole lead dog of the team, as well as Steele hated her for her choice, and they both took out their anger on Balto for his mother's choice, while Balto even had no idea about that. It sticks to the idea of Steele's fear to lose his place to Balto, who, becoming the famous sled dog, can return his dead mother's honor she was deprived of by hypocritical humans and dogs (what Steele obviously didn't want — Balto was the reminder for Steele about his own inner emptyness and worthlessness, about how Balto's mother chose a wolf over Steele, and Steele also sees in Balto not only the husky "traitor" he kinda loved, but also Steele saw in Balto the wolf, who "stole" her from Steele). And, well, since Balto accepted his wolf nature and saved Rosie and other kids and became hero, he succeeded in this.

With these nuances and details, I think, the character would be more fleshed and complex, as well as his arc and death really would be emotional, dark and heart-breaking. As well as Balto's sadness about Steele's death and also intention to help him and to give a chance despite all Steele's malice to Balto and others would make sense in such conditions, if Balto vaguely heard that his mother and Steele once were close friends. The contrast between love and forgiveness and grudge and hatred or whatever. Balto is kind and open-minded as a young who can change, while Steele is deluded and stuck in as an old who can't change. That's what I thought about the character in the movie.

[monstercampus]

Which monster would you say is the biggest? And how big are they compared to the Human Reader?

The biggest you would find on campus would probably be the stone colossus in the science building! A colossus can grow to be anywhere between 30-120 feet (although the latter is much rarer) and the one on campus is about 35-45, depending on whether he's hunched over or not. Most monster students don't even realize that he's not a statue because he's only active after curfew, and all he does is patrol for anyone trying to break in, but he's been around so long that that particular building was constructed to fit his size. The Kraken would be pretty close to this as well, although its size is almost impossible to measure as most of its body is buried in the bottom of the lake and only its tentacles usually make an appearance. In general monster communities, most people consider anglermaids to be the largest monster species in the world; although they're quite rare, a fully-grown anglermaid can be as large as two adult blue whales at over 200ft long, although there have been cases documented in which a handful of deep-sea anglermaids have reached up to nearly 300ft. While the males are much more common, they're usually only about the size of an average human or smaller, often clocking in at around 5" even to 5'5" on the larger end of the scale.

Aside from campus and the general monster populace, however, the biggest monsters in history would be the titans. Although they're nearly extinct at this point so they're incredibly rare, plus the few that do have titan blood have interbred for so long that they're usually only a bit bigger than the species they've mixed with. But the one and only purebred titan that's still around would be Chaos, who's also (supposedly) the largest being of any realm in the world. Not that anyone that's alive today has actually seen him, since even the gods of the Holy Lands and the Underworld haven't met or communed with Chaos--but considering the fact that his roaring cries can shake the heavens, and the rattling of his fists in his immortal shackles have caused so many tremors and disasters on the earth's surface over many millennia, it's no surprise that The Pits are only fit for the most despicable souls to be sent to to join him. Chaos has taken up so much space that his stomach growling can be heard by whatever pitiful soul has approached, and the screams of them being torn apart by the titan ruffle the feathers of even the highest archangels in the realm above. Chaos might not even notice you if you stood next to him, because you'd probably measure up to nothing more than a blade of grass in comparison.

[hopeful-hugz]

♔

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🕯️ Okay so I'm sticking to this blog's muses for now and since I don't play favourites in general. I'll just talk about one of the muses that has had my braincell lately.

So, Leah! A muse I have yet to draw a reference for. His original iteration was made on Discord cause I wanted to expand more on the aethers' opposite species, nagete. That soon evolved into my wanting to test aether-nagete hybrids as well and expand on that.

I tend to test a lot of storylines with close friends on Discord so I can bring a more fine-tuned version of things here for you. I did that with Maria and Leah is another example of that.

Leah in particular I've struggled developing beyond him being a permanent antagonist on the blog.

His goals are horrific and terrible (something I'm not spoiling) and has accepted playing the role as the villain for the sake of that. But he really is just a guy who wants to run his radio, tv and online shows with his cast. He's a gameshow host mainly, but he's got some other things he films for the air too, more often than not having a live show or three every night when his shows are available.

Currently he's got a small group of four that make up his main cast!

Amygdala is one of them! Leah made her shortly after he ended up self-corrupting into a mix breed hybrid. Mixing nagete shadow manifestation and Hope's own DNA, she is to epitome of a stoic mad scientist and is responsible for making any beasts and creatures that are used for security and the games Leah hosts. Treats every creation like they're her pets.

The other two I can't go into much since they aren't officially debuted here yet and are written by a friend, but they are Leah's co-host and his best friend. Folks he originally thought would be interesting to save from a "bad end" timeline of their universe.

Originally he was gonna be "just the bad guy for this episode." Now he's attached and has lowkey started to make the amusement park grounds, the tower at it's centre where shows are filmed and the living spaces at the top of the tower a home he and his cast can use even after his plans come to fruition.

Lost Now Found from HOAAR is a good song for him regarding his Cast.

As far as his relationship with Cam, Hope and Teal, it's not a good one.

Leah originally tracked the two siblings down in regards to his investigations regarding Maria and the interest he took in her life, story and legacy. Things didn't exactly work out and he put them in a state of distress instead.

Naturally this got Chamyle's attention and made Leah pay dearly for even laying a metaphorical hand on them. [He's still salty about that and Cam's job as The Archivist having meant she was keeping an eye on him. Now he's more than aware of her "passing" and has instead directed that Pettiness towards Melody.]

Despite this, Hope still gave him another chance. The two talked for a while after that incident, exchanging questions on their views and goals. Until Hope gave him- a purebred nagete at the time- an answer to a question that made him start thinking. Too much logic can start turning an aether into a nagete or completely hybrid them; something that is considered the worst fate for any aether and nagete and something incredibly taboo.

In reaction to this, Leah snapped and had a breakdown. In the midst of said breakdown, he not only kidnapped Hope- having blamed her for the change- and demanded she fix him. When she couldn't, he decided if he was going down he'd take multiple universes with him. He really wasn't in his right mind at the time and even he will admit that if you ask.

Teal was the one to solve this issue and get back Hope. Still bears an aggressive view on the host; believing him to be a heartless monster who's only true goal is destruction.

Hope is terrified of Leah and tries her best to avoid him when possible. Though she doesn't hate him. If anything she feels sorry for him.

Leah still blames Hope for his hybrid state and hates her for it. Heavily dislikes Teal because of him being one of Maria's experiments among other petty things. He won't hesitate to actively mess with either sibling and will often do elaborate things to them just out of that hate and because he finds it amusing and interesting.

As far as the rest of the multiverse?

He's a heavy believer in people being free to do whatever they want or they should be given the power to wield autonomy. It's the main motivator behind his current overarching plan.

He takes freedom very seriously and treats his usual contestants and guests with that. Picking on a volunteer basis and making sure people know what they are getting into (and that they may not leave the studio ever again should they participate in certain games.)

But he can't tell the multiverse this. Doesn't care to with how bored and tired of everything he truly is. It has to stay all behind-the-scenes. He's their enemy of the multiverse; the Big Bad Evil Guy! The Villain!!

People need to believe he's such so they can come up with their own reasoning behind his actions.

He knows the path he's taking, but he's taking it of his own free will.

[flowersofthedead]

@autumnisc​ -  ...... I'm tossing Maxine to your responsibility then if you're an available daddy.

“That’s for monsters only, Humans don’t get that luxury, No matter who or what they are.”

[quiet-moth]

Modern/Accidental Witcher!Jaskier AU backstory

So this definitely turned out much more elaborate than I was planning, but I never could keep things simple 😬 I’ll most likely write a fic eventually, but for now here’s some brainspew of my little AU! (NSFW elements)

The setting is modern, but monsters/magical creatures are still a big problem and threat to civilization so it’s common to have Witcher response units in towns to take care of monster threats. (Like firefighters, so shirtless Witcher calendars are definitely a thing)

After graduating at Oxenfurt, Jaskier moves to Cintra and gets a job at a botanical cafe (owned by Triss, next door to her girlfriend Yenn’s magic services shop [she does magical tattoos too]) that also lets him perform his music some nights. A pack of Witchers come in to get coffee at the cafe pretty much every day, so Jaskier gets to know them over time. (Pack consists of Vesemir, Geralt, Lambert, Eskel; and sometimes Coen and Aiden, but they’re part of other regions’ Witcher response units and only come by to help sometimes or visit.)

They’re all instantly smitten with this ball of sunshine of course. They often invite him to sit at the table with them while they have their lunch and coffee and they tell him stories about the monsters they’ve taken care of that week. Which he starts writing songs about. He play flirts with all of them as he does with all his friends, but especially hones in on quiet observer Geralt, who he is particularly endeared to. 

They ask Jaskier to babysit Ciri one night during an ‘all hands on deck’ monster situation (Triss and Yenn included, who help out with the magic side of it sometimes) since he’s the only one they trust with their precious bundle of joy (her parents made Geralt her godfather after he saved them from a monster, so Ciri went to live with the pack after her parents died). Ciri adores Jaskier and demands he visit more often, so he starts hanging out at the ‘Witcher HQ’ and basically becomes an honorary member of the pack.

Geralt and Jaskier get closer and more flirty after he starts hanging out at Witcher HQ, and eventually they start fucking. The morning after one such session of extracurricular activities, Jaskier wakes up feeling ill and feverish, which he just assumes is a random flu or something. Geralt lets him stay while he recovers. (Nursemaid Geralt, anyone?)

Then Jaskier’s hair starts turning white, his right eye turns gold and he grows lil fangs. He’s also a bit stronger and a lot more agile than he used to be, and his senses are suddenly enhanced and overwhelming. Both of them freak out of course because they have no idea what happened. They go ask Vesemir who is also like ‘haha what the fuck’ and he goes and reads one of his old tomes.

Most Witchers are intentionally made through genetically modified embryos these days, because it’s more guaranteed to ensure a healthy purebred Witcher, but in previous centuries there were other ways they were made as well. Come to find out, the Witcher mutagens are transmittable through blood transfusion or sexual means, but only in special circumstances. Jaskier happens to have a specific rare gene that the mutagens take to and is now irreversibly half-Witcher.

Jaskier is a tad freaked out at first by all these sudden changes, handles it like the dramatic bitch he is, and tries to restore some normalcy, which really doesn’t work out for him. But he eventually accepts that his life now revolves around the dangerous supernatural world of the Witchers instead of an at least within-the-ballpark-of a normal life in the music industry.

Ciri is, of course, delighted by this turn of events and Jaskier’s permanent move to Witcher HQ. Thus ensues the pair’s endless shenanigans and mischief. So now the pack has to deal with training this dumbass little Witcher mutt to make sure he can handle his new mutations and keep him out of trouble caused by the terrible mixture of his established ADHD and new mutation-addled-instincts. Melitele have mercy on them.

Eventually everything falls into place and Jaskier settles into his new life as the latest Witcher pup of the pack, happily dating Geralt, surrounded by doting big brother wolves, causing mayhem with little Ciri, working at the cafe in his spare time, and occasionally being allowed to help with hunts (even though he generally causes more problems than he solves).

(Will be developed more in doodles and eventual fic, asks with questions/doodle prompts always welcome)

[quarthly]

Twilight characters as random animals that I think are oddly fitting

(Also yes, I am roasting the animals as well)

Edward: He would be a Cheetah. Now I know, seems like a cop out just because of his speed but hear me out. Cheetahs are, at face value, pretty cool. They used to be my favorite animal as a child, but then I grew up.

Cheetahs, through no fault of their own, are severely inbred. Now thats mainly because of poaching, but the cheetas anxiety also comes into play. In captivity, cheetahs are usually given emotional support dogs. I will admit it is cute but it negatively affects the population. Excluding one in the wild, cheetas can be to anxious to breed and thats not good for conservation efforts.

Cheetahs can hit up to 80 miles per hour in a couple of seconds. They are designed for fast running and agility. Their claws are similar to that of a dogs for better traction and they have elongated spines for longer strides. They have a thin build, long legs and a long tail for balance.

This has downsides though. Many times after making a kill, it will get stolen for them by larger predators. Thats right, they get absolutely bodied by the other animals. I should probably make these shorter but I'm on a rant now, so I guess this will be semi educational.

Throughout the series, we see Edward over estimated his abilities and value, constantly getting bodied by others. He's essentially a perfect mormon, though thats on S'meyers. He constantly judges others, dehumanizing them to their baser flaws, without doing any self reflecting. Him viewing himself as a monster doesn't really count to me. While he definitely hates himself, the only thing he is truly demonizing is being a vampire.

Bella: Picking up from Edwards, Bella is a Chocolate Labrador. Yes, she is his therapy dog. I feel like this is really fitting for her. I know Golden retriever would make more sense, as thats the most common breed for service animals. However, I kind of focused on her appearance. Only at first though! I just know that Edward raved about her human qualities and that would pass over as animals as well. Her chocolate eyes and brown fur, very average and boring. Thats essentially Bella. Even Edward wasn't into her until he got a wiff. Labradors a very loyal dogs and while they have more personality than Bella, I just couldn't shake it. Their also very stupid. Ok that's kind of mean, they're not stupid but when it comes to love, then yeah they are stupid.

I used to have a lab, loved him to death, but god he was something else. Very much danger prone, from their own stupidity or their lack of survival instincts. I know that labs are almost aquatic. They love water, swimming, all that jazz. We can just say that bella has a few screws loose in her dna and is just "not like other labs."

Rosalie: Now she was hard. There are quite a few animals that I think would fit for her. I'll list the other ones, but that one I went with is the Swan. Like Edward, seems a little on the nose, but I have my reasoning.

I was going to pick a predator for her, as she is shown to be very vengeful and viscous. I would have pick some type of cat, most likely a purebred, from a rich family. It could still work, but the swan just speaks to me on this one.

Swan's are known for being beautiful, graceful, and are pictured as the symbol of love. They are also very vain. Edward constantly brings up Rosalies vanity. She was constantly valued for her beauty as a human, so of course that crossed over in the transformation. She was raised to be married into wealth, she was used as a bargaining chip to increase the family's standing.

Rose has a very strong character and makes her opinions known. She's assertive and aggressive at times. She's not afraid to get dirty.

Swans mate for life and like geese, are known for being great parents. I was also going to choose geese as an option for the maternal instincts. I was wary at first because swans can be really aggressive. Like actually, you think geece are bad? Yikes bestie...

I was conflicted because swans are known for drowning dogs and sometimes people. However, I can actually see Rose drowning Bella. It's not that unbelievable lmao.

Emmett: Now this one is just ironic. I only associate him with bears. Its inevitable, but picking a Grizzly or Black bear is too obvious. So I went a slightly different route...

So I was going to pick the Sun bear just because of looks alone. Like, I'm not exaggerating, it looks like someone wearing a bear costume. I don't think it fits him but I know for a fact that he would dress up as a sun bear and sneak into a zoo to see if anyone would notice. I'll put a pic of it here

Like look at this thing. I have no words...

Anyway, what I picked was a Sloth Bear. Now Sloth bears are mostly nocturnal, which either way works consider vamps don't sleep. Their diet is also odd but honestly so is the cullens. They're native to the Indian subcontinent, and are known for being aggressive towards humans. Its said that for the most part they're pretty calm, so I think its just fear of humans that make them act aggressively. Honestly, that's a good thing because they are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red list.

They have some similarities with sloths, which is where they get the name. They have long claws and unusual teeth. They are known to hang upside down from tree branches, and is described as having a messy appearance. Honestly, Emmitt has a messy personality. Sorry bestie but you're a lot of work.

Now heres the biggest reason for choosing this bear. Aside from Baloo from the jungle book being a sloth bear, they are known to run fades with Tigers. Honestly, how fucking badass is that!? Now I don't think there are recorded instances of a Sloth bear killing a Tiger, but when push comes to shove, they can hold their own and I find that incredibly impressive.

Carlisle: This one was somehow the easiest as well as the toughest. I know Owl seems like the obvious choice, and I can see it. However, I believe Carlisle values emotional intelligence as much or if not more than academic intelligence. He is so charismatic and values other's above himself. He might not be as Saint like as Edward thinks, but he does try and I think he genuinely cares about others. For that reason alone, I choose a Elephant.

Elephant's are very social animals and are extremely intelligent. I could rave about them for ages, I love them so much.

Now elephants live in a familial unit and are usually matriarchal. Bulls usually are on the outer edges of the herd or form little groups with other males. Honestly, they're not that bad aside from when their in musk.

In the group of males, the elder ones will teach the younger where to get the best food, water, how to use things as tools, and every other thing that will increase their odds of survival. This is really cute to me tbh, they do this because the females usually choose the older males because they've proved that they are intelligent and strong, that they have survived and will continue to for awhile. Teaching the younger males these things are to make the odds of them getting chosen to mate more likely. The whole unit just reminds me of a father that has to deal with rowdy teens.

Carlisle likes to take in strays, he might not have a herd but he will make one and teach them to thrive. That's how he envisions it anyway. He just has a found family and is trying his best.

Esme: Now this might seem like an insult, but I promise it's not! This is in no way misogynistic. I love cattle and ever since I took animal science in highschool, I have appreciated these grass puppies like they deserve. Call me Castro because I love cows.

Yup! I chose a Cow for her. Specifically a beef cow. That might sound weird but its because beef cows have higher maternal instinct than dairy cows. I'm thinking Scottish Highland based on vibes alone.

They are nicknamed the Gentle Giants of Scotland. Super maternal and sweet and ugh look how cute they are!

Esme came from a abusive marriage and had just lost her child, she was depressed and desperate. Her changing was, in a way, salvation. She just fits in. She adopts all these strays along with him and will protect them to the death. She might be gentle by nature, but don't fuck with her family. She lost her first one and she isn't going to lose this one.

Alice: She's an odd one. There are so many possibilities and maybe I'm biased, but I feel like she would be a Crow.

Ok listen, I'm definitely biased but it just feels right. Crows get a bad rap, they are so cool! They are so intelligent and have the ability to actually sit and think about the past, prest, and future. I forget what its called, but this was only seem in humans! Maybe other apes, I can't remember exactly, but either way its awesome. They do live in groups, or murders, and remember people and faces. They remember locations and are able to pass down information through generations. They essentially have their own language! They are able to use tools too!

Alice's story is really sad. When we first meets her, it revolves around the death of her mother and her institutionalized. She was essentially tortured and forgot everything from her past. All she had was the future and even that wasn't constant. Crows a often viewed as omens, they are associated with death. I personally believe that instead of being the cause, they just know something is going to happen. They are very inquisitive and can be creative.

If you befriend a murder of crows, sometimes, depends or the group, they will bring gifts. Its can range from food to shiny metals and colorful plastic. Hell, I think I've seen a post of one stealing things from people just to gift it to their human.

Alice's love language is gifts. Even if they are focused around fashion, she still goes out of her way to get something that will look good and at least be a little comfortable. By that I mean she tends to forget peoples comfort zones, but she means well.

Jasper: Honestly not to sure what to put for him. I know a predator would be more fitting, but for some reason I can see a donkey working. I know, seems like I'm clowning on the confederate. Fair, but I'm serious about the donkey thing. Honestly, it would be perfect if it wasn't a herbivore. Porcupine would also work.

Being a predator would make more sense. Given his backstory and his characterization, it wouldn't make sense for him to be a prey animal. Usually I wouldn't count this, but given his gore filled past and trouble with the diet, it seemed fitting.

I see him as a Big Cat. Honestly, vamps in general just give cat vibes. Jasper though especially have some cat like qualities, which originates from hunting and being a soldier.

I specifically see him as a Mountain Lion. Aside from him being blonde, he just has the predatory stealth to him. In midnight sun, we see him use his gift to make the nomads overlook him. He's honestly really powerful.

Mountain lions are known for being stealthy with an air of grace and power to them. They are stong animals. And I mean strong. They can jump 40-45 feet.

They're very elusive and quite. They stalk their prey and tend to attack from behind but don't think they won't hold their ground if need be.

Jasper was changed during the Civil War and forced to fight in the Newborn wars. He was a soldier as a human and as a vampire. He's able to feel and manipulate others emotions. He's covered in scars and is very intimidating.

He still struggles with the diet and honestly I hate how the others handle it. Like they have no room to talk. I don't want to defend the confederate but it just pisses me off. He has to deal with his hunger on top of everyone else's. Like damn, besties always on edge! Everyone doubts him which I don't think helps any.

Also, Mountain lions and Cheetahs can purr!

@aquanova99 I'll do a Volturi one too. That one will be fun lmao

[yourdeepestfathoms]

what did the chickadee and phoenix say to the hybrid?

this was supposed to be a short snippet,,,,,,, anyway, Lydia meets the Maitlands but make it the ~wing au~

----------------------------------------

  “Greeting ghosts,” Said the strange little fledging that entered the attic. “I am Lydia Deetz. Do not be afraid.”

  “Why aren’t you afraid of us?” Barbara asked.

  “Because you aren’t scary,” Lydia said. “I mean, look at me in comparison.” She spread her sagging wings (did she ever lift them?), and Barbara realized there were four of them. “I’m probably the freakiest thing to ever walk among the avians. You got competition.”

Realization dawned on Barbara, but Adam got to it first.

  “You’re a hybrid!” Her husband yelled, nearly flinging his sheet right off of him when he pointed to Lydia.

  “Adam!” Barbara scolded.

  “No, it’s okay,” Lydia said. “I prefer the term ‘hybrid’ over ‘mutant’ and ‘monster.’”

  “I was gonna say it’s rude to point,” Barbara said, pushing Adam’s hand down.

  “Ah,” Lydia nodded. “But yes. I am a hybrid. In the blood. Unfortunately.”

She spread her wings in a mock bow to them, and Barbara could see veins of white riddling the insides of the upper pair. She then winced, fangs flashing in the dim attic light when she grimaced in obvious pain, and let her wings go limp. They landed in a heap on the ground, strewn out like scraps of ruined cloth.

  “Are you alright?” Barbara asked worriedly, feeling a flash of maternal instincts zip through her like lightning.

  “Fine,” Lydia answered before the question could completely leave Barbara’s mouth, as if it were normal for her to brush off her discomfort when around other people. She shuffled her feet and tilted her head at Barbara and Adam. “Why are you in sheets?”

  “We were trying to scare you,” Adam told her.

  “You’re not doing a very good job,” Lydia said. “What do you look like under there? Are you horribly disfigured?” Her shoulders lifted, but her big bat ears remained completely drooped. “Are you like me? May I see?”

Barbara and Adam took off their sheets. Lydia’s expression dimmed.

  “Oh,” Lydia seemed disappointed. “You’re pureblooded.” She sniffed. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Adam said. “I’m Adam, this is Barbara.”

  “Oh, woah,” Lydia’s eyes dilated hugely, like a cat that just saw its owner’s foot move under the blankets. “You’re so shiny.”

Barbara blinked, then realized Lydia was talking about her. Even in death, her feathers continued to glow like fire. She extended one of her wings to Lydia.

  “You can touch them, if you’d like.”

Lydia looked up at her in shock. “Really? You’re not afraid of me, like, contaminating you?”

  “No...”

  “Or infecting you with my ‘dirty blood’?”

  “No.”

  “Or ripping your wings out of your back like I’m a feral WingEater because I’m jealous of how pretty and normal you are and want to ruin all purebreds in an envious rage?”

  “No! Do people really say that stuff to you?!”

Lydia actually laughed. “Wow, you really haven’t met a hybrid before.” She shuffled her feet. “But-- I can really touch them?”

Barbara smiled warmly at her. “Of course, sweetheart.” She nudged her wing closer. “Go on. I promise I don’t have Drop Feather Fever.”

  “Even if you did, I don’t have feathers!” Lydia said, then reached out and brushed Barbara’s wing. Her touch was light and gentle, as if she were worried she may hurt her new friend, and her short, stubby claws tickled against the skin beneath the feathers. “Wow... They’re so soft! And warm!”

  “Yup!” Adam strode over, looking proud. “You, little bat-moth, are looking at a real Phoenix Avem! WAIT--”

Lydia leapt backwards and the mane of yellow-orange flannel moth fur around her neck and chest bristled like a startled cat.

  “YOU CAN SEE US?!” Adam yelled.

It was only then that Barbara realized that Lydia shouldn’t have been able to see her or Adam. She had been so distracted by the adorable fledgling that it hadn’t dawned on her at all.

  “Uhh,” Lydia’s fur settled. “Yeah?”

  “But we were told that the living ignore the strange and usual,” Adam said.

  “Well, perhaps it’s because I, myself, am strange and unusual,” Lydia said. “Also all of my internal organs are purple and I can’t have a period due to a ‘compromised reproductive system caused by faulty genetics,’ so I’m not exactly very far from the boat you’re rocking in.”

  “Trust me, sweetie, the no period thing is a blessing,” Barbara said.

  “Everything else is a curse, though,” Lydia said with a sad smile.

Barbara frowned at that, but before she could press on what she meant, Adam stepped in.

  “Okay, well, since you can see us, do you mind leaving and never coming back?”

  “Adam!” Barbara flared. She thought of not seeing this little girl again, and it made a cold pit open up inside of her and she couldn’t really explain why.

  “Not her,” Adam said quickly. “Her family!”

Lydia scoffed. “We’re not a family.” She sounded a touch offended. “We’re father, daughter, and Delia.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Barbara inquired, “Your mother, she...?”

Just when Barbara thought Lydia’s ears couldn’t droop any further, they somehow got even lower.

  “She... She’s dead...”

Adam grimaced. Barbara’s wings tensed against her back for bringing such a traumatic experience up.

The good news, though, was that the role of mother was up for the taking. And since Lydia clearly felt anything but a parental bond with that Delia woman, Barbara knew it was at good as hers.

She could feel the mammary feathers and nesting season hormones coming in already! Literally. She imprinted on Lydia when she touched her wing. That was her chick now.

  “Oh, honey,” Barbara murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

Lydia shook her head, making her ears slap around her face. She gazed around the attic with sparkling eyes, as if she were holding back tears.

  “She would have loved this place,” Lydia said. “She was Vesper! Which, you know, explains,” She gestured to herself. “She would call me her ‘weird little moon,’ but it was never in a mean way. And we used to have our own little full moon festivals so I would grow up with proper Vesper traditions and culture! We would hang up all the blankets in the house on the trees and make these forts that we would burrow in and watch the moon from. She taught me how to properly pray to Valtiel and everything! And we would do the moon dances on the ground because I can’t fly, but she made the effort to learn how to for me. We couldn’t actually go to the festivals, though, because,” She gestured again. “She worried about me all the time and didn’t let me do a lot of things, but what we did do was amazing.” She then blinked out of her daze and shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you talking about my mom.”

  “No, it’s okay!” Barbara assured her. “We don’t mind!”

  “Really?” Lydia tilted her head and her ears flopped over with the movement. “‘Cause my dad never wants me to talk about her. It’s basically against the law in the house. Among many things.” She raised her wings slightly and did a voice that was apparently supposed to be her cicada Cimex father, “‘Lydia, no talking about your mom! Lydia, no eating bugs, it’s weird and basically cannibalism! Lydia, no coming around me because even though I say I’m trying to change my views of you I still see you as an unrepentant monster who I fear will eat my throat out while I’m sleeping and it makes me guilty not because the way I think of you but because I fear of what you’ll do to society and I was the one who brought you into the world to wreak suck destruction on civilization!’”

Barbara and Adam stared at her in shock.

  “Dads, am I right?”

  “That’s…very concerning,” Adam said.

Lydia shrugged nonchalantly. “Everything about my existence is concerning, so…” Her face then scrunched up and she pressed her floppy ears against the sides of her head like she was trying to keep out a noise that Barbara and Adam’s Avem ears couldn’t pick up. “Oh, ow. Stop worrying so loudly! I’m okay! I’m, like, basically immune to it at this point!”

Barbara and Adam both blinked in confusion, but then Barbara understood.

  “You’re a mind reader.”

Lydia pulled her hands away and smiled slightly. “In the flesh.”

Barbara wondered what that was like--

  “It’s pretty cool, actually.”

--to hear everyone’s thoughts, all the different ways they thought about you and judged you, possibly pretending they liked you when really they hated your guts.

  “When you put it like that…”

  “You surprise me more and more, Lydia,” Adam said.

  “Better than scaring you,” Lydia said. “You guys are really cool. I like you. You’re probably the best thing about this stupid house.”

  “This house is not stupid!” Adam blustered. He grabbed Lydia by the shoulders, making them lurch and the moth fur bristle, and spun her around to him so he could scold her. “It’s a classic Victiorian-- OWW!!!”

Adam ripped away from Lydia as if he had touched fire, while Lydia shrunk away, instinctively wrapping her wings around herself. Adam shook his hands in the air while flapping his wings in obvious distress. 

  “Ow! Ow! Ow! What HAPPENED?” Adam yelped.

  “Sorry,” Lydia whispered. 

  “Are you okay?” Barbara asked her husband. He splayed his hands open for her, and she winced when she saw angry red blisters starting to form all across his palms. “Oh.”

  “It isn’t lethal!” Lydia said, and she sounded very meek compared to the snarky girl that had been talking a few seconds before. “Well, I don’t think it is… But you’re dead, so it’s okay! The pain will go away within a few hours!”

  “HOURS?!” Adam squawked, as if he were a parrot and not a chickadee. He made a woeful noise. “Just cut my hands off!”

Lydia’s ears drooped even lower. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Maitland. I should have told you.”

  “That your really soft fur is EVIL?” Adam said, and Barbara knew he was playing with Lydia, now. However, the little fledgling didn’t seem to realize because she still looked anxious.

  “It’s-- I take after the moth my Cimex side is from. A southern flannel. The worms have venomous hairs, so…” Lydia fluffed her collar of fur. “I do, too. And they sting pretty badly. But not all the time! Only when I bristle them. Thank the goddesses.” She shuffled her feet. “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s alright,” Adam assured her. “A little blistering never hurt anyone. Oh, look, boils! Wonderful!” He laughed. “It builds character!”

Lydia cracked a small smile at that. When her nervousness didn’t recede, Barbara opened one wing to her, beckoning her to come closer. After a moment of shock and delight, gauging if it were a trap, Lydia skittered over and burrowed herself into Barbara’s feathers.

She fit perfectly. 

[tinkonka]

i drew my wh oc!!

i’ve decided on the name ivory since the previous one was a trigger name for a friend of mine, gonna talk about her under the cut :D long post !

her name is ivory, and as it says, she’s a purebred! she’s around 2000 years old but still going strong. very kind personality - picture zizel and lime combined except she’s a little more awkward - and talkative. she displays more of a kind side around humans, and is always willing to discuss things such as negative ad positive emotions, how they impact others and things like that. and no she doesn’t need glasses but she likes them

she’s a bit of a teaser sort! centuries of interacting with humans has led her to be very adapt with reading faces + recognizing insecurities in other people... so yea she do got the ability to hit it where it hurts. but she only really uses this ability for lighthearted teasing, with rouge being a primary target

(i drew zizel without a ref lol) as you can see she is very tall. 6′6. and she uses this to her advantage as well - she’ll pick up zizel and put her hand on rouges head (which rouge does not like). if you’re curious here’s a height reference:

So yeah zizel only reaches her chest. tiny.

another thing to add is that she has these spicy tentacles as you can see in this drawing:

and these can be hidden at will, though she prefers to keep them out as it’s a pain to keep them secret (similarly to how demons can show a proper form in the day but it’s a nusiance). these tentacles are as a result of working as a guarding monster for a couple hundred years, defending an artifact that the demons enjoy using. as such, she’s out of practice with her human form, and if she’s careless, she’ll begin to transform, and trying to keep the monster at bay can! really hurt! because there’s always the inner desire to have said monster get free (like how demons are naturally breeded to love negativity) and trying to fight the desire isn’t something she has practice with.

and so, she’ll have these ‘outbursts’ where she’ll leak and black wounds will appear - much like noel when he’s trying to fight his transformation as well.

i haven’t written much for this character yet, but i’m planning on inserting a hater demon into ivory’s story - i think i may have talked about her before? cerise, a 13 year old hater demon who had no happiness similar to lime. since she was still young, ivory had decided to take her under her wing - not out of compassion at the time, but because she didn’t wish for cerise to fall for other demons tricks and how to obey the rules. though advancing the relationship, cerise had admitted to ivory that she makes her feel happy. “i never had any happy memories... but you give me some, even though this place is far from good.” this REALLY threw ivory off. demons causing other demons positive emotions??? what??? this was not her intent. alas, she had grown attached to the younger hater, only for the hater to.... fall for another demons tricks. she was framed for the modification of a sacred artifact, and ivory had no choice but to banish her to the other hell.  ivory still wonders how she is. she doesn’t want to bring her out temporarily, however, because she knows things aren’t good. and in truth, a part of her is scared that cerise would’ve been desensitized and hardened by the deeper hell, and so she decided to try not to think about her. (though she still wanted to honour cerise, so she wears the flower crown that she made for her. (the heart locket was from susie)) im not quite sure how she and susie had gotten to form the pact but if i ever do figure that part out i’ll let you guys know about it :)

miscellaneous headcanons:

 she and zizel are quite close, as they worked together for a short time before ivory had to go to another station. they’re penpals tho zizel will sit in ivorys lap and drink tea and ivory will carry zizel on her shoulders it’s always a fun time

she despises the higher class demons with a PASSION because they’re known for not giving two shits about stuff and she’ll ramble about it angrily

rouge is below her in terms of hierarchy but she doesn’t really mind being berated by the red-head. if anything, it’s funny to her

she firmly believes that showing kindness shouldn’t be strange for demons. she wishes that more demons would help eachother - mainly haters - because she thinks that they can help eachother with their pain. though she doesnt have much room to talk on the matter since she’s a purebred herself

her tentacles (she has about 4) are pointy at the ends, and they’re warm and. sludgey to the touch (like mud). they move involuntarily and tend to just grab things she subconsciously likes (zizel is a victim of this) and whack people when she’s standing next to them. she’s getting better at controlling this though

thinks lime is a tad strange but absolutely adores the cute aesthetic thing she has going on. she values charlottes opinions as well, and likes to talk with her about just anything.

she thinks claire is a bit stupid sometimes but one day she and claire spent like hours talking about feminine things like cute dresses and flower crowns and ivory wished she clda given claire a chance to try on some of the dresses she had kept from her time in the mansion.

absolutely terrified of sirius thinks he’s a tiny gremlin. one time tried to give him a hug bc he was kind and he stomped on her foot not a good time

she’s eh about wilardo. doesnt think that he’s as interesting as the others, but will respect him. he’s okay

she’s not used to like socializing so she talks too much and doesnt know how to continue a conversation and always ends up embarrassing herself

if i can think of anymore then i’ll let you guys know! feel free 2 draw her (i still need to colour her in whoops), give her theme songs... im down for anything :D

if you’ve read this far tysm hi i lov u !! thank you for reading my rambles :D

[lovelessmako]

This is a demon/exophilia love story I've been working on that I thought I'd share here. If people seem to like it then I'll add more.

Ve

Chapter One:

Kivet laughed inwardly as blood and adrenaline rolled off his dark form in waves. The thrill of the chase. Watching a child cling to you, begging you to let them go as the light slowly leaves their eyes. This was what he was created for. He was a peacekeeper between the different species. It was his job to keep the status quo in any way possible. If that meant killing children because a fae dared to have a child with a human, then that was what he had to do. Afterall, mutts were incapable of kindness or love. Sure, they could fake it quite convincingly, even Kivert himself would've fallen for it had he not been taught the truth, but it was impossible for them to experience any pleasant emotions. If Kivet enjoyed his job then that was nobody's business but his own. Everyone needed to stick to their own people. Only the Ve, which he was, could leave their lands.

Sometimes people would send messengers to other species in order to broker peace. Kivet hated those. Scared, unarmed, diplomats with enough medals to make you go blind as they reflected the sun. They didn't deserve those. He always made sure nothing arrived and would leave a bloodied medal behind as a warning. He would keep the others, of course. They were rather good quality and he had quite the collection coming along. He had no idea what they stood for but surely he deserved them more than their original owners.

Kivet set to work wiping his claws off on a rag he kept in his pocket. He frowned slightly when he saw that the blood had reached there as well. So much for clean hands. He gave up and settled for sitting with his back against a tree and admiring his work. Even in their last moments, the two criminals had held each other and tried to shield the child. That's commitment, he'll give them that. Maybe they thought it would gain his sympathy. Dumb. It did make him a bit lonely though. If such scum found someone to play along with their ruse, then why was a hero forced to work alone? He wasn't forced per say, but his old partner had fallen for an orphaned mutt's tricks and had to be put down. It was unfortunate, Suvo was pretty good at his job. He had even told Kivet that what they were doing was wrong! Saving lifes is wrong? What an ass! No, he reminded himself, it was that mutt's fault. Suvo had younger siblings and the creature looked similar to one. Meanwhile, Kivet had never been around children except for when he was in school.

He gathered himself and started in to the nearest town. Kivet could use something to eat, and there were always mutts scatted about to kill. It was disturbing how many there were. Why do people insist on disobeying the natural order of things? The strangest part was how many purebreds supported the movement. The town wasn't too far of a walk, and his shadowy wings were still a bit sore from the long flight over, so he didn't mind walking. The land was nice enough, a dirt path with a small lake to the right and wilting forest to his left. There were some huts in groups of 3 or 4 every now and then; It seems the humans were not advanced enough to feel safe living alone yet. It made sense, they were a very fragile species, very easy to injure; even by accident. They also contracted illnesses often and usually died from them. And, even if they managed to be extremely careful, their lifespan was still very short. Most species told tales of these weak creatures and used them as examples of the good alliances between species would do. They were nothing more than figureheads, however. Something that would be cast aside when no longer needed.

Humans were the worst when it came to mutts. They found fae and elves to be attractive for some reason. He could see it from a procreation standpoint; every parent wants their children to be powerful. But what did the others gain? Maybe humans had special bonding rituals that they preformed in order to create children. That could be interesting. Not that it would ever be possible for a Ve, even if it was allowed. He was reminded of that time and time again as humans ran or hid from him. "Nightmare. Demon. Bad omen. Monster," he had heard it all.

This time, however, the humans seemed to be crowding around a figure on the ground. He hissed loudly, causing them to scatter and leave the body. He crouched nearby, not caring about the pool of blackened blood that was leaking from a bashed in skull. This was a Ve. A wing had been torn off along with their hands, likely for grizzly trophies. Something caught his eye behind their ear. Kivet yanked out the sharp object to see a steady, blinking, red light. A tracker. This wasn't a Ve that had gotten out of line and needed to be put down. They were hunted. He growled and glared around at the humans. No, not one of them. They were much too timid; many crying already. Entire towns had been decimated for less serious offenses.

If someone was hunting Ve then Kivet needed to be safe. While Ve normally had a solid form, they could take on a shadowy apperation that couldn't be harmed. Unfortunately they couldn't harm anyone either. An even trade off. It also took effort. Not a lot, but it would surely add up. He weighed his options. He couldn't eat while in that form so he would have to drop it for those moments. But waiting a few days to eat could help. It would be a lot easier if he had a partner that could help by taking turns keeping watch. But they would just be hit instead. Maybe he could trick a troll into protecting him. They're a good 3-4 feet taller than him and bright blue; an easy target. But that would mean putting up with a troll. And he didn't even speak their language. Not worth it.

"Are you alright, sir?" Kivet jumped, how could he have let a human sneak up on him like that?! They continued, ignoring his suprise, "it's a pretty gruesome sight."

"Don't talk to me." He went ignored.

"Did you know them?"

"Why are you still talking to me?!"

"Its still sad, even if you didn't. I know if I saw a human like that I'd likely take my own life from the trauma."

Why didn't this human-? Wait, they probably couldn't understand him. Humans had a spoken language, not psychic. Kivet remembered studying that back in Academy; they had to choose a language and it seemed the easiest.

"Fine," he choked out, voice scratchy and broken from lack of use. The human apparently took that as emotion and placed their hand on his shoulder. He hissed in warning, but it wasn't removed.

"Why don't you come inside? I'm not sure if you can digest the same things as us, but I made some nice potato soup. Its chilly today as well. I already have a fire going inside."

Why was this human being nice to him? They didn't even know his name. Hell, he didn't even know their gender; humans were difficult to ascertain with their lack of horns or spikes. He considered the offer. On one hand, he had come to the village for food, and while he wasn't affected by the weather, seeing such a mutilated corpse sent shivers down his back. He was reminded of what his father told him when he started school, "Don't trust anyone, regardless of species or blood relation."

"Sounds lonely."

He startled, not realizing that he had spoken it aloud. "Its all I've ever known." Lie. He had traveled with Suvo for 3 years before the incident. "Find me another Ve and I'll consider changing my mind," he tried to joke. It probably sounded too serious in his underused voice.

"You'll be pretty hard-pressed to find another." A tall fae with tanned skin and a whimsical voice pranced over to them, feet light and airy. Humans referred to Fae as the opposite of Ve. Kivet hated them. Even more than mutts.

"Oh, don't give me that look, demon. I come with news." Kivet continued to glare. How dare he speak to him! "The Ve were attacked a few weeks ago. Whole towns wiped out. Only a handful of you guys remain and they're hunting you down." Who? He was too confused to ask. Ve were untouchable. Heroes who used their strength for good. Why would someone attack? How could they lose? "The Golems." The Fae seemed to understand the unspoken question. "They asked the Fae to join them but our queen refused. The last time we angered Ve our capital was destroyed. So much unnecessary death."

"Just tell me what happened already!" Kivet was getting fed up with this stupid voice already.

He shrugged, a human expression, "that's all I know. My guess is a full frontal assault. Ve are good at tactics, but you lack- what was the word? Oh yeah-strength." That was a blow and he knew it. The Ve were all about strength. They were the best when it came to 1-on-1 fights. Then other species had to invent blades and spears. Kivet, like most Ve, refused to use them. They were a crutch. He hated to believe what a fucking Fae was telling him, but it added up. Golems were known to be able to track anything; relentless hunters. Now he knows it was all thanks to tiny machines.

"Serves you right! The Ve should've be wiped out centuries ago." The Fae laughed. Stupid, musical laughter. Kivet couldn't take it! He lunged at the taller man, causing them to fall to the ground. They seemed shocked and caught off guard. Kivet spread his wings threateningly and hissed in his face, taking joy in seeing the spots of saliva that splattered that stupid, perfect face. The human seemed to be saying something, but all Kivet saw was red. His instincts tuned out all other distractions and focused on their prey. He tried to let out a threatening laugh, but it only sounded broken with emotion. "Not strong, huh? Then what does that say about you?"

The Fae relaxed suddenly, much to his confusion. "Hear that? The Golems are coming." And they were. Their heavy footfalls could be heard not too far away. Likely near where Kivet had left the mutt and it's parent's bodies. He acted solely on instinct and shot off flying towards the sound of the noise. He had to see it for himself. His wings burned from the effort, not used to going faster than a leisurely pace. He stumbled in the air when one popped. Likely a sprain or dislocation, not broken. He fought through the pain until he heard the voices nearly under him. He landed on a sturdy tree branch and started to leap his way across to get a better view, yet be less visible. He didn't know much of their language, but he could pick out a few words "Troll. Her. Reward." They weren't tracking a Ve afterall! But who was this Troll? Someone important for the Golems to make a special trip. Maybe a criminal? Didn't matter. They could kill her for all he cared. Wasn't his problem.

Wait, then why was that Fae in a human village if not to warn him? The fucker came up with some random story to district him from his job! A Fae in a human village was very clearly against the rules. He inwardly scolded himself for not realizing earlier. Oh, he was going to pay!

Kivet turned to move, forgetting about his hurt wing, and stumbled slightly. The rustling attracted the attention of one of the Golems. He froze as he was stared directly in the eye. Neither made a move for what felt like forever. Another Golem said something to the one watching him who then turned his attention away. This was the perfect opportunity to run! So why couldn't he move? The one who had spotted him said something about a bird before the group continued on their way. Did a Golem just cover for him!? Wait, why would that be shocking? Ve had important jobs and couldn't afford to be distracted by insignificant creatures. Surely that was public knowledge by now.

He should really go after that one Fae, but right now he was just too tired, rules be damned. He doubted he could sleep with all that had happened in the past few hours. It seemed like weeks had passed since he last awoke. He wrapped himself into a snug position and closed his eyes.

[inu-jiru]

Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter One

(A/N: This is a retelling of the GDW anime with a twist: Tomoe is the daughter of John, and this is her story. This story won’t follow every beat from the anime, but follows it for the most part. Enjoy!)

Chapter One - Her Name Is Tomoe

Deep within the forests of Futago Pass, a sika stag was running for its life. Three dogs were hot on its heels, snarling and baying. One was a dark-furred Kai Ken, the second resembled a purebred Great Dane, and the last was a German Shepherd. The Shepherd was quite young compared to her companions, being only slightly taller than the Kai. She lagged behind the other two dogs, panting heavily as her tongue hung from the side of her mouth. The Kai glanced back at her, smirking slightly. “Oi, little sis,” he began coyly. “Having trouble keeping up?” “Fuck off,” replied the Shepherd, though her tone had a hint of playfulness to it. “I don’t see you getting any closer to it.” “That’s ‘cause I didn’t wanna leave you in the dust, heh. You should thank me.” “Focus, you two,” barked the Dane before the Shepherd bitch could offer a witty retort. “It’s starting to get tired. If we keep this hunt, we can get the jump on it.” As the Dane spoke, the Shepherd bitch looked to her Kai ally and began mouthing words to him, mocking the lecture. The Kai couldn’t help but snicker. The stag bellowed in anguish, its lungs aching and burning from all the running. Though it didn’t want to, it began slowing down. Its hoof bumped against a stone that was partially buried in the grass, and with another cry, it staggered. The Great Dane took the chance and leaped into the air, biting down on the stag’s hind leg. “Kage, hurry!” he ordered through a mouthful of fur and skin. The Kai obeyed, launching himself at the stag and latching his fangs onto the back of its neck. He twisted his body around, now dangling from the stag’s throat. Saliva dripped from its maws as it choked, and its forelegs caved underneath it. “Now you, Tomoe!” shouted the Kai as best as he could. “Do it! The Retsu!” “Hraaaaah!” Tomoe roared. She hadn’t needed to be told twice. Into the air, she leapt, her body rotating in a sideways, circular motion. In less than a second, she appeared to be a spinning black-and-tan circle approaching the stag at rapid speed. Her fangs soon made contact, tearing into the stag’s flesh and bone with the tower of a circular saw. She carved a spiral-like wound along its back and stomach, causing a literal bloodbath as the stag bled out almost instantly. It crumbled to the ground as the Kai and Great Dane moved out of the way. Tomoe landed about a foot away, licking the blood from her lips. This was the power of her technique, the Retsu Genmu-Battōga. She padded towards the kill as her comrades looked over. “Nice one, sis!” praised the Kai, Kage, as his friends called him. His full name was Kagetora. He lifted a paw, giving the young bitch a playful nudge on the shoulder. “Heh, thanks,” Tomoe replied with a smile. “I’ve been practicing a lot. Mom says it helps.” “Clearly,” said the Great Dane, named Ken. “You’ve nearly bled this guy dry. I’d say you’ve mastered your Battouga, sis.” At that, Tomoe’s smile widened, her heart fluttering in her chest. “You really think so, Ken?” “Heh, yep.” Ken returned the grin, before scrunching his nose at his blood-soaked paws. “Just wish it wasn’t so...messy.” “Pfft,” Kagetora scoffed. “The son of Ben, everybody. Scared of a little blood.” He and Tomoe both laughed. Ken responded by reaching over and knocking the much smaller Kai dog flat onto his back. Tomoe’s laughter became uncontrollable wheezing as she fell onto her haunches. The Dane rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mild annoyance. “Get up, you idiot,” he grunted, before looking up. The sky was a mix between orange and navy blue; the day was fading fast. “Jeez...dusk already? Well, let’s hurry back to Gajou before Mr. Kurotora has a fit.” After Kagetora was up, the trio were off, dragging the stag up the mountainside. It was a slow process thanks to the uneven terrain. Tree roots that broke the surface and large boulders forced the three dogs to change their route a number of times. Night arrived quickly, but the moon and the stars were hidden by thick storm clouds. Tomoe felt the ground beneath her paws vibrate as thunder rumbled. “Shit…” she grunted over a mouthful of fur and flesh. “We might be able to beat the rain,” said Ken hopefully. “C’mon, keep--” C R A C K ! The Dane’s voice was drowned out by a sudden, louder clap of thunder. Not a second later, a bolt of lightning struck down from the sky, striking a tree. The tree began to lean as fire formed along the trunk. It began to fall. “Move!” ordered Ken as he abandoned the kill and dove to the side. Tomoe and Kagetora did the same, narrowly avoiding the tree as it slammed into the ground. The stag’s corpse was crushed underneath it. “Fuck!” exclaimed Kagetora in anger. “Leave it,” said Ken quickly. “We need to go. Look!” The Dane pointed with his paw towards the remaining, scorched tree stump. Embers danced from the main fire, landing in grass and fallen leaves, setting them aflame. Tomoe and Kagetora needed no further explanation. They continued onward, forced to leave the kill behind as the fire spread rapidly. Not ten seconds passed before Tomoe could feel a great heat against her back. Thunder continued to rumble; the ground began to shake so violently that she could barely keep her footing. Something’s not right… the young bitch thought, taking a risk and glancing back over her shoulder. That can’t just be normal thunder… A wall of flames loomed behind the fleeing dogs, but that wasn’t what caught Tomoe’s attention. There was...something...within the flames. Something that seemed to be growing larger with each passing second. Whatever it was, it suddenly burst through the fire, its eyes glowing a vibrant white. Tomoe skidded to a stop, staring back at the creature with wide, terrified eyes. “Eh? Little sis?” Kagetora called back, looking towards the younger Shepherd. “What’s going--?” ROOOOOOOAR! The world shook as the creature unleashed its fearsome battle cry. Kagetora stopped as well, only able to stare, only able to wonder: “What the hell is that!?” Further up the mountain, at the base of the Ohu Army, soldiers perked from their resting spots. The higher-ranking members exited the stronghold, Gajou, and began looking around. “What the hell was that noise?” someone barked in alarm. “Didn’t sound like thunder.” “A bear, perhaps?” responded another dog. “I can smell fire!” a third soldier yelped. “Soldiers!” An Akita Inu with a silver, brindle pelt leapt onto the top of Gajou, followed by a German Shepherd and a Kishu Inu. Everyone turned to look up at him, falling silent as they awaited his command. “There isn’t any time to delay. Go into the Paradise and begin escorting the other dogs out of the forest!” “Sir!” the soldiers cried out obediently. Most of them began heading off into the woods, acting as they were ordered to. Remaining at the base of Gajou were some of the higher-ups, veterans and survivors of the war against Akakabuto. A female panda German Shepherd looked around, her ears falling back. “Tomoe,” she began. “Tomoe went out on a hunt with Kage and Ken…! I have to go and find her!” “Wait, Jiyū!” Ben called to her, his ears swiveling to pick up whatever little sounds he could. “I don’t think the fire is all we have to worry about…” “If there’s a bear or something out there, then it’ll have to deal with me.” The Shepherd bitch’s eyes glinted with desire to protect. “I’m not about to let my Tomoe get hurt.” “My Kagetora’s out there too,” added Kurotora, joining Jiyū’s side. “Nobutora and Harutora, my nephews...like hell if I’m gonna let them get hurt. We’ve taken down Akakabuto; this’ll be nothing.” “Not a bear…” murmured Ben. “It’s--” ROOOOOOOAR! Ben’s words were drowned out by another roar, this one much louder than the one everyone had heard before. Whatever was coming, it was close. A strange scent filled the air, something dog-like, but not quite. A wolf? No, something bigger. Screams filled the air as whatever beast lay hidden in the forest began its attack. It wasn’t long before the veterans could smell blood. “MOM!” Tomoe’s voice rang out, causing Jiyū’s heart to flutter in her chest. The young Shepherd emerged from the forest a moment later, followed by Kagetora, Ken, and a few other soldiers. Some of them were covered in blood. One male limped, one of his hind legs broken. Jiyū was the first to approach, the rest of the Ohu veterans following behind her. The panda female stopped in front of Tomoe, looking over her. “Are you hurt?” Jiyū demanded. “No, mom,” Tomoe panted, occasionally glancing back towards the woods. “But there’s something back there! Something big!” C R A C K ! B O O M ! The thunder boomed again, lightning following close behind. The creature took that opportunity to leave the shadows. In one second, the trees hid it. In the next, it stood outside of the forest’s edge, the ongoing fire forming a hellish halo around its dark frame. It gave the army no chance to fully fathom what it was. It attacked, maw agape, fangs ready. Smith rushed through the forest that was yet to be engulfed in flames. The chaos occurring at the top of the Pass traveled down into the Paradise at rapid speed, and being a Platoon Leader, it was the male’s duty to go and see what was going on. He arrived at the stronghold, just as the invader slammed an unfortunate dog onto the ground, ripping him in half with its jaws. “What the…?” Smith shouted in alarm. “What the hell’s goin’ on!?” “Sergeant!” A brown mongrel rushed up to the Spaniel, Gin’s mate, a white Kishu named Sakura, close to his side. Sakura’s belly was swollen, an obvious sign that she was due to give birth soon. “We’ve been invaded by a monster!” the mongrel explained frantically. “Everyone’s doing what they can, but we can’t keep this up much longer!” As the mongrel spoke, the monster lifted its head, roaring once again. Smith could hardly believe his eyes. It looked like a dog, somewhat, but it was massive, almost as big as bears like Madara or Mosa. It had a mane around its neck, and a thick armor-like shell on its back, a broken chain dangling from the hip. Muscle was exposed on its left leg and chest, though any dog who attempted to get close enough to bite these areas were swiftly knocked away and devoured. “Chief!” the mongrel barked again, catching Smith’s attention. “Sergeant Ben ordered that Miss Sakura be taken to safety! Please escort her out of Futago Pass!” “I can’t do that!” Smith argued. “Not while my comrades are in danger!” “But Sakura and her puppies are also in danger,” said the soldier. He and Smith both looked to Sakura. The female was looking back towards the battle, her ears pressed against the side of her head. Smith looked down at her swollen belly, and then down at the stumpy remain that used to be his right leg. Though he could still fight, his handicap would make things difficult. Smith sighed, realizing that he’d have to take the smarter option. “Fine…” he finally said. He then looked up, back towards the rest of the army. “But Sakura isn’t the only female here. Jiyū, Tomoe and Cross...we need to get them out of here, too. Take Sakura down towards the Paradise; I’ll be behind you in a minute.” “Sir!” the soldier replied obediently. “Miss Sakura, this way!” Smith raced towards the stronghold, feeling rain pelting into him as he left the shelter of the woods. The combined scent of smoke and blood were suffocating, but the Spaniel pushed himself onward. Reaching Gajou, he could now hear Tomoe’s voice. “Let me go!” she was shouting. “Mom! Aunt Cross! Let go of me!” Smith could now see the young Shepherd being dragged away from the battle by her mother and the old Saluki. Tomoe desperately tried to escape their grip, but their teeth were tight on her scruff, holding her back. “You’re not going over there!” Jiyū snapped. “I’m taking you down the mountain where it’s safe!” “But I’m an Ohu soldier too! If everyone else can fight, then I’ll fight too! I’ll use my Retsu!” “Listen to your mother!” Cross urged. “Let the older dogs handle this!” “Jiyū! Cross!” Smith called, catching the older females’ attention. “I need to get you out of here. Tomoe, too!” “We’re not leaving, Smith.” Cross shot the Spaniel a stern look. “Jiyū’s taking Tomoe down the mountain, but she’s coming right back up here to help fight.” “This isn’t the time to act tough, Cross.” Smith was beginning to lose his patience. “It’s a man’s duty to protect women and children!” “Shut up with that outdated crap,” snapped Jiyū, releasing Tomoe to glare back at Smith. “I didn’t run away from Akakabuto, and I’m sure as hell not running away now.” Feeling less pressure on her scruff, Tomoe saw this as her chance. She yanked out of Cross’s grip, darting off. “Uh?” Cross yelped. “Tomoe! Tomoe, no!” “Tomoe!” Jiyū called after her daughter. “Come back here this instant!” But Tomoe didn’t listen, not stopping until she found a suitable spot to perform the Retsu Genmu-Battōga. She stopped near the rocky ledge that stretched behind Gajou, turning around and facing the monster. Standing tall, the young bitch began to shout: “Oi! Look at me, you piece of shit!” The monster turned towards Tomoe, a dog’s carcass dangling from its maw. Without a second thought, it charged at the female, the ground shaking with each powerful step it took. A terrified Jiyū sprinted for her daughter. Tomoe leapt into the air, yelling fiercely. The monster pounced, swinging it’s paw. TWACK! Tomoe felt a hot, stinging pain in the side of her head. Her vision became clouded with red, but not from rage. Blood ran down her face. The monster’s claw had torn away her ear and the surrounding flesh. The force of the blow was so great that the young bitch flew backwards, past the cliff and down into the darkness below. “NO!” Jiyū screamed. Running past the monster, she flung herself off the cliff and after her daughter. She’s not dead, the panda Shepherd thought, tears streaming from her eyes as a swift, rushing river grew closer and closer. She can’t be…! Oh, God, please don’t let her be dead! Jiyū landed in the river with a splash and felt herself being carried away by the current. She kicked and kicked, forcing herself to swim. Her eyes searched madly for Tomoe. The water had gained a reddish tint from the pup’s blood. Finally, Jiyū made out her daughter’s limp form. Swimming towards her, Jiyū threw her forearms around her and pulled her up to the surface. Jiyū gasped for breath before looking down at Tomoe. Her left ear was completely gone, and a large wound had been carved into her head, even going past her left eye. Despite that, Jiyū could feel the rising and falling of her chest. Tomoe was unconscious, but she was alive. “Thank God…” murmured the older bitch, holding on tighter to her little girl. Her ear flicked. The water was moving faster. Looking back, Jiyū could see a waterfall approaching. The current was far too strong to swim away. Jiyū had no choice; she’d have to take as much of the impact of the drop as she could. For Tomoe. Closing her eyes, Jiyū wrapped herself around Tomoe as best as she could. Then, they fell.

[jxckspxcer]

Pets that have been in Jacks Life (a rough estimate)

Ant Farm (released them).

Cobalt Blue Tarantula (Ophelia, disappeared one day...)

Hissing Cockroaches (kept for their life span).

Corn Snakes (Felicity (祺) & Candle (蜡烛)).

A baby Barbary Monkey (only kept a few days, named them Peaches).

Dinosaurs (a bunch who are now dead cause the world just couldn’t sustain them, but he still has Monster Truck, a beautiful Triceratops). 

Various garden and wild snakes he just took in for a while before releasing.

Blue Tongue Skink (current pet whomst he calls his dog, name TBA).

Not technically his pets: But they impact him emotionally.

Aunt Abigails Purebred White Persian (Genevieve). Hates.

Cousin Clarks Pearly Cockatiel (Etoile). Covets.

Piebald horse from his equestrian lessons (Merle). Sad to leave.

Estate Koi Pond (10+ Koi). Likes to watch.

ROBOTIC PETS (and non-animal pet)

THE D.O.G SQUAD (Delta, Omega and Gamma, his furious dog security bots-- there’s also Alpha & Beta, but they’re reserved for display/demonstrations/leasing).

Pilly, the medication-dispensing Tucan. 

Moon Cactus (NAPOLEON, cause hes miniature with a big hat).

Wishlist: Ball Python, Chameleon, Ferret, Sugar Gliders, Goat, MORE MONKEYS, maybe some alligators... 

Overrated: Any cat that isn’t tuxedo, feral or hairless. 

[werewolfdays]

Interview With A Werewolf

in which Nadya starts to really ask some questions-

This was the first real hike that Jayde and I have been on since we got to the Lodge. It was a beautiful day, the forest was teaming with life, and I was excited to start exploring the vast forested grounds. I took in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air and watched Jayde as we walked. Every now and then she would stop and listen, or watch through the tree line like she was waiting for something to pop out. It wasn’t necessarily like she was afraid for our safety, it was more of a curious energy. It reminded me of when I walked my neighbor’s dog and he would stop in his tracks at any noise, enthralled by every possibility of the source until his attention span pulled him along again only to be distracted by another rustle in the bushes or scent by a tree. 

Then, I felt guilty for making that comparison. Jayde wasn’t a dog. Even if she sometimes kind of looked the part. I was fascinated by all that she must be sensing, though. I knew werewolf senses were far better than humans, but I still didn’t know the full extent of them. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to comprehend it unless I experienced it myself. That got the wheels in my head turning.

I thought about that for most of our hike. I’ve hiked plenty of times in the past, and I was in good shape, but even I eventually found myself starting to breathe harder, perspiration causing my shirt to stick to my back a little. When I looked at Jayde, I could tell she was barely even breaking a sweat. Must be convenient being a supernatural being with increased strength and endurance. 

About an hour into the hike we found a fallen tree with a gorgeous view to take a break at. It was more me needing the break than Jayde. I reached into my pack to pull out my water bottle and some trail snacks. While I was taking slow sips, I began contemplating it again. Maybe I should just ask.

“I have a question.” 

Jayde turned her attention to me, “Shoot.” 

“If you wanted to, could you turn me?” Surprised by my own approach to the subject, I was suddenly stricken by social awkwardness and quickly added, “Into a werewolf.” Like the question wasn’t obvious enough.

An unreadable expression crossed Jayde’s face as she stared at me silently for a long while. The moment continued to stretch out, and I began to worry that I had said something wrong. Like I had broken an unspoken rule. Was I not supposed to ever ask this?

Eventually, she responded plainly with, “Yeah, I could.”

Jayde hadn’t given me any other indication not to talk more about the subject so I asked, “How would it happen?”

“I would bite you. Or some of my blood would have to enter your bloodstream.” Her tone was calm, but that unreadable expression remained. I couldn’t decide if it made me uneasy or not.

“What happens after that?” I pressed.

She finally looked away from me, fiddling with some of the loose bark on the log we were sitting on, “You would get sick for about a week or so. Really sick. Your body basically has to remake itself. It’s painful.” 

I could tell there was something more to it, “What else?”

Her hard gaze met mine, “It doesn’t happen that often, but there’s a chance that your body could reject the change. If it does, it will kill you.” 

“Are you trying to scare me?” That must be why she was behaving so strangely right now. She was afraid that I was going to ask her to turn me. 

“I don’t know,” Jayde responded and resumed her picking at the bark, “I just want you to read the fine print, I guess.” 

I moved to straddle the fallen log we were sitting on so I could face her, and placed my hand on top of hers to stop her fidgeting, “Hey,” I said, using my other hand to gently tap a finger under her chin, urging her to look at me. Once I saw that I had her attention, I continued, “I’m not asking because I want you to turn me, okay? I was just curious. If I had known it was gonna bother you this much I wouldn’t have asked at all. I can drop it if you want.” 

Jayde’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and she let out a small, relieved sigh. I couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to her. If anything I would’ve thought that she wanted me to be a werewolf. That didn’t seem to be the case at all, which surprised me. 

“Maybe lead with that next time, so I don’t get a heart attack.” She said.

My thumb brushed her hand to assure her, “Why does it scare you?” 

Jayde sighed in mild frustration. “Well, because of what I just told you. It isn’t easy. It’s dangerous and agonizing. I had the benefit of being born like this. People that are turned have to work twice as hard to be like what I am. It takes years for a new werewolf to get a good handle on it. Most of the scary stories you hear about werewolves tearing people apart? That’s usually someone that was newly turned.”

“So, you think it would turn me into a monster.” There was no desire in me to be a werewolf, but there was something about Jayde’s tone that irked me. Like she thought I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. 

“No,” Jayde shook her head, “No, I don’t think anything would be able to turn you into a monster, but it would change you. And if you didn’t like what you became, then there’s no undoing it. You would hate your own existence, and I can’t- I won’t risk that with you.”

Any animosity I felt faded away at her words. It wasn’t about her at all, it was about me. How I would feel and react to being a werewolf. Again I was struck by how much Jayde actually loved me. 

“I’m sorry.” I told her genuinely, feeling bad. “Look, I honestly don’t want to be a werewolf. At least not any time soon. I just realized that I’ve never really asked you about the whole,” I motioned at her awkwardly, “Werewolfie thing.” 

Jayde’s sigh turned into a light laugh, “I didn’t mean to be weird… I love what I am. And I guess, in a sense, I would love it if you were like me too, but,” she took a moment to shake her head, “I don’t want to change you into something that you don’t want to be. If you asked me to turn you, and you ended up hating it, then that would be on me.” 

“It would be on me, Jay.” I corrected. 

“When you turn someone, you’re responsible for them.” Jayde said softly, “So, it would be your choice, but it would be my fault.”

I understood, then, that her frustration was more rooted in her werewolf culture, but I didn’t want her to hold any more guilt in her life. Even hypothetical. “Well, if that ever happens, I wouldn’t blame you.” 

“You should.” Jayde replied. 

I held her gaze for a minute or so, feeling how seriously she took this scenario. The air around us was filled with a heaviness. This wasn’t a topic that Jayde enjoyed, even with it just being my curiosity. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable anymore, but I also wanted to know more, so I decided on a slight shift in my questioning.

“What was it like for you?”

“To turn for the first time?” She asked, and I nodded, “Well, for purebreds, we don’t usually turn until around puberty. The first turn is always on a full moon, and it’s always unavoidable.” 

“For people that are turned too?” 

Jayde nodded with a confirming hum, “The full moon always calls out to us, but the more you work on your control, the easier it is to avoid a turn during one if you want. Though, most of us like to turn on a full moon. It’s better to.” She took a sip of water and brought the conversation back to my original question, “You’ll get signs about a week before your first turn to let you know that it’s coming. For me, my bones ached, I was irritable, and I had bursts of increased senses and strength.” 

“That seems like a bad combination.” I noted. 

Jayde chuckled, “Yeah, I was a nightmare to be around during that time. One night, I slammed my door so hard that it broke the door frame, and I wasn’t even really trying.”

I couldn’t hold back an amused laugh, “The look on your face must’ve been priceless.”

“Better believe it.” She agreed, and then her smile became somewhat sad, “My parents were pretty patient with me, though. I guess they understood what I was going through. They had this tradition that when someone in the family is going to have their first turn, they take them deep into the wilderness to camp. They told me all about the history of our species. How we always felt more at home when we were consumed by nature and could run free in our wolf forms. And they were right.” 

“Did it hurt?”

“The first turn is always the worst, even for a purebred. If I had fought it, then it would’ve been a lot worse, but it wasn’t unbearable. Once I let go…” Jayde was looking out into the forest with a wistful expression, “Well, it finally felt like I was who I was supposed to be.” 

I smile at her, at the obvious joy she felt from her memories. The fact that Jayde had always had this strong sense of self was admirable. It made me wonder if I had anything like that. If there was a quality that was so deeply rooted in my soul that no one could take it away or change it. Surprisingly, I had never really thought about it before. 

“I’m glad,” I brought her hand up to touch my lips briefly, “Because who you are is the person I love.” 

Jayde’s cheeks displayed a subtle tint in color, and she smiled almost shyly. I loved how I could make her blush. Here was this sexy, badass werewolf, that I’ve seen knock out a grown man with one punch, and I could make her blush. 

“You know, for the record, I think you would make a pretty good werewolf.” she told me, her bashful smile turning into a crooked grin. 

I laughed even though I knew she was speaking the truth, “I’ll keep that in mind, Jay.”

Her hand came up to caress my cheek, and I leaned into her touch. Through her amusement, I caught the faintest bit of something in her eyes. Maybe fear or... dread. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and I wondered if I only imagined it. Before I could think too much about it, Jayde dropped her hand and looked around. “You ready to keep going?”

I nodded, deciding that what I may or may not have seen didn’t warrant questioning, “Yeah.”

[deadinsidedressage]

do you think that ppl should not be ''taught'' to be scared of stallions? Sure you can't just think that they are like geldings and easy to train. Finnhorse breed for example is starting to little by little having more incest in it since there is not enough stallions and because ppl are taught that even slightest move means they are going to kill you, who would wanna buy a stallion. Then there is everything else like going through fences but those things should be ''easy'' to fix with training.

The sentiment that stallions are entirely dangerous and wildly different from geldings or mares is a fairly uniquely American sentiment. In Europe, you have children showing stallions and it’s a non-issue. (I say this is uniquely American based on the anecdotal evidence of any time in the past this notion running around on here has been met with a lot of Europeans being confused we treat stallions differently).

To relate this entirely not to horses but to something else I’ve researched a lot:

I think a lot of the misconceptions about stallion aggression stems from the same place as misconceptions about “roid rage”. The way the media portrays anabolic steroid use is in a way that suggests anyone and everyone who takes it is transformed into some Mr. Hyde freak-beast who can’t control their temper and breaks everything. Unfortunately that excuse has also been used in criminal defense of athletes who murdered people instead of addressing the fact that in autopsies it’s been proven these people had repeated brain trauma that would’ve mad them more aggressive, more depressive, and more impulsive. The reality is less than 2% of steroid users (and studies are showing that’s a 2% that either has brain trauma or history of mental illness) are impacted by a massive increase in aggressive behaviors or reactions; so while there are some people who go Dr. Jekyll /Mr. Hyde when they’re on or off cycle— that’s untrue of the overwhelming majority.

I’d wager the same is true of stallions or any domesticated animal we as humans have chosen to keep. Some stallions do exhibit hyper-aggression or hyper-reactiveness as a result of remaining intact. Just like some dogs do as well. Or cats who are intact. Let’s face it— if it was just the presence of testosterone that overwhelmingly created aggression in a population of animals; then wouldn’t every single human man with sex hormones (self-produced or store-bought) be extremely aggressive? Wouldn’t we want to “geld” every man for the safety of society? Wouldn’t it also stand to reason that Mr. Olympia competitors/winners like Kai Greene, Ronnie Coleman, Jay Cutler, or Dorian Yates would inevitably be uncontrollable monsters as a result of the amount of anabolic steroids they take? You’d think so, but all these men are regarded for being extremely soft-spoken in interviews, extremely intelligent in the way they present themselves, and overall not aggressive assholes. In fact, if it were steroids that automatically created aggressive monsters... it would be Arnold Schawrzenegger with an infamous history as a domestic abuser and not Sean Penn? Not that Arnie is a perfect beacon of human decency, but the former 7-time Mr. Olympia isn’t know for aggressive or abusive antics. Sean Penn is and Sean Penn isn’t someone with a verifiable history of steroid use.

The fact of the matter is that testosterone alone doesn’t create aggression. Will I acquiesce that there are certainly outliers? Yes. However, it’s more of an issue of how we’re interacting with them. Have you ever heard the old timer wisdom of “never let a big horse know it’s big”? The idea there is that by never allowing a horse who could easily physically overpower you know that that’s the case; it’s a non-issue. If you never give the horse an interaction where it learns that it has a size advantage to get its way, then you don’t have a horse who uses its size for intimidation. Well, same can be said for handling stallions.

If you interact with a stallion in a way that’s fundamentally different because you have any fear that it’ll act different because it’s a stallion… You’ll get a horse who acts different because it’s a stallion. This isn’t some “dominance theory” nonsense where you can’t “show fear” or the horse “wins”— this is more a case of conditioning. Again, using the big horse as an example; the “big horse who knows he’s big” doesn’t use his size to his advantage because he’s the “alpha” but he uses it because he understands a basic cause and effect: “If I stretch my neck high and act big people are too afraid to make me do something I’d rather not do.” Same can be said of a lot of stallion behavior. If a stallion learns that people will back off because he acts like a “stallion”, he’ll act like a “stallion”.So, do I think people should be taught not to treat stallions differently? Yes, absolutely. Stallions aren’t evil death machines.Stallions aren’t inherently different on some incomprehensible level, but stallion ownership is like owning an intact dog--- you have to be a lot more responsible than the average owner. Someone with an intact dog shouldn’t be allowing their dog off-leash. Someone with a stallion has to be more aware when out in the public and have different “rules” they need to adhere to when showing. Just like with owning an un-spayed or un-neutered dog--- it’s not your animals that’s the probably generally; it’s the negligence and incompetence of the other animal owners you’re going to have to interact with. Aside from all these incorrect notions about stallions that are perpetrated in media & “word of mouth” equine communities--- a lot of people are discouraged from stallion ownership because of the extra precautions they need to take and complexity involved in showing or just being able to ride in public spaces. In my region, we have several stallions that regularly compete at dressage shows of all sizes. They’re all also very well-behaved. The issues that arise with them at shows comes from people not recognizing a stallion in the warm-up and giving them space. You know that picture of the obedient pitbull not eating a steak because he’s following orders to not eat the steak? Stallions at shows are a lot like that pitbull, they’re not necessarily going to cause an issue if a steak walks by--- but unlike the pitbull and the steak... a stallion in warm-up with a mare in heat riding past isn’t the only one who needs to show obedience or restraint. The mare is just as likely to be the problem. When you then consider that stallions are almost exclusively owned and showed by professionals whereas mares are still overwhelmingly shown by amateurs... that’s the issue. It’s not the stallion or the way the stallion has been conditioned or trained much of the time. It’s the issue of how amateur owners and riders react to stallions.Another complexity of showing with a stallion is the stabling situation--- again, pitbull-steak/stallion-mare comparison... it’s not certainly going to be the stallion who is the issue. Whereas a mare or gelding owner you can get around stabling issues of a mare being listed as a gelding or a gelding listed as a mare in show paperwork (one of my mares was always incorrectly filed as a gelding at one showing facility); stallions owners can’t easily take on these mistakes. Even with greatly behaved stallions you can have issues being stabled next to a mare because as much as you can make a point that stallions aren’t aggressive or bad because they’re stallions, you also can’t ignore the fact that they’re stallions.As much as I want to hold-on to the pitbull-steak analogy... at the end of the day, the pitbull isn’t trying to have sex with the steak but a stallion is 100% biologically wired to have sex with a mare. There are instances when training doesn’t hold up against biologic impulses. That’s why animals will mate with their parents or siblings--- at the end of the day you can’t convey consequence for sexual response the way you can convey consequence for misbehavior. No stallion owner wants to deal with their stallion breaking down the stall because he’s too near a mare in heat because the show facility fucked up and listed him as a gelding. 

In order to own and compete (or own and keep at “home” without competing) a stallion, there’s a lot of work that has to go into place. For ownership you need a large facility to keep the stallion away from mares. For showing, you need to be extremely proactive and constantly be on top of keeping your stallion out of scenarios that could end badly. It’s a lot. 

So, no I don’t think it’s the belief in stallions being aggressive that prevents larger scale stallion ownership. I think it’s an issue with stallion ownership having more difficulties associated with it and those are difficulties that (again, focusing on America) most owners do not want to take on---even professionals. There are many breeding farms that only have mares. There are many professionals who only want to ride geldings or mares because they don’t want to deal with the associated difficulties of campaigning a stallion. 

Are the misconceptions about stallions or difficulties associated with stallions related to inbreeding and poor genetic variance? No. To assume this was the case would be to ignore the fact that every single animal isn’t breeding quality. The biggest reason out there why people don’t own and show stallions has nothing to do with misinformation or extra care--- it has everything to do with the fact there’s absolutely zero reason to keep a non-breeding animal intact. 

My cat isn’t neutered because I was afraid he’d be dangerous. My cat is neutered because there was absolutely no reason for him to not be neutered. He’s not a purebred with excellent conformation, so he’s not going to be producing babies. Keeping in him intact would’ve just meant I would have to deal with a lot more issues making sure he never tried to impregnate another cat. Keeping him intact would’ve meant I possibly wouldn’t be able to safely keep him with my spayed female and may never be able to bring another cat into our home until he’d passed. I absolutely wouldn’t be able to let him outside off-leash (which I don’t believe in outdoor cats anyway) and potentially never be able to have him outside on-leash. There would be far too many feral intact cats that would cause him to harm me with misplaced aggression if he went outside. 

It’s the same for horses. Unless that horse is determined to be of breeding quality conformation and performance... then you don’t keep it intact. Why risk a stallion breaking out to impregnate the neighbor’s mares when you’re just keeping the horse for your personal enjoyment and the horse isn’t of any genetic benefit to its breed? You don’t want to be responsible for anymore unwanted cats or dogs in the world--- that’s why you neuter. You don’t want to be responsible for anymore unwanted horses in the world either--- that’s part of why we geld. 

Breeds that are suffering from too small a genetic pool don’t benefit from allowing subpar genes. Gelded Finnhorses (or gelded any other breed) are gelded because they do not possess traits that should be passed down. If you breed low quality horses, you get lower and lower quality horses. The only way to salvage breeds that don’t have enough genetic variance is to allow in outside breeds. Which is hard to do with breeds that have closed books and aren’t open to the idea of losing “purity”--- which just leads to a continued degradation of the “pure” horses left. More people owning stallions can’t fix a small gene pool.The horses that are marked for breeding quality are marked for breeding quality (generally) before they ever hit the market. Are some horses that could be beneficial to the breeding pool that never get bred because they’re sold into the sport market by breeders without the resources to keep them? Yes, but generally horses that are actually going to be benefiting the breed stay within the breeding community.

[artistic-writer]

Alii dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) - CS Werewolf AU - Ch 19

Title: Alii dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon) by @artistic-writer   artwork by @cocohook38 & @artistic-writer​

Rating: E (overall rating) for explicit sexual content, language and themes throughout. Trigger warnings will follow and be added as they are needed to avoid spoilers.

Art by @cocohook38 - Poster - Emma - David - Killian - James - Walsh - Graham - Liam - Brennan - Ruby

Chapter Art by @cocohook38 - Ch1 - Ch2 - Ch3 - Ch4 (NSFW) - Ch5

Art by @artistic-writer - 1 - 2 - 3 -

Also on: AO3 - FF

A/N: Werewolf Sunday! Here is ch 19 guys - sorry it’s late but I am back at work now, and I forgot to queue it up!

Massive thanks to my wonderful betas, @hookedonapirate who is one of the best beta’s this fandom has to offer - I seriously love her guys, and she deserves all the good things <3 <3 and @kmomof4 to whom this fic is also gifted for her birthday and for creating the @cssns  Thank you to my crew, @hollyethecurious  @resident-of-storybrooke @courtorderedcake  @doodlelolly0910 and special thanks to @killian-whump @killianmesmalls and @sherlockianwhovian for how they helped with the last few chapters. And to @flipperbrain  who drew THIS piece of art for this fic in December, before it was even written!

Taglist: @cssns @resident-of-storybrooke  @hollyethecurious  @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate  @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38  @branlovesouat  @teamhook @snidgetsafan  @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness  @lenfaz  @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones  @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin  @deathbycaptainswan  @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked  @snowbellewells  @wordsmith-storyweaver  @jennjenn615  @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair @cs-forlife

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“To Graham and Ruby!” Brennan declared loudly, arm raised above his head and a small, glass tumbler in his hand. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, and the sound of ice cubes clinking the side of glasses echoed in their corner of the pub as Liam and Killian joined him in his toast.

“Graham and Ruby!” Liam echoed gleefully.

“To Graham and Ruby,” Killian repeated quietly, his voice a soft whisper next to his brother’s. He was happy for his friends, he really was, but he was also now sitting in a public place with his brother and his father, so his anxiety was a little spiked. He gave his father a suspicious sideways glance as he threw his head back and swallowed the rum in his glass, the burn of the liquid causing a warmth in the pit of his stomach.

Three glasses hit the dark wooden table together, years of grime evident in the thickness of the lacklustre varnish coat. It was patchy, shiny in places where others were dull and Killian tapped his outstretched arm at the spot next to his glass. His focus was on his fingertip, the nail digging into the soft table top where it really shouldn’t, and he ground his back teeth a little as a silence fell over their table.

“So,” Brennan began, twisting his body in the chair next to Killian’s so he was facing his son.

Killian knew what was coming and he held up his hand to cut him off, his pointed finger turning into a balled fist instantly. “Please, don’t apologise again,” he bit out.

“Killian,” Liam admonished, a frown on his face. “Not here,” he warned gently, scooting his chair forward under the table when a gaggle of humans sauntered past laughing.

“Look, Killian, you asked me here, remember? I can just as easily not be here.” Brennan looked to Liam for help with his wayward youngest, but neither had time to say a word before Killian snapped again.

“Oh, that’s what you are good at, isn’t it? Running away.” Killian slumped back in his chair, fist balling even harder on the table, leg twitching under the table and bobbing up and down on the ball of his foot.

“Okay, let’s all just calm down for a second. Shall I get us some more drinks?” Liam pushed himself to his feet, pausing to await Killian’s response. He was met with silence, his brother clearly haunted by not only his past but also more recent events.

“I’m not sure that would be wise.” Brennan shook his head, pointing at Killian accusingly. They had been in the pub some hours, firstly to celebrate the birth of Davin and then, once the excitement had dissipated, to talk over Kilian’s plan.

Killian had wanted answers. He was convinced his father’s mistakes could change his future, teaching him how to avoid the council and allow him to be with Emma. Only, his father had given him nothing more than the cold, hard realisation that the more he tried, the less likely it would ever be that he could be with Emma. Maybe if she was a lesser wolf, but the heir to Misthaven would never be able to simply disappear. “I think your brother has had enough,” Brennan whispered low, his words directed at Liam.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough!” Killian’s voice boomed over the table and the barman shot them a look. “Maybe you should get some more drinks, Liam,” Killian spat, waving an arm towards the bar. “Father might not return if he goes.” Liam sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s childish antics and gave his father a knowing nod before making his way to the bar. Brennan watched him go, his demeanour and patience for Killian wearing thin.

“Now, see here, boy,” Brennan growled, leaning over and grabbing Killian by the head. His hand splayed out over the younger wolf’s skull, fingers digging into the thin covering of flesh painfully, and Killian tried to pull away uselessly. “I’m sorry I don’t have the answers you want,” he growled into Killian’s ear, eyes flicking around the pub in case anyone was watching. “But if you want to play this little dominance act, then I would be more than willing to take this outside.” Killian gave his father a sideways glance, their ears touching, and Killian turned his head away from his father’s stare as best he could in his position. “Better,” Brennan said softly, loosening his grip.

“Get off of me,” Killian spat through clenched teeth, wrenching his head from his father’s grip.

Brennan cocked his head sideways, taking in his broken son. Scars, fresh and old, littered Killian’s body from what he could see, and his heart softened instantly. Brennan had known bigger, pureblood wolves with less marks than his son. Killian’s fury was justified, his frustrations even more so. Brennan understood how he just wanted to be with the woman he loved, he had known that feeling, but he also knew Killian was trying to distract himself from the mental scars of being tortured.

It wasn’t his fault. He was half human after all.

“Killian, I can help you be a better wolf,” Brennan coaxed. “Faster and stronger. You can protect yourself, for next time.”

Killian stifled a laugh. “I don’t plan on being tortured again any time soon.”

“Of course not, but…” Brennan didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Killian cut him off anger, his words venomous and spiteful.

“It’s clear you cannot help me with what I need, so stop trying to find ways to bond with me. We are not the same, we never will be. Liam might have forgiven you for breaking our mother’s heart, but you would have to really sacrifice to win my trust.”

“Is your hatred for me or Neverland right now?” Brennan asked gently, trying to pull his son out of his rage. “Or do you just hate wolves?” he suggested, watching Killian flinch at his words.

Killian looked up at his father, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth once more. He was void of expression, the cold, dark stare he was giving his father full of resentment that he couldn’t control. Killian’s inner wolf was channelling his rage and Emma had unlocked the beast, paving the way for his true nature to reveal itself, and whilst it was a human-like wolf for her, he seemed unable to contain his wolfish humanity right now. Killian had thought he was okay with his father, had thought he understood the reasons behind his departure, but as it turned out, he was no closer to being able to welcome him with open arms than he had first thought.

“The only pureblood I’ve seen you tolerate is Humbert,” Brennan sighed, waving a hand at Killian.

“He saved my life,” Killian growled defensively.

“He’s still a purebred, Killian. A big, bad wolf who has done his fair share of killing for his pack. He might have been your savior, but tell me,” Brennan pried, leaning forward until his elbows were resting on the table. He laced his fingers and licked his lips, eyebrows arching on his forehead. “Do you not see how we are all the same?”

“I’m nothing like you. You made Liam and I without a second thought. If you had cared, you would have just left our mother alone and not forced us into this life.” Killian’s cheeks flushed with his anger, pricking pink under his assaulting words, his voice low and even so only a Were could hear.

“So we’re all monsters,” Brennan surmised sarcastically.

“No, not all pureblood wolves are monsters,” Killian grumbled with a shake of his head.

“Of course,” Brennan nodded with realisation. “The Nolan wolf. Emma.”

“Don’t you say her name,” Killian challenged, looking his father up and down from across the table, sizing up his potential opponent for battle. “Blood doesn’t matter with us…”

“And it didn’t with your mother and I,” Brennan interrupted. “And yet, we were ripped apart. Forced apart by the powers that be, the powers that govern our kind.” Killian shot him another look, nostrils flaring. “Her kind, Killian. She is a pureblood.”

“We’ll find a way to be together,” Killian said defiantly. “I will not fail where you have. I will fight for love.”

“Listen to you. You think Nolan will accept you because his daughter loves you? You’re wrong, Killian, and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I’m willing to die for love,” Killian said in a shaky breath, swallowing hard when his own words took him by surprise. “For some of us, love is more powerful than fear.”

“Is that what you think me leaving you, your brother and the woman I loved was?” Brennan snorted a laugh, slamming his hand down on the sticky table surface. “It wasn’t fear, my boy, it was sacrifice. I sacrificed my love, so that you could all survive.” Brennan’s ear tips turned red, something Killian knew that his own did when he was riled. “You may not believe it, but I love you, Killian. You are my son, and I love you.”

Killian was taken back by his father’s words, the air leaving his lungs and his face paling. He had waited his entire life to hear those words from his father, hear them actually spoken to him rather than in a general passing comment from his mother or brother. It shook him. He wasn’t ready to hear it. “Prove it,” he whimpered, his gruff voice shaking as tears pricked at his eyes. Brennan’s silence spoke volumes and Killian licked his lips, sucking in a defeated breath.

Killian pushed himself to his feet, stopping to look upon his father who was staring at his empty glass in contemplation. Of what Killian didn’t know, but he had given him enough of his time. He needed to get back to Emma, back to Liam’s loft and be with her, to make sure she was safe. He felt like only he could keep her safe but before he could make a move to exit the pub, his father grabbed his forearm and halted him in his tracks.

“Wait,” Brennan said desperately, flicking his gaze up to Killian with pleading eyes. The conflict on Brennan’s features made him frown and Killian titled his head curiously. “There is a plan,” Brennan began, his voice hushed. He tugged on Killian’s arm until his son sat back in his chair, just as Liam arrived back to the table with three fresh rums.

“What plan?” Liam asked dumbly, repeating the tail end of the conversation he had just walked in on.

“Hush, boy,” Brennan whispered gruffly, pulling Liam into his seat too. He leaned forward, chin inches from the grimy table top and both Liam and Killian mirrored his actions. “There is a plan to attack Misthaven,” he admitted, casting a glance around the bar in case they had been followed.

“What? When?” Killian demanded, sitting back up with panic in his eyes. If Misthaven was to be attacked, Emma had to know.

“Soon,” Brennan told him. “I’m sorry, that’s all I know.”

“And how can we trust a Neverland wolf?” Killian growled, wrinkling his nose in disgust and shooting Liam a glance. “After everything.”

“Killian, I didn’t know! Do you think I would have let him do those things to you if I had known you were his target?” Brennan bellowed, exasperated. “Walsh’s orders were to find the Nolan bitch but he got caught up in revenge. He has never stopped talking about how he would kill the wolf who gave him that scar.” Brennan's lips twitched into a proud smile that quickly faded away when he realised what he had said, and to who. “I didn’t mean…”

“Emma should know,” Liam insisted, distracting Killian from berating his father for his choice of words. Liam’s hand on his shoulder shook him roughly and he was confused for a second at Liam’s words. “She should go back to Misthaven.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “You’d both like that, wouldn’t you?”

“To warn her family!” Liam told him, irritated. “Family is important, Killian.” Liam stared at him, his blue eyes flecked with grey that spoke to years of knowledge that Killian would only hope to acquire. Liam was older and he had lived more, loved more and lost more than anyone he knew. “It’s why you can’t go with her,” Liam shook his head defiantly. “You have to warn her and then stay away, lie low.”

“Like hell I will!” Killian barked.

“He’s right,” Brennan piped up. “You will not be welcome at Misthaven. The alpha will kill you because of what you are. You’ll never be accepted.”

Killian looked between the two men, both fatigued and haggard, the lines on their faces from a combination of the sun and long years of worrying. Brennan most likely always worried about Killian, always wondering if he had survived his first change as Liam had. Wondering if he was as strong. Liam had aged through worrying for his brother, watched him try to find out who he was through fight after fight until his brawl with Walsh opened his eyes to his true nature. Killian had nearly killed Walsh that night, teeth stained red with blood as they had fled and Killian simply smiling with an arrogance that showed exactly how close his wolf nature was to taking over. It had chilled Liam to the bone at what his brother was capable of.

“I’ll take my chances at Misthaven. Can’t be as bad as what Neverland did to me,” he said sadly.

“Jesus, Killian,” Liam scolded. “Now is not the time to be stubbornly blinded by love, or lust, or whatever Emma’s heat is doing to you.”

“I’m not,” Killian bit out again.

“Then drop the hero complex and see sense!” Liam pleaded.

“This isn’t about being a hero, it’s about doing the right thing.” Killian pushed himself to his feet once more and straightened his jacket. “If you want to help, you’ll find out exactly when the attack is,” Killian said to his father, who nodded in agreement. “And help Graham get Ruby and Davin to a safe place,” he said to Liam. “If we can warn Misthaven before the attack, we could be spared.”

“This is madness,” Liam sighed into his hands, dragging his hands down his face. “David Nolan will never spare a mongrel. He exiled his own brother!”

“I have to try,” Killian said sadly, giving his brother a tight lipped smile.

--

Emma was beginning to worry. Killian had been gone for over three hours, talking with his father and Liam in a nearby pub. It was within walking distance but anything could’ve happened to him on his way back. Were they ambushed? Had Walsh finally found them? And why, after so long, had her lust not dissipated? Wolf heats were only supposed to last a few days at most, but it seemed Emma’s was hanging around.

And this time it was more intense than any before. It was definitely because of Killian, Emma had no doubt. From the second she had laid eyes on him in the bar, she was smitten. Using alcohol to lower their inhibition enough to fuck on his car was nothing, something she had done many times before, only this time it felt different. It felt real, warm, and she never wanted to feel any other way.

They were connected, Emma knew it and so did Killian. Whether they believed in the fates or not, there were just too many coincidences to prove their souls were anything but entwined. Emma could feel Killian all the time, his presence forever there, even when he was not. It calmed her a little to know she still felt him in the world, her heart beating in time with his wherever he happened to be, but her anxiety had been steadily growing as she awaited his return.

And it didn’t help that she was horny as hell.

When she finally heard the click of the door latch, Emma was on her feet and running to the door as fast as her legs would carry her. Killian had barely closed the door behind himself when he turned and was slammed into full force by Emma, all of the breath leaving his lungs from the impact as she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands were in his hair, her mouth sliding against his as he walked them back into the loft, hands cupping her behind and holding her aloft. There wasn’t an inch between their bodies, Emma flattening herself to his chest and moaning against his mouth when her nipples pebbled against the fabric of her blouse, her back arching for more friction and her mouth parting to invite his tongue inside of her own.

Killian’s mind was in a fog. Everything he had meant to tell her had disappeared the second he opened the door and was overpowered by her scent. Emma was everywhere, in every room and he was immediately turned on, his thoughts invaded by their antics earlier that day. He knew his anger from talking to his father would evaporate with her love, love he craved like the air he breathed. He had needed to touch her, needed to feel her, needed to see her, and now she was all over him, saying everything all at once without uttering a single word.

Killian’s legs hit the edge of Liam’s couch and he fell forward, dropping Emma from his grasp, her fingers scraping through Killian’s scruffy beard and her lips tearing from his. She just had the foresight to grab onto his belt, looping her finger behind the leather strap and pulling him with her, his arms flying out to stop his descent so he didn’t crush her. Killian clambered over the couch arm, a sly smirk across his lips as he captured her mouth once more, tongue begging for entry immediately. His hands found the edges of her blouse, buttons flying in all directions when he pulled the opposing sides apart. Emma squeaked in delight.

Eyes closed, her hands threaded through his beard once more; it was longer than when they had met, but not distracting from his stunning good looks one bit. Her fingers itched to touch his skin, but from her current position she was helpless, only able to find his elfish ears and give them a playful tug, her open mouth smile letting a short, salacious laugh escape against his. Killian raised an eyebrow, not breaking the kiss or opening his own eyes, not an ounce of distaste towards the way Emma was abusing his ears. In fact, he kind of liked it.

Killian awkwardly kicked off his boots, letting them fall to the floor beside the couch with the dull thudding sound of rubber against wood. Emma let her hands roam over his skull, fingertips dancing over the chords of his neck and across the width of his shoulders, his eager panting turning her on more than she had ever thought possible. Killian’s hands kneaded her bra clad breasts roughly, thumbs brushing over the hard buds beneath the padded lace and Emma hooked her bare feet into the back of his thighs in response.

Her hands found his belt, the clatter of metal the only sound they could hear other than their breathing, but as she tried to pull it open, Killian grabbed her hands. Emma was confused for a second, about to pull her mouth from his when, with a smirk, Killian raised her arms above her head and crossed them at her wrists, holding them both against the couch with one, powerful hand. Emma let out a little appeased sigh, her lungs screaming for the oxygen that invaded her chest when Killian slid his mouth from hers and began kissing her face.

He kissed her cheek, flushed red from her arousal, the flesh like lava under his lips. His kiss-swollen lips found her ear lobe and when he latched his mouth onto the bulb of flesh, all of the hair on Emma’s neck stood to attention and she arched off the couch with a moan. Her hands grabbed at his, trying to be free but not really at the same time because the sentiment it gave her to be controlled by a more dominant wolf was intoxicating. She bit her bottom lip, hips bucking up into his as he teased his lips down her neck and slid his searing hot tongue across her collarbone, gobbling up her bra strap with his teeth and pulling it over the curve of her shoulder.

Emma gasped, her nipples hardening even more in their padded confines, the material of her bra chafing against the peaks as she writhed and strained against his grip. She whimpered in her throat, swallowing a hard lump down that she had forgotten to until now. Her mouth tasted of Killian, the burn of second-hand rum hitting the heat in her stomach like a firework and igniting the throbbing sensation between her legs.

Finally, with his own guttural growl, Killian rolled his hips and ground his hardening length into the apex of Emma’s thighs. It was like a paradoxical relief for both of them, sating their needs only temporarily, both of them taking a second to let out a breathy sigh. Killian’s grip on Emma’s wrists tightened, his forehead resting against her shoulder as he fought to compose himself with a shudder after inhaling the smell of her skin.

“Exquisite,” Killian hummed, the taste of Emma dancing on his tongue.

Emma turned her head and pressed her lips to his forehead, the only part she could reach and Killian offered her a quick, wolfish grin as he followed the curve of her breast with his mouth, planting delicate kisses to her skin with each of her heaving breaths. He smirked against her skin when she whined in frustration, his nose dipping into the valley of her breasts and inhaling even more of her strong musk, the perspiration that had begun to form there transferring her pheromones directly to his senses.

“I am helpless when you are around, Emma,” Killian told her tenderly. “I could savour you forever.”

He took his time, dragging the tip of his nose across her breasts, from one to the other and back again, inhaling her, tasting her in his mouth from smell alone. He thrust his hips at her again, his other hand skimming down the side of her body until it reached her hip, pushing her into the cushions of the couch when she tried to buck her hips back at him. Emma pouted but then a devilish grin erupted on her face when Killian’s hand found his jeans and popped open the button, pushing his fly down and sighing with relief when his erection finally sprang free from the fold in his boxers.

“There’s my big boy,” Emma purred, tilting her head back up to meet his gaze and biting her lip hungrily. “So much for savouring,” she purred. Killian grinned, his tongue skimming over the ridges of his canines before he surged forward once more and kissed her hard. Emma felt her neck spasm from the force and she could feel the tingle of pins and needles down her elevated arms. Killian must have read her mind because no sooner had she shifted her weight beneath him to relieve the ache, Killian released her arms and moved both his hands to the waistband of her leggings.

“Mine,” he muttered against her lips, his tone dark and feral. It set Emma’s blood on fire and she was lifted effortlessly as he tugged her leggings and her underwear down in one go, his fingernails scraping the skin on her hip and making her cry out.

“I was getting worried,” Emma smirked playfully. “I was scared something had happened.”

“Hmm?” Killian hummed through a daze.

“You were gone so long,” Emma panted, frowning when she realised he had stopped undressing her.

In the next second, Killian was hit with a sudden remorse, remembering the information he had come back to relay to the half naked woman in front of him. The smell of Emma’s arousal, the sweetness like a refreshing, thirst quenching drink, pulled him in, clouding his mind. He was dizzy, drunk on the temptation between her legs already and with a frustrated growl and a last inhale, he stood and tried to ignore the pounding blood in his engorged member.

“What?” Emma asked quickly, concerned, propping herself up on her elbows. Her hair was a mess, wisps of flyaway blonde sticking out in all directions from static and her blouse hanging open loosely. “Killian, what is it?”

“I can’t,” Killian growled to himself, righting himself to his feet and turning from her with a blush. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, tucking himself back into his jeans and ignoring the way his erection still strained against his fly as he rebuttoned them.

“What happened?” Emma pried, pulling the edges of her blouse together to cover her bra. Her skin still buzzed from his touch, but something was wrong, something had happened and for a second she felt guilty about putting her own urges before anything else.

“I…” Killian began, his face turning into a grimace as he tried to will away Emma’s scent. It was everywhere, invading his nostrils like a temptation he feared he could not resist much longer.

Emma lifted her legs and moved to a sit, scooting to the edge of the couch cushion and reaching to the floor, pulling her leggings back on. They would never get any conversation finished like this, her so tightly wound and him even more so. She stood, raking her fingers through her tousled hair and shaking it over her shoulders, moving to him, feet silently padding across the wooden floor.

“Killian?” Emma whispered gently, her hands smoothing over the material of his shirt that covered his back. He gasped, tensing momentarily before he relaxed into her touch, her talented fingertips kneading the ripple of muscles on his shoulders. Emma pressed her lips to his back, the material of his shirt tickling her lips as she kissed his spine, her hands sliding down his arms and her fingers lacing with his. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t think straight,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay,” Emma repeated, soothing his self-directed anger as she wrapped her arms around his slender waist. “Have I worn you out?” She teased, pushing herself onto her tip toes and tucking her chin into the curve of his shoulder.

Killian’s laugh vibrated through her chest as she embraced him, his hands finding hers and holding her to him lovingly. “Not a chance,” he quipped. “I have something to tell you and I think it would be better received if we were clothed.”

“Oh?” Emma pulled back a little, heels hitting the floor with a thump as she arched her brow. “Will it lead to more enjoyable activities?” Emma teased, her smile lighting up her face only briefly before Killian turned in her arms and she felt the pang of sadness he was emitting.

“Not this time, love,” Killian admitted sadly. He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles and watching the motion of his digits intently.

He was nervous, but more than that, he was petrified of the words he was about to say. Emma would want to return home to warn her family, he knew that much was a fact, but he wasn’t sure how she would react to the news that he had already decided to go with her. He knew it was a death sentence, his brother’s warnings had not fallen on deaf ears, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Emma, his half of the moon, and making sure she stayed shining as bright as she could.

Killian knew, with all his heart, Emma’s light would burn out if her father died. It was why he was willing to sacrifice his own life for hers. His life for her happiness. Killian knew he would never forgive himself if he didn’t tell Emma about the plot to attack Misthaven. She had a right to know, to be given the chance to stop it, and he would be there, fighting at her side, regardless of if he were welcome or not.

“What is it?” Emma asked worried, searching his face. “Killian, you can tell me anything,” she assured him softly, her hand reaching up to trace the outline of his brow, easing the tension.

He let out a nervous laugh, avoiding her gaze again. “I’m not sure there is any easy way to say this,” he faltered, swallowing hard.

“Killian, you’re scaring me,” Emma said, her face paling.

“It’s Misthaven,” Killian said, the word on his tongue already like the seal on his fate. “Neverland plans to attack Misthaven. James means to kill your father, Emma.” Killian looked up finally, Emma’s pupils wide and the edges of her eyes watery with tears that threatened to spring from her eyelids.

“How do you know?” She managed weakly.

“My father,” Killian told her with a slight hint of aggression. “He is trying to make amends, prove he loves me,” Killian bit out, the term of endearment striking anger into his heart. Emma gave him a confused look, her head shaking a little as she tried to fathom his words. “It doesn’t matter,” Killian dismissed his rant with a shake of his head. “I came to tell you as soon as I found out.”

“When?” Emma managed, dazed with anxiety.

“We don’t know,” Killian admitted sadly.

“You don’t know?” Emma screeched, stepping from his embrace and running her hands through her hair. She paced away from him, Killian’s heart-shattering.

“My father is trying to find out,” Killian assured her, trying to appease her stress.

“Can we trust him?” Emma spun back to face him and he answered her with silence. He had been asking himself the same question all day. “He is a Neverland wolf, right? Why would he tell us something like this?”

“I can only assume he feels guilty,” Killian shrugged, moving towards her and catching her as she paced past him. He wrapped her up in his arms, holding her to his chest and that was all Emma needed for the dam of sorrow to burst, hot, fat tears spilling down her cheeks. She buried her face against Killian’s chest, clutching the material of his shirt, her hands shaking as sobs wracked her body.

“This is my fault,” she cried.

“What? Absolutely not!” Killian told her firmly. “This isn’t and will never be your fault, Emma, you hear me?” He pulled her from his chest, clutching her face in his hands and dipping his head until he caught her gaze. Emma clutched his hands to her face, suddenly child-like and weak, and Killian titled his head sideways sympathetically. “You hear me?” He repeated softly, offering her a twitch of a smile when she finally met his gaze.

Emma nodded. Killian had the ability to calm her instantly, smoothing out the tension in her bones with a single action. It could be his touch, or his smile but it was always him. Part of Emma’s sadness was the realisation that their romance was now no longer fun, the true nature of their dangerous liaison hitting her like a truck. If she wanted to stay with Killian, she could, but they would forever be looking over their shoulders for Walsh or the Neverland pack. If she returned to Misthaven she would have to do so alone and she wasn’t sure which option scared her the most.

“I can’t lose you,” Emma sniffed, her hand sliding from his and flattening over his chest. Killian’s heart was racing in his chest, she could feel it thundering against her palm, because he was thinking exactly the same thing.

“You won’t,” he said softly, his voice cracking.

“I have to go home,” Emma whimpered.

“I know,” Killian barely whispered back, his forehead resting against hers. She let out another heart wrenching cry and his closed his eyes, fighting back his own tears that would stain his face at any second. He took a breath, the air between their faces minimal and with shaky lips, tilted his head and planted a soft kiss to Emma’s lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? No!” Emma cried. Killian nodded, holding her forearms as she tried to step back away from him once more.

“I’m coming with you to help your father,” he told her, affirming the fear on her face.

“Killian…” Emma began, shocked.

“I know,” he said softly, licking his lips. “But I can’t let you go alone. When the time comes, I have to come with you.”

“But, my father.” Emma didn’t have to say anything else because they both knew what it meant for him to even set foot on Misthaven land, let alone show up with the heir on his arm.

“It will be okay,” Killian lied, forcing a weak smile. “Family is important. I can’t in good conscience risk yours knowing I could have done something.”

“So is love,” Emma said on a breathy sigh. “Our love is important.” Her lower lip trembled as she looked up to him with wide eyes, blurry and filled with tears that never seemed to end. Dark lines stained her face and Killian cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing away the fallen droplets with his thumbs.

“Our love is the most important thing in my life,” Killian told her tenderly, fingers tucking some stray hairs behind her ear.

“So stay here,” Emma pleaded. “Please. I’ll come for you when I’ve warned my father.”

Killian appreciated her attempts at trying to find a solution, but he had already been over the scenarios a thousand times in his head, and there was no situation he could think of where David Nolan accepted him. Not a single one.

“We both know your father will never let you return to me,” Killian sighed sadly.

Emma’s sobs began again and she threw herself into his arms, hand finding the back of his head and pulling his face to hers. She crushed her lips to his fiercely, kissing him desperately as even more tears fell down her face. He kissed her back, his despair etched into his cheeks by his own tears, lips quivering against hers. There was so much emotion in their kiss but they moved slowly, lips sliding gently with passion, breaths hitching from their sobbing like they might never get another chance.

“He’ll kill you,” Emma whimpered, her voiced lace with the most sadness Killian had ever heard.

“He can try,” Killian teased lightly, his lips curving into a small smile. Emma pressed her mouth to his again, tongue tasting the seam of his lips, memorising the texture and feel of them against her own.

“Is this what the dream means?” Emma cried, breaking the kiss but pressing her face to his. “The names on the tombstones? Are they ours?” Killian brushed his knuckles down the side of her cheek, shaking his head.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Killian promised faithfully. “And I’ll be with you. Forever.”

“I love you,” Emma whispered on a sigh.

“And I you.” Killian kissed her again, long and slow, but he hated the fact that whilst he had promised he would always be with her, he didn’t know if he would be alive or just a memory in her heart.

[wingdgaster]

⚠️ - the worst deed they’ve done/crime they’ve committed?

Send a Symbol - ‘Learn Something’

      He remembers… or at least, from what he can pick through the static of his memory… in his youth, he had been offered a grand position… by a proud headmaster that had caused him much grief in his childhood. And he knew even now, it had been a means of trying to shut him up and stop him from climbing the metaphorical ladder to his goal… 

      Though as it now stands, he couldn’t for the life of him, grasp whatever that goal had in fact been. Something to do with royalty… something… the arcane? Gods, it left his head throbbing just to think of it, and ears rushing with static. 

      In refusing the position of the academy’s standing Archmage, someone that would’ve seen over the entirety o the Siberian division and had a hand in the very Council’s proceedings… he could still feel the pride in his chest as he turned away and walked. 

      He could hear the indignant shrieks of the Headmaster… his name had been Dreifus Harmond… he could remember that much, a skeletal, old-fashioned old… pardon his language, bastard of a monster. How he’d regret this, how he couldn’t walk away from this offer, and the scuffle of guardsmen holding back the old coot so he couldn’t fire a bolt of fire his way to try and command his attention. 

      And he’d left… walked down the spiraling stairs, out the front gates, through the courtyard, with his father hot on his trail. The pride in the old blacksmith’s chest, but the uncertainty that panged through the empathic range he’d been gifted with in his youth. 

      “ ̨҉̶͟ ́̕ ̶͡ ̶͏̕͝ ͞҉͝͏ ̧́͟͝ ̨͜͏̵̀ ̷̸̶͟͜ ̨͏͢ ́͞҉̴͜ ̵̢́͟ ̸́... the council will be furious in the coming days... but I could never be more proud of you. Go, head back to the cabin, and I'll delegate things here. It should only be a few days... alright?” 

       The old formal Russian words rolled off his caretaker’s tongue, and he’d smiled so warmly, chuckled, and let the old draconic man lift him off the ground in a bear hug of an embrace, with enough strength that it squeezed his breath from him. 

      And he’d left... 

      And he regrets not staying through so said delegations to this day... 

      In the coming days, an attack would be made on the prestigious, Monster founded school of the Arcane. Three days after he’d left, he’d arrived back at his childhood summer home, when not spending his time with the Dreemurr family, and in the same time, he’d come to learn, through divination of the wreckage left behind, that humankind had attacked and lain the Siberian Academy of the Arcane; Dramerra... to utter waste. 

      There had been a total, from the collective 3,000 plus students, ranging from primary years, to esteemed elders offering their skills to the students, culminated between hybrid monsters, purebred monster people, and eager to learn humans... of four survivors. Baqul Gaster, his adoptive father, and the last standing Grand Archmage of the college... had not been among them. 

      To this day, he swears his presence could have swayed the tides, saved so many more, and maybe even if he had died with the council, then the 3,000 innocents that had fallen down that day, would’ve been spared... perhaps he could’ve been taken prisoner, perhaps he could’ve been martyr to suffer in trade for their lives. 

      The grief-induced rage he’d blown into the very day he’d received the news, however... well, that was another story. 

[browniefox]

What’s Better Than One Dog? TWO!

Werewolf Au part four!

LA’s a popular place, there’s gotta be more werewolves in the area. 

@trulymightypotato tis short, but i think you may like :D

Stand by for more youtubers to probably come ;)

oOo

The night was warm, as nights usually were in LA, and Tyler sipped his coffe, desperately trying to stay awake. Mark, shifted to a werewolf, frollicked in the empty streets gleefully, bounding around to every new smell or sight. He was off the leash tonight since Tyler wasn’t really in the mood to be dragged around and he trusted Mark - for the most part - not to get into too much trouble.

There was quite a distance between the two of them when mark stopped, ears perked, before whipping around with his body now low to the ground. He barked twice - a whine sound to it that Tyler recognized as meaning something bad was coming. Before Mark had reached Tyler, something barreled into the werewolf. Both went skidding across the road. Tyler cautiously approahed.

Mark was pinned to the ground by an even bigger wolf. Though obviously not anything too monsterous, the werewolf was clearly a different ‘breed’ then Mark, just barely not wolfish enough to make one terribly uneasy while looking at it. Mark tried to bite and scratch and worm his way out from beneath the other’s paws but his efforts stilled when teeth pressed up against his neck.

“Hey!”

Tyler shouted, approaching faster now. His attempt to get the werewolf’s attention worked for only a moments as he lifted his head for only a moment - just long enough to give a bark not unlike the one of warning Mark had given moments before and then returned to his position, jaw posed threateningly over Mark’s throat.

“Back off!” Tyler shouted again, and this time he pulled out his knife, the metal clear in the monlight. The wolf looked up again, cocking his head to the side, and stepped off of Mark. Mark flipped back to his feet and immediately got between Tyler and the other, hackles raised and growling.

The other werewolf simply blinked at Tyler and Mark and then ran off, disappearing as quickly as he’d come.

“... I think we should head home for the night.”

Mark was a bit on edge the rest of the night, practically sittting on Tyler. It took a while to cajole him back into the bathroom and to stop watching the windows and doors. Once the wolf was secured where he couldn’t make too much of a mess while shifting back into the man he was, Tyler proceeded to, finally, get at least a bit of sleep.

Mark woke up before him, and Tyler was awoken to bacon and eggs and toast.

“That was… really weird last night.” Mark sat down across from Tyler, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he pulled on the fuzzy wolf memories from last night.

“Yeah.” Tyler agreed. They’d run into other werewolves before, more often than one would think in fact, but usually they were either very friendly or very dangerous and wouldn’t leave without a fight.

“And his eyes, ugh, they were so bright,” Mark pressed the palms of his hands into his own eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a werewolf with such weird eyes before.”

“Weird eyes?” Werewolves did usually have odd eyes - vibrant, almost glowing, sometimes colored differently than the human counterpart.

“Yeah, they were-” Mark stopped mid sentence, suddenly sitting up straight and staring in the direction of the front door. His nose twitched and his head was tilted a bit, listening. “Oh. He’s here.”

On cue the doorbell rang and Chica ran down to the front door. Both men got up and followed the dog.

Tyler wasn’t sure what kind of man he’d thought the werewolf would be in the day time, and while surprising, oddly enough it seemed to fit.

“Gar?”

He smiled at Tyler, eyes darting behind him to Mark.

“Hey. I had no idea Mark was a werewolf.”

Needless to say, they invited Gar in.

“So, technically I should’ve reported Mark in but honestly? I just didn’t want to.” Gar sighed, drinking some water. His other hand was at his side, scratching the curious Chica affectionately. “How long since you got bit?”

“It’s okay, Gar,” Tyler pulled out his wallet and slid the challenge coin out, passing it over to the youtuber, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh!” Gar held up the coin, admiring the engravings and various runes on it. “You’re a Retriever.”

“Not actively Retrieving, never really actively Retrieved, but yeah.” Tyler shrugged. “What about you? When were you bit?”

“Never.” Gar shook his head with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. “I’m purebred.”

“Hey, why’d you attack me last night?” Mark didn’t really sound upset, just actually curious.

“I work with the Retriever’s during the full moon, catching any myth that seems like it may be causing problems. When I saw you running towards Tyler, I figured you were gonna attack him. What can I say, I don’t enjoy sitting by and watching my friends being eaten.”

“That’s fair.” Mark nodded, passing over some of the raw bacon form his plate. “Any tricks and tips to being a monster of the moon?”

“Loads.” Gar smirked.

They talked for hours.

oOo

*Random Little Facts About Purebred Werewolves*

They have pointer ears than humans and sharper teeth

Their wolf instincts do not fade with the moon

Their eyes flash their werewolf color during certain emotions

Retain the most humanity of any breed of werewolf when shifted

Wolf eyes are usually odder colors