#the two wolves that live in my head are in constant conflict between

[dkettchen]

I do enjoy dressing her entirely in canon outfits/cuts and the occasional top she's borrowed from nami and being like ye canon!sanji sure does own a pair of 3/4 pants with ballerina loafers he sure did wear that before with his whole cishet man ass and we didn't bat a single eye at it

[pandoraships]

Halloween A.U. #1

Hey all, just wanting to set this down here while I work on my halloween au. If you like it I can post more.

Universe Setting : slightly Altered Werewolf 20th edition. 

The werewolf universe is a world that pits our protagonist, a group of shapeshifters created by Gaia to safe guard humanity from spirits and things they cannot see, against the Wyrm, a twisted and terrifying spirit of chaos that threatens the world with Spiritual madness and malice that is bent on twisting the world to itself.

 Sounds pretty typical right? 

But that’s just the biggest terror they face. They also have to contend with the Weaver, the Wyrms counter point and a spirit of oppressive order and status that is determined to rip away the chaos of the world and make everything ordered and the same. Meanwhile they have to hold back the wyld, a spirit of unrestrained growth which doesn’t care about the damage that it can do, just the the world keep progressing down which ever path is the strongest. The battle between these three spirits has thrown the world into an imbalance. Only they have a hope of restoring balance  to stave off the up coming apocalypse that will occur when the world inevitably rights itself. 

Furthermore the imbalance is so great that it is starting to effect the Shifters in spiritual ways. Madness and death stalk the clans as they try to make right the world before the coming sixth age. 

Of course no Shapeshifter sees the conflict as the same, and as such multiple factions and groups have formed with different allegiances and ideas on how best to bring back balance. This has caused at least two inner-shifter wars and the extinction of  at least 3 clans. 

City setting :

Mustafa is a city with in the Beast Courts, the name of the Eastern enclave of shifters who reject the Western Werewolves philosophy of human domination for their own sake. They collectively set themselves apart as Hengeyokai

Of the Beast courts Japan is the most harmonious, stressing propriety and duty to the Emerald mother, the earth goddess the shifters all come from.

This of course doesn’t mean that everything is perfect, the cities of Japan, as with all cities, are open wounds that constantly are out of balance producing oppression and Madness in equal measure . Shifters are also hard pressed to work together, and though they may be the most harmonious they are still a court filled with tension, intrigue and crossed motivations. They follow a strict social code to keep themselves working together, but sometimes not even that manages to keep things under wraps.

Additonally since only one out of every four children born to Shifters  is a canidate for becoming a shifter themselves, and Shifters being born always carry a risk to their parents health their numbers are low, and getting lower all the time. Some Shifters reject their mission, becoming independent or turning to the wyrm. 

As such it’s a  constant balancing act of resources as the courts race against time to get a foot hold against the wyrm. 

Our protagonist: 

1. Ejiro Kirishima- 

Shifter type: Eijro Kirishima is a Hakken, the native werewolf enclave that currently resides in japan. Due to the Edo period laws that separated japan from outside influence, and the near extinction of the wolf in Japan, the clans of the Hakken became very much human, adopting more rites and practices of the Samurai and the Bushido code than those in other parts of the world. This, coupled with their flat out rejection of the werewolf supremacist view of the Western wolves after japans reopening, make it possible for them to be included in the eastern courts, though they are carefully watched by the others lest they lose their way. 

Werewolves are the warriors and protectors of the shifters. They tend to be large, aggressive and powerful. They struggle most with Rage.  This is due to the fact that to combat the wyrm they must be angry, willing to win at any cost, but this seeps into their every day lives. They must constantly keep themselves at bay to not jump into a fray and start smashing heads. 

Auspice: Eijiro himself first turned under the full moon auspice. The Ahroun shifters are considered weapons, living swords and shields in the fight against the wyrm. Expected to defend and protect the other types of werewolves few survive past their young adulthood years. They are fed to the endless fight like so much wood to a wood chipper. It is said that a mother of an Ahroun warrior will die tending two graves.

They do not of course go down easily and Eijiro grew up with his mind filled with stories of heroic and powerful Ahroun, including that of the crimson riot, who made a name for himself and the clan during the warring states period by killing 1000 wyrm born I. A single battle. When he awoke one year ago he was as proud as it was possible to be to lay down his life for the fight.

At the start of the story Eijiro is attempting to gain rank in the beast courts. He is to hunt and retrieve a target for the Emerald Lady. Too bad his target is a certain red eyed blonde.

Family: Eijiros mother Akame Kirishima is currently the shaman for the clan Kirishima. She is what is considered kin, humans that have blood ties to werewolves and can birth shifters more easily than regular humans.

Originally brought into the clan for her talents she was married to a young Ahroun of the main bloodline. Shortly after the birth of her son she lost him to a battle. Since his son was a part of the main house she was allowed to stay and raise him.

She raised her son alone until she met another shifter , Aiwi and remarried. Her wife brought with her a son and they have lived happily since.

[lucastheunlucky]

furniture hunt | simon&luke

Date: 6/3/20 Location: Antque Store With: Simon @inconvenientsimonstrocity​, & Luke

Summary: Luke invites Simon to help him find some new furniture for Yum!Pizzeria as he’s in the middle of a small remodel right now. The two try to be a little more open with each other. 

Lucas felt stuck between a rock and a hard place right now mentally and emotionally. This past week was seriously hell, and now the sun was-- no. He wasn’t going there. He was feeling really off ever since he saw Gotch again through the window, and he hadn’t told everyone about the fight either with Ariana needing the attention, and with Winn trying to explain himself. It was always easy for Luke to hide away though. It was terrifying seeing that shotgun pointed at Salva’s head. His nightmares have gotten pretty gory and the constant explosion of a gun going off always had him jumping awake. He’s not sleeping more than an hour or so a night. Well. He wasn’t going to keep whining. The wolves were a mess, but he didn’t think it was their fault. It felt reactory. If they found out about Salva through whomever, fine, he’d explain a little. But his mind was foggy, and it was difficult to push down the despair always swirling in his stomach. Distraction was really necessary for him. “Hey Simon,” he waved lightly, “be patient with me. I’m not sleeping again.” He admitted, “I’m so glad you’re helping me with this. I have a list. I need six bar height stools, five chairs, and maybe we can find some new hanging lights for the tables.”

The thoughts that churned through Simon’s head like foamy waves biting at a black-salted shore were conflicted. They felt diseased, almost, like they shouldn’t have been there and he tried to get rid of them but they clung to him like the parasite he felt under his skin. This was the first time he was going to meet Lucas since what the other members of… whatever they thought they were called a “pack meeting”; nothing was accomplished, nothing felt satisfying. He felt like he wasted his time at the crime scene and though it gave him a chance to fall in favour with the rest of the WCPD, nothing came of it. It was a distraction at best. Every single other member of the pack seemed to be reeling from a decision that happened this past week with the possible exception of Salva, who he just assumed was either too drunk, too busy or too bored to bother messaging him back. At least Lucas bothered to get back to Simon on his suggestion to do something. Eventually. See, it was THOSE thoughts that felt unnatural to him. Why was he thinking like that? Everyone was just very busy; he completely understood that - even Layla must’ve been terribly upset by what happened to Ariana and Celeste. And what Eldon had told him did him no favours,either; hiding as a means of survival, what the power of fear did to the hearts of mighty creatures, like… them. He pushed everything as far down as they allowed, threw the now-empty pill case of Allegra into a passing trash can and stepped into the antique store where he found Lucas almost as quickly as the nostalgic scent of time, paper and old wood found him. “Hey, Lucas,” He replied as he approached the younger man, voice still a little thick though at least he could breathe and probably wouldn’t be arrested by paroxysms. “And you’re all good; no judgement here. We can go as slowly as you’d like or feel comfortable with,” He added with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry you haven’t been sleeping, though… same phantoms?”

“Yeah, gotta love dreaming about getting buried alive or shot in the face,” Luke sighed, but his smile was there, ever honest in that he struggled a lot but didn’t let it ruin his life entirely. “It’s just what it is, I’ll be okay.” The words were stale on his tongue, and Lucas wasn’t sure how much more he could actually take before it felt better to go down different routes. “In good news, I’m mostly healed up. Tore it up a bit this week with shit, but the next moon will sew it up. Let’s go shopping. I hope we find some stuff. You should see the place all clean, and repaired up. I’m so glad I took the time to close it for a week. Insane what a difference it’s made. I really need to cook for you again, Simon.” As he said this he yawned, but he pushed into the aisles, the scents musky and pleasantly calm. “Have you met anyone new in town yet?” Seemed like Simon wasn’t the only one having problems sleeping, regardless of the reason. “I’m glad to hear you’ve been mostly healing up.” He wanted to ask about what happened but he told Lucas he wouldn’t ask about it anymore in their previous conversation so he kept the question to himself and instead moved on to what they were talking about - furniture. “Shopping, sounds good,” He gave a small nod of agreement and proceeded to follow Lucas, glancing off from side to side absently as he reran Lucas’ list through his mind. He wasn’t aware of the small smile that crept onto his pointed face when the younger wolf mentioned both cooking and if he’d met anyone ‘new’ in town. Three weeks ago, he would’ve said ‘Nora’ easily and that answer was still true but he would’ve been lying if he didn’t say Lydia, whether purposefully or not, was the first face to flicker through his mind. “I, uh… I’ve met some people, yeah.” He admitted with a small half-shrug. “And that pizza you made last time was really good. What do you like to cook the most?” He asked.

“I just like to cook for friends the most. Maybe, I’ll make us all some curry, that is always my favorite. My birthday is coming up on the 21st, I could make that if people want to come over. I’m sure Miles will take a chance to throw me a party since it’s been four or five birthdays without me around,” he said that easily to the ears, but his insides always hurt when he thought about it. Lucas grabbed a cart because he knew he’d probably find other things and didn’t want to hold them all. “I’m relieved you are finding some new people. This place isn’t big, but it’s got of decent people in it. I know I haven’t been around to hang out much.” Oh yeah, Lucas had been in hiding for some years now, assumed to be dead to the world except to one. Simon didn’t have to wonder too much about how hard that must’ve been for him, but he also took into account that Lucas probably had an actual life before the incident with Gotch; the way he talked about what it felt like to him to be a wolf, the freedom to be who you were before being forced into hiding… The only difference was that Simon was always a nobody. “Four or five years with your life drastically altered because of something you couldn’t control,” He opted to say casually as he picked up an old cracker tin, pretending to inspect it (though really, he just liked the texture of rough metal) to avoid making it seem like he was lecturing. “I’m sure he’s excited to throw one for you; it’ll be long overdue,” He placed the tin down, for some reason remembering that he placed the tin that seemed to whisk Lydia’s snapping at him away. “...Not to worry, I completely understand,” Simon replied, still avoiding looking at Lucas though he figured that that wasn’t unusual for him at this point. Now, though, it was because he felt the parasite frothing inside, wanting to snap and overwhelm and lash out like a spoiled child. “You’ve had some very important things happening, especially recently; majour changes, entire shifts in dynamic, et cetera. It’s vital to address and fix those problems before you can move forward.”

“Mhm, Gotch’s been messing with me since I was sixteen, Simon,” Lucas picked up a few glass bottles that had some interesting shapes and could look really good on the wall and put them in the cart. Thinking about Miles in any capacity was always a mixture of feelings. The undercurrent whispered that he wasn’t supposed to speak to him, demented words spoken in his ear as a whisper, ghosts of fingers tightly curled over his shoulders and telling him that it wouldn’t end well. And then the little brother in him, in the echoes of memories riding on Miles back, and trying to prank him (never ever successful he's such a punk!!) let Luke want to scream to the world how much he loved him and grab Miles and not let go. “He better,” Lucas laughed, and he was excited actually. “Well, when my family was here, I mean all of them. There were six of us. That pack life was way different then this mess, but then again, my dad was sorta in charge. I don’t think we can go back to that way of living. Feels, like I’m enlisted. I miss not caring so much.” Part of Simon felt guilty for getting the number wrong; did he know that? Was he told that? And yet, part of him, a dark, twisting part, couldn’t have cared less. No, he didn’t know that. No, he wasn’t told that. He popped his neck sharply, a relatively new habit of his and something he found gave him some form of emotional release. He remembered the people that did that in high school; controlling, aggressive. When he was younger, he thought it made them feel superior or like they were in charge… maybe they were just trying to keep the wolves inside of them from tearing them apart. He lightened his expression when he heard the genuine emotion in Lucas’ laugh, however, and he glanced down briefly, unclenching his hands that were white at the knuckles. “Big family,” He returned a small smile as they walked. One of his hands decided to go into his pocket for the time being while the other subconsciously reached up to scratch at his neck. “Yeah, I can imagine,” He scoffed lightly, his tone amiable. “The halcyon days of youth; there and then gone, waiting for you to pick up the pieces.” He pointed off to the side. “Those stools strike your fancy at all?”

Lucas glanced over, “yeah, my family is pretty big. Still, different sets of problems. Things can be easy in some areas, and only get more complicated in others having your biological family in your business all the time. If you can believe me, even if this all seems bleak, I have hope it will be okay-- I really want this all to work. I want to have a family again, even if it’s really hard and we fight, it’s okay.” Lucas knocked his head gently on Simon’s shoulder in passing, “you included.” He looked at the stools and got a little excited. “You have a good eye, holy shit. I love these. Let’s see if they can handle my heavy self.” He quickly sat down and did a few wobbles on it, and flipped them to see if they were all sturdy. “I like that they are all different. What do you think? Would you eat a slice of pizza and drink a beer on this?” “Different sets of problems,” Simon murmured, definitely more to himself than out loud as he ran that sentence through his head. As an only and friendless child, Simon often wondered how his life would’ve changed if he had even just one sibling; someone to fight with, to love on, to tease and fairly criticize but then to subsequently build up to be stronger than before. The closest he supposed he got was a ridiculously neurotic aunt who he assumed was responsible for half his allergies through the power of suggestion… yes, he COULD eat white bread and it was delicious. He was shaken out of that thought when he felt Lucas’ head against his shoulder. I have hope. I really want all this to work. That combination of words seemed to push the wolf further down, further than it had been all day and muzzled it, at least for a few moments. THAT was Simon and Lucas: hopeful. Despite all the bad things that happened to both of them, despite that neither of them made the life-altering choices that turned them into what they were today, Simon did believe Lucas when he said that because Simon wanted to believe that, too, desperately clinging to the threads that sometimes dangled in front of him and terrified to let them go once he had them. He’d let so many of the threads go already but he was still trying to sort through the ones he had left. Hope. “I’m going to be honest with you, Lucas,” He spoke up gently, a genuine smile on his face this time. “I’d eat a slice of pizza and drink a beer on the floor so long as I was enjoying it with someone else.” He admitted. “That being said, I’m no fashion or decor expert but I believe their asymmetry would lend themselves well to the aesthetic of your pizza place.” He added. “Plus, there ARE at least six of them and they all obviously belong together in their own strange ways…” He gave a light, somewhat playful shrug. “I say go for it. I can pay for them.”

“Same, I might even eat a piece that fell on the floor,” Lucas playfully said. “You know. When I played football we’d eat the craziest shit. I’d like that though. Sitting anywhere and munching yummy food.” He nodded, standing up from the stool.  “I like them. You want to treat me?” Lucas though in his thirties could be a little boy way too easily, and his eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement. “That’s really nice. Thanks. I’ll make sure one is just for you in the shop. Have it engraved. Hehe.” He waved down the sales clerk and let them mark it as sold while he hunted for some lights. “Have you considered getting back into forensics? I know you helped a lot with that piece for me. Do you miss that?” It didn��t surprise Simon that Lucas used to be a football player; indeed, it seemed like sports were a good outlet for the wolves to get their energy out. Sports were team-building, encouraged communication, gave people something to work towards. He could never play sports and he needed to stop thinking about and comparing everything to wolves; despite what Orobas said and how he was referred to, he wasn’t the same. “It’s really not that big a deal,” Simon replied but he knew finding positivity in small gestures when he heard it; no, bar stools at a pizza place was rather mundane but there were a handful of little things to be happy about. He didn’t speak again until Lucas asked him another question, shifting the topic and he remained quiet for a long moment. “I have, but…” Would Regan allow it after he (rather stupidly) got so bold to her? Did they even need someone else in the department? Surely they were busy given the death rate… normally he wouldn’t have minded the workload so much. “I might once I get Beans more used to the house,” He admitted quietly; the last thing he wanted to do was radically change up his schedule so soon after getting the… HIS dog. “And I didn’t help much; no one at that crime scene thought you did it, Lucas,” He felt the need to affirm. “And the guys we found evidence for either couldn’t be found or didn’t give up any information. It was a waste of time.”

“Beans--” Luke tried to flip through what he remembered, but sometimes details like that were hard for him to retain since his brain injury. “Is that the dog you posted about? You decided to keep it?” Lucas was surprised Simon felt like he didn’t do anything to contribute. Even with the police looking into it, Luke was glad someone with his interest was there. “You mattered then, it could have been so easy for Gotch to put one of his cops there to fuck it up, plant evidence, or not get the right stuff. I think if you and Sargant Rolands hadn’t been there-- it could have been different.” Lucas sighed. “I mean, I’m not fucking surprised, but it’s not a waste of time though. I had zero of this information for over a decade man. Rich kids will always get away with shit. They probably weren’t even from here. Someone did find one of those guys though, roughed him up, but they kept playing the same tune. They bought the hunt off Gotch.” “Sgt. Hills is a really good guy,” Simon said first, remembering how receptive he was of whatever information could be found and how they worked well together. He supposed that though they didn’t actually catch anyone, it WAS more information than they had… even if it was unsubstantial and ultimately worthless despite Lucas implying otherwise. He supposed Lucas DID have a point regarding planted evidence or corruption in the system… he hadn’t thought about those aspects.”You do bring up good points,” He replied mildly. “I just wish there was more that could’ve been done.” He said, resisting the urge to say ‘more *I* could’ve done’. “But hey; you were exonerated so I guess you gotta take the little victories,” He exhaled and continued to look around for the chairs, deciding to leave the lights to Lucas for now. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. Beans is the dog,” He decided to switch conversations to something lighter but he wasn’t sure if it was more for Lucas or him. “And I’m really thinking about keeping him; I’ve never owned a dog before so I never realised how… great they are.”

“Dude, I love dogs. Duke and I? God, Miles got him right when he moved into his cabin a few years ago and he had the BIGGEST ears and feet, and was all floppy. I’d let him train on me.  When I was healing up and on those crazy meds, Duke and I kept yelling at squirrels. It was nice, they are good companions, I’m glad you want to raise Beans.” Luke found dogs always very easy to get along with, maybe it was the scent or the natural energy he had, but he also knew that coming home to someone, even a pet, was the best feeling in the world. Lucas pointed out a few lights and decided on two that caught his attention when the woman came over to mark them sold. “You should have Duke and Beans meet. Miles could use the company. I’ve been worried about him. Do you have his number and stuff? He just got back in town.”

Good, talking about dogs seemed preferable. Simon smiled softly as Lucas opened up about some more of his personal life yet the thought of him having his own dog was bittersweet… Definitely more sweet than bitter, though; Beans' company was definitely worth the physical misery. However, his smile faltered ever-so-slightly when he recalled how Lucas described Duke as a pup; big ears and feet… That sounded like a big dog and that thought tensed him up slightly, instinctively. His hand started scratching his bite again, suddenly feeling a little spike of nervousness. "We talked briefly on the forum," He mentioned first. "I'll, uh… Yeah, it'll be good to meet up with them… I…" He cleared his throat. Spit it out. "I need to get over my fear of big dogs, anyway." Admitting those types of flaws of his were embarrassing but he didn't know why… Allergic to dogs, AFRAID of dogs, what a useless werewolf he was. "Miles seems like a good guy. You guys are good people."

“Oh? Duke is the bestest boy to help with that. He’s a search and rescue dog, very trained. He saves people, man. Knows how to calm people who are hurt down and never bites unless ordered to by Miles,” Luke took full advantage of Duke when he was healing up, not that he had a choice, Duke would come to him anyway cause the dog already knew he was in pain. “Miles is the best out of all of us. Probably the best in White Crest. He’s my hero, he’s really someone who puts others first. You can trust him with anything--” Luke easily rattled off, clearly the younger brother who idolized his older sibling without embarrassment. But as he was saying all that, he felt the faints presence swirl behind him. Reminding Luke of the horror attached to him causing so many issues for his mental health. “Did something happen that made you scared? Baby steps if you do, plus, it’s also okay to just be scared.” Simon had never met Miles save the one instance where they had their ‘pack meeting’ and there was with no uncertainty that Lucas was very proud to be the related to and the younger brother of Miles but if nothing else, Simon was in possession of the rare quality to be able to hear how people thought of someone and still be able to form his own opinions. He didn’t doubt that Miles was a good guy - he did Search and Rescue and from how Lucas talked about his own upbringing, something like a secretly-bad-older-brother would stick out like a sore thumb in the otherwise idyllic way Lucas recalled the memories of his past before all this shit with Gotch hit the fan. Lucas’ question pulled him out of his thoughts though and one of his nails unintentionally tore open his skin on his collar bone sharply as his hand clenched for a moment. “Yeah, it is…” He said quietly, lidding his eyes partially as he glanced off to look at a particularly ugly doll that stared back at him with unblinking glass eyes. “I got…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, feeling blood well up under his finger as it oozed from the scar tissue he opened. I got mauled by a werewolf. It ruined my life. That was one of the hardest combination of sentences he’d never said. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s okay to be scared in moderation.” He replied just as quietly. He remembered what Orobas said. “But it’s also important… to not let it control you.” He almost said that more to himself. “Baby steps.” He gave a small nod.

“Yup--” he emphasized the P with a pop, and nudged his shoulder with Simon’s, the scent of blood caught his nose instantly, but Luke could tell the duress was making Simon’s mind spin and body react. Luke knew deep seeded fear. He sat there while Gotch cut open his arm frozen in it. Luke, however, wasn’t ever a person who had to fix people, but he was someone who cared about them deeply. He tossed his bad arm over his shoulder, letting it hang comfortably, and pressed in close to his side on instinct. “We’ll get there, you know what I’ve been saying lately to myself?” Luke asked, and with his free hand releasing the cart he waved it in front of them. “Life is okay--” He snorted a little, smiling easily. “It’s not entirely good, but okay isn’t too bad either. At least we’re alive. At least we can have a future, even with fear of dogs or fear of one man. Ah, we are shopping for chairs and lights right now. Pre--tty domestic and, well. Okay right?” Lucas’ nudge and subsequent, instinctual intimacy somehow relaxed Simon considerably, though he obviously wasn’t expecting it to; was this because he was touch-starved? Was it a wolf thing? Either way, he heard his heartbeat that increased subconsciously start to slow down and he licked the blood off his finger while the other hand pressed his shirt into the small wound to stem the flow, watching Lucas wave his hand and listening to the words he was saying. Life is okay. It’s similar to what Lucas said earlier about having hope for the future. Don’t let fear control you. Believe it’s going to be okay. It IS okay. Baby steps. He inhaled, the scents of Lucas, his own blood, the wood and dust and an elderly woman’s perfume as it floated around the store. “Yeah,” He smiled again, gentle and genuine. “Life’s pretty okay. If anything, it should fear US,” He added, perhaps a little uncharacteristically but it was close to the full moon and Lucas had bolstered his own confidence just enough. “The future better be prepared for what we can bring to it.” The word ‘we’ struggled to form instead of him saying ‘you’ - strictly referring to the younger wolf - but he managed to get it right the first time, only feeling a little self-conscious about it.

“Exactly, heh,” Lucas was a person who had zero problems being close and hanging off people, not to the point of being annoying about it, but it was something he did instinctively. Even in school everyone always expected he’d be hanging on someone, and sometimes people even fought over him playing favorites. So Simon accepting it, and not flinching from it made him happy. Touch was important to werewolves, and closeness was an easy thing to give. Luke did find an awesome light and picked that up along with the stools, and a few weird looking chairs that were apparently bright gold thanks to the clerk who asked if it would fit with the look of the place. As they loaded it up in a truck, he felt relaxed. “So, thanks! This is awesome. Wanna come with me to drop it off? We can eat something too-- let’s just chill today? I need a chill day.” There was another exhale that came from Simon after they finished with their shopping, a sense of satisfaction from having found everything they needed that Lucas decided was preferable. While he still thought about how he sounded earlier and the negative thoughts that burned under him before that alongside the sensation that he still didn’t belong or have a sense of agency in relation to the other wolves, he had to think in the ‘now’ and right ‘now’, not being able to tell Lucas what he was truly afraid of aside, he felt… comfortable. The wolf that had been restrained and muzzled still thrashed around but it was deeper down and he could ignore it more willfully. “Yeah,” He replied in his same quiet tone, his natural tone; compliant, agreeable. Really, he felt like all the wolves could use a chill day. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He reaffirmed. A chill day. Sounded ideal.

[akaluan]

*snicker* in the werewolf!verse, can you just imagine Kisuke enthusiastically asking werewolf!Erich about All The Werewolf lore? (Erich might even find Kisuke questioning him about the validity of ancient European folklore - rather cute.)

Erich, to the pups+Kisuke: “Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”          

((Okay so… you kinda attempted to prompt cute and silly and Urahara being his typical self, aaaaand then this went… sideways.

SO UH. HAVE A LORE DUMP.

And a bit of cute fluff, but ANYWAY. LORE.

Yes, most of this actually applies to Misfits-verse as well. Also, I’ve decided that most every shapeshifter legend is true in these ‘Verses, albeit some of them have died off and some of them are dying off (like the were-Quincy). It’s a thing.

Also I might continue this at some point, but this felt like a good stopping point.

Also-also, please note that werewolf!Erich is like 200% more tactile and openly affectionate than Lilacs!Erich because wolf-instincts and finally having a pack again after so very, very long. And he pretty quickly sways Uryuu to being more tactile and openly affectionate in general. This is also the timeline where Uryuu doesn’t become a werewolf because Erich gives him back his powers before that happens.))

“Do you have a wolf-skin?” Urahara asked curiously, following Erich out of the training ground after their latest spar. “Or an enchanted belt?”

Erich shook his head, eyeing Urahara with wry amusement and pointedly tapping two of claws together to draw attention to his current wolf-traits. “No and no.”

Urahara made a considering noise, fiddling with his fan and staring at Erich thoughtfully. “Silver bullets? Silver in general?”

“Bullets hurt,” Erich agreed, pausing to dart up in several bursts of hirenkyaku to reach the trapdoor out. He waited in the shop for Urahara to follow him up, then continued, “but there’s nothing inherent in silver that harms us.”

“Ji-san?” Uryuu asked from the doorway, looking between Erich and Urahara warily. “Is he bothering you again?”

Erich chuckled and held out a hand towards Uryuu, unable to resist a fond smile when the boy willingly came to him and allowed Erich to settle his arm over his shoulders in a loose hug. It was such a joy to be able to show /affection/ to someone again, and have them accept it. It was such a joy to have /pack/ again. “No, Urahara is simply being his normal nosy self.”

“Mou, you wound me, Rerugen-san!” Urahara protested, shoulders slumped in theatrical dejection and hat pulled down to hide his eyes. “You don’t /have/ to answer!”

“Of course not.” Erich pulled Uryuu back into the private areas of the shoten, honing in on the room the other teens were. He let go of Uryuu and gratefully dropped onto the couch, stretching out his legs and relaxing in the presence of his pack.

Uryuu almost immediately dropped to sit on the floor next to him, leaning against Erich’s leg and resting his head on his thigh.

“You know you could sit up here with me,” Erich murmured, reaching out to run his claws gently through Uryuu’s hair.

“I’m comfortable,” Uryuu said. He tilted his head enough to give Erich a narrow-eyed look, then let his head drop back and pointedly leaned into the touch. “So what what he bothering you about this time?”

Erich shot Urahara a stern look as the man paused, took in the scene, then mimed being struck by the sight in front of him. “He’s being nosy about werewolf lore, of course,” he explained, catching the attention of the other three.

“Oh, I’ve been wondering about that too!” Orihime perked up and moved to sprawl across the couch near him, chin propped up on her hands and legs swinging through the air. “There’s so many conflicting stories, and none of it really makes sense.”

“Most of it’s fake, isn’t it?” Ichigo asked, marking his place in his book and setting it aside. “I haven’t found any stories that have the werewolves showing traits outside of the transformation, except maybe eye color. Well… except the full moon thing is apparently true?”

“Which is new,” Chad added. When the other teens glanced at him curiously he shrugged. “Mid nineteenth century gothic horror was the start.”

“Ah…” Erich gave a lopsided side and shrugged. “An ancestor was careless. It… happens more often than you might expect. Many of my men during the war knew, but when magecraft was such a prominent, obvious thing, it was easy to spin a tale of an ancestral curse by an angered mage.”

“Is that true?” Uryuu asked softly. “/Were/ we cursed?”

“No,” he said firmly. “It may make things difficult in this day and age, but this was /never/ intended as a curse.”

Urahara settled in a nearby chair and made a thoughtful noise. “Then what /was/ it intended as?”

He watched Urahara for a long moment in silence, then swept his gaze over the teens, noting their attention and interest in the answer. Uryuu and Ichigo, at the very least, deserved to know, since the change was in /their/ blood as well. Even Chad and Orihime arguably had a right to that knowledge, being part of the pack as they were.

(Urahara, too; though when his traitorous mind had begun to tentatively label the man /pack/ was unknown.)

“A blessing,” Erich said, then held up a hand to forestall the questions he knew were coming. “This has been in our blood since before the genesis of the Quincy. Arguably, we are lycanthropes /first/ and Quincy second, despite the way the abilities usually manifest. We’ve been so since the time when we were simply Humans with ritual magic and the Sight, dedicated to hunting the monsters that hunted /us/.”

“/Oh/,” Orihime breathed, eyes bright. “An extra edge in battle! And…” she hesitated, glancing from Erich and down to Uryuu, then over to Ichigo and back to Erich. “Bonds. A hunting pack.”

Erich nodded in agreement, running his claws through Uryuu’s hair again. “Wolves are powerful and dangerous by themselves, but the pack instincts… /those/ make them /deadly/, especially against foes as large and dangerous as Hollows.”

“But why the /moon/,” Ichigo asked, scowling deeper at the words. “That seems less useful than a pelt or a belt or… or just transforming at will.”

“Pelts and belts can be lost,” Erich pointed out. “Look at all the legends about /selkies/ losing their pelts and being bound to whoever finds it. Ritual magic requires an anchor, a stable point to emanate from so that the magic continues to affect those it should.” He lifted his hand from Uryuu’s hair and spread his arms, glancing between his pack-members in question. “What would they have tied it to for free transformation, if not a distinctive item like a pelt or belt? And where would we have /found/ these items, generation after generation? Would we be born as wolves and shed our pelts to become Human? But what if we marry outside those like us? How would /that/ work?”

Kisuke made a face, flicking his fan open and covering his mouth with it. “No, I can’t imagine that would work out well for anyone. I doubt you’d even be /able/ to crossbreed like that.”

“No, probably not.” Erich shrugged and tipped his head towards Kisuke in agreement, inwardly amused at the face Ichigo was making. “So instead, thirty families gathered to anchor the ritual in the moon itself; or, more precisely, in the /concept/ of the moon. A stable, known constant in our lives, from the moment we are born to the moment we die. A constant shared by the entire world. Whether they knew that the change in the moonlight would change the strength of the ritual, I’m unsure, but it is what it is.”

Ichigo gave him a puzzled frown and glanced over at Chad, the two of them holding a silent conversation that Erich let play out. He was curious to see what question the pair had for him.

“How’s it work with calling your name, then?” Ichigo finally asked, looking to Erich again. “The concept of the moon seems… too big to be overridden by a single person.”

“Yes and no. How often do you think about the moon?”

“Not often,” Chad said.

“When I see it,” Ichigo agreed.

Orihime nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s just… there.” Uryuu tilted his head to look at Erich thoughtfully, chewing on his lower lip in thought. “So… you’re implying that the immediacy of our emotions is enough to override the moon?”

“To an extent.” Erich smiled down at Uryuu and ruffled the teen’s hair, laughing at the disgruntled noise Uryuu made in response. “Emotion has a wild magic of its own, and when you look at my wolf form, and call my name, you’re usually instinctively /wanting/ my familiar form back. And, after a while, you /expect/ a certain action to get a certain result: call my name, pull me from the wolf. Which has a power all its own, separate from that of your emotions.”

“Does it… hurt?” Uryuu asked warily, staring up at him uncertainly. “When… when we do that? Should we not?”

“It’s fine, pup,” Erich reassured, leaning forward to give Uryuu a hug. “It feels /strange/, and there’s always the urge to revert, but it never hurts. Not even in the very beginning, when I first awoke as a wolf in my late twenties.”

Uryuu pressed into the hug, arms slipping up to wrap around Erich’s chest and clinging tight. “Thank you,” he murmured, barely loud enough for Erich to hear.

“You’re welcome, pup.”

[theconservativebrief]

North Korea teaches its citizens to hate the United States based on a disputed account of a massacre during the Korean War…

AFP / Ed JONES North Korean visitors walk past a painting depicting US soldiers torturing detainees at the Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities

(AFP) – Every few minutes a new set of visitors arrives at the ‘Revenge-Pledging Place’ at North Korea’s Sinchon Museum, where regime propaganda insists US troops massacred more than 35,000 people during the Korean War.

A volunteer among the group – they could be from a school, army unit, factory or official organisation – stands up in the concrete amphitheatre, where a mural reads “Let us drive out the Americans and reunify our nation”, to issue a vitriolic denunciation of the US.

Fists clenched in the air, the crowd responds with unison shouts: “Smash! Smash! Smash!”

Opposition to the United States is a fundamental cornerstone of Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, as the North is officially known.

Pyongyang says the nuclear arsenal it has spent decades developing, suffering sanctions and isolation as a result, is to defend itself from a possible US invasion.

That means next week’s Singapore summit between leader Kim Jong Un and US President Donald Trump – where the North’s weapons will top the agenda – presents a potential conundrum: could making peace with the enemy undermine the authorities’ claim to legitimacy?

The Kim dynasty bases its right to rule in founder Kim Il Sung’s role in the 20th century fight against Japanese colonial rule.

North Koreans take part in a ‘revenge pledging’ ceremony at the Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities

According to the orthodoxy, that historic mission was interrupted when the US and Soviet Union divided the peninsula between them after Tokyo’s surrender ended the Second World War. The North’s attempt to reunify it by force with its 1950 invasion was then thwarted again by a US-led United Nations coalition.

The vilification of the US – and Japan – is constant in the North, from books and films to education centres in Pyongyang and across the country, including the centrepiece museum in Sinchon, which receives 500,000 visitors a year according to the official KCNA news agency.

It portrays US troops committing a litany of atrocities in the area, their hands gnarled and their features twisted as they drive nails into their defiant victims’ heads, crush them to death, or cut off a woman’s breast.

The Americans, said guide Ri Kum Ju, even engaged in cannibalism.

“They killed people individually in brutal ways beyond human imagination, including pulling out eyeballs, searing the entire body with hot iron or cutting pieces of flesh and eating it with salt.”

There is one fundamental problem with this narrative: whatever happened at Sinchon in the autumn of 1950 – and the exact details including the true toll are lost to the chaos of conflict – independent researchers say there is no evidence it was carried out by the US.

According to Leeds University historian Adam Cathcart, who has researched Sinchon extensively, the first foreign unit on the scene was British rather than American, and the town was of little interest to the US-led allied troops, including South Korean forces, who were advancing rapidly northwards Pyongyang.

North Koreans are taught throughout their lives to loathe the United States

There were undoubtedly atrocities on both sides in the war, which saw millions killed in just three years, but Cathcart says there were waves of retribution killings in and around Sinchon county that autumn between Communists, and Christians and other anti-regime elements.

“This was a case of Koreans killing Koreans in the fog of war, not an American attempt to wipe out an entire county of communists through medieval methods,” he says.

The North’s portrayal of Sinchon was “simply extremely out of line with the reality of the war”, he told AFP, but had “underpinned a great deal of anti-US propaganda”.

One of the key exhibits at the museum is resident Ju Sang Won, now in his 70s, who says his father was dismembered by being pulled apart between two carts, and that he survived the killing of hundreds of people who were forced into a powder magazine that was then blown up.

“The US imperialists are a pack of wolves in human form,” he said. “We are in a quasi state of war. We must fight the American bastards to the end.”

A potential peace treaty to formally end the Korean War – hostilities stopped in 1953 only with a ceasefire – is likely to be discussed in Singapore, but without the framework of US imperialism, said Robert Kelly of Pusan National University, Pyongyang would struggle “to explain ideologically to North Koreans why Korea is still divided”.

Other analysts are more optimistic. “We saw in the cases of China and Vietnam how Communist propaganda could repurpose their messaging away from anti-American vitriol,” said John Delury of Yonsei University. “Both systems ‘survived’ the loss of the US as an enemy state.”

Even so, primary school vice director Jang Yun Chang, who led the chants outside the Sinchon museum, was adamant.

“I will deeply ingrain in my students the brutal nature of the US imperialists, and that it will never change,” he said. “My spirit for revenge is growing stronger.”

Original Source -> North Korean Museum Shows How Deep Anti-American Propaganda Runs

via The Conservative Brief