#verse >> au > werewolf

[elysianightsss]

It’s not that deep, you’re not that dumb, you’re just drunk and wanting a good time with your girls. Your friends have been begging for you to come out and let go and this week has been so fucking hard you finally agree. Little black dress, and bright red heels with Prada perfume spritz on every part of you your friend said it ‘needed to go’.

This is what you needed. The music so loud you couldn’t think, just the right amount of alcohol to bring you that buzz without being totally black out drunk. Sweat clung to your skin as you danced your heart out in the shitty club, the air stank of Brittany spears perfume, spilt alcohol and coconut.

You looked sexy, felt sexy while you grinded on your friend to the beat and giggled about it afterwards while another friend came back from the bar with shots. You drank yours quickly, face scrunching up with the burn in the back of your throat.

“I’m going for a vape, you comin?” Your bestie whose name you’ve embarrassingly forgotten right this second offered and you just nodded. Saying yes was so easy after hearing no from work all week.

The fresh air was nice after the heat inside, but climbing the stairs to the third floor while drunk had you reconsidering. “Here.” A red apple ice something Mary was shoved into your hand for you to take a drag from. Though when she gets out another one from her bag you suppose the vape is yours now.

You feel yourself sway to the music that is still hearable from upstairs, the wind feels nice on your hot skin. “I need to pee, I’ll be back.” Your friend says loud enough that it’s not classed as a whisper and you just nod as she slides away, taking another drag while you stare at the city all lit up.

Maybe this right here is why they are always asking you to join them, the small moment of peace you’re feeling now. And after a lousy week it’s fucking serene to be stood on the top floor of a shitty club, a buzz pulsing through your veins and a nicotine rush making you a little light headed.

It’s perfect.

Until it’s ruined.

“Hello beautiful.” You manage to hear the words through the slight ringing in your ears. Turning you find a man staring at you as though he wants to eat you. He’s not bad looking, but the sleazy hunger in his eyes immediately puts you off.

“You new around here? I’m guessing you’re not mated, you’ve no alpha scent on you.” He says and you think the alcohol has made you hallucinate. Before your brain is even conjuring up an answer you’re interrupted.

“Get the fuck away from my best friend.” You turn to find your bestie’s face twisted angrily.

“Farah! I missed you. Where have you been?” Walking forward you hug her, suddenly like two wires have sparked you remember her name once more.

“I went to pee like I said.” She laughed at your clear memory loss thanks to the constant stream of sex on the beach and whatever shots your other friends had kept buying.

“Oh yeah.”

“Let’s go back.” Farah says holding your hand as she eyes the man who doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. She pulls you away with every intention of leaving. Texting the other girls that you were going home before she’s pressing the phone to her ear. You follow her mindlessly, her hand locked tight around yours while she waits for whoever it is to pick up.

She sighs with relief when they do, “Track my phone, there’s a rogue here and I’m with her.” You don’t understand what she’s talking about though you think the alcohol is fiddling with your brain and you’re sure she’d be making sense if you were sober.

There’s loud shouting on the other end of the phone, Farah hissing before she’s apologising for encouraging you out. “I figured it would be safe considering we’re on pack grounds.” More shouting follows before you’re bored.

“Farah come on I wanna go back in and dance!” You whine tugging on her hand. She smiles at you sympathetically before she’s dragging you down the last set of stairs and outside the building. A black suv pulls up right outside, it has a queasy feeling building in your stomach. Especially when two men get out and advance towards you.

“Don’t you look bonnie.” The one with a mohawk grins down at you. You don’t want to, in fact your brain is screaming at you not to but you preen under the words. A small mewl slipping from your throat when his finger tips glide under your chin tilting your head back just enough for him to look into your eyes.

You feel something snap into place as he inspects you, a string that was loose and dangling suddenly pulled tight. You’re so busy staring at this gorgeous man and his deep blue eyes you forget anyone else is there until Farah speaks.

“I’m so sorry I thought this would be safe. He shouldn’t even be on our territory. How did he get in?”

“We can worry about that in the morning. We need to get her back to the house before she goes into heat.” You look past mohawk’s shoulder to where the Mancunian accent is coming from to see a skull mask. Beautiful brown eyes surrounded by black. He’s built like a tank and sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Cmon lass, let’s get you home.”

“Johnny.” Skull man clicks his tongue at mohawk.

“Wha? It will be soon.” Johnny scoffs before smiling down at you. It’s then you notice you’re seeing double, your stomach gurgles and your mouth salivates.

“I think I’m gonna vomit.” You warn just before you bend over and throw up all over his shoes. The last thing you remember is some Scottish man swearing before the world fades to black.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter one

of rage and ruin series

chapter one

series masterlist | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, gore, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

This is a werewolf omegaverse fic that uses traditional and non-traditional elements of the genres. It largely ignores TLOU canon.

DISCLAIMER: A plotline of this story involves unethical medical care and human experimentation re: vaccines. It may give anti-vax vibes. This is NOT an anti-vax story and I do not want any related discourse please and thank you. This is about FEDRA being the absolute worst, not about the real world in any way.

In a rare moment of lucidity, he thinks he used to be human, once. 

He’s partially transformed more often than not. Almost never fully, unless he’s under the sway of the moon. His real keeper. 

These raiders may think they own him, but he knows the truth. 

But lucidity is rare, and most of the time, Joel Miller is more beast than man. 

Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s Joel Miller.

No matter what, though, he’s a nearly uncontrollable force of nature. 

That’s why they keep a shock collar around his neck and tasers at their waists. That’s why they never turn their backs or leave him unrestrained. He fought like hell for a long time until he broke. 

No shame in it, he knows. Everyone breaks eventually. 

As the years have gone on, though, he’s been getting restless and snippy, less cooperative. And the pain doesn’t really matter anymore. 

Nothin’ really does when you’ve given up.

On the last new moon, when the wolf was quiet and the man was loud, he’d tried to refuse. He sat, buck-ass naked, on the gritty wood floor of the house they were raiding. 

He did not sniff out treasure like some fucking metal detector. He did not tear the humans limb from limb. He did not feast. 

He paid for that night and had the receipts to prove it, laid into his back from the silver-tipped whip. 

He should have tried harder to die at the start. 

He hadn’t understood right away, when they took him. It, frankly, didn’t even cross his mind that they’d know. Laura, the woman in the woods, had been so sure it was secret. 

He got it when they shot him in the leg with a BB gun, though, and the silver shrapnel burned. They were prepared. Silver-coated chains and cuffs, silver-tipped batons and whips and knives. Cattle prods and electric collars. 

They’d been hunting him. 

They tried to break him easy, first. They were looking for a wolf; didn’t know they’d find Joel Miller. They left him chained in an abandoned suburb, giving him just the minimum food and water to keep him alive. 

It worked to weaken him, but they didn’t want him weak forever. Not a very good guard dog or weapon if he can’t lift his head. So when that didn’t work, when he didn’t beg and plead or bend the knee, they gave up and bulked him back up slowly. 

So they tried pain next. 

He came to know the healing as a curse. They avoided the silver, at least at first, since it’d leave damage. But when they found out they could break his bones over and over and over?

That’s when he started to wish he was dead. What was the point, anyway? He couldn’t go back to Boston. Couldn’t risk himself around Tommy and Tess. 

Couldn’t kill himself if he tried, but they could, with their arsenal. 

Didn’t matter what he wanted in the end; his brain wouldn’t give in. It overrode his silent pleas, and it fought and fought and fought.

So they took him on a raid. Starving, chained under the full moon, and they waited. He couldn’t go far, but he didn’t have to. 

They brought the food to him.

“You’ve no control over it, huh?” Cheryl said after, leering into his “room.” They send her to play nice, but he knows she’s the worst of them all. They just think he’ll smell pussy and roll over. “We didn’t need you to kill them. You just need to scare them and help us find what we’re lookin’ for.”

They had him. He knows, he knows, he knows. He’d have done anything to stop it from happening again. From devouring tied-up families who dared to say “no” to Jim and his crew. From throwing up blood and bones and bows. 

He can’t kill himself. They won’t kill him. He had no choice. 

He broke.

This new moon, they don’t take him out to scavenge. No, instead, they drag him outside and spray him down with the hose. This, in itself, is not unusual. But when they force the muzzle over his snapping teeth to scrub at his skin with precious lye soap and a rag, he starts to get concerned. 

His suspicions are confirmed when they take him back inside. 

The only time he’s left unbound is here, in his room. Well. It meets the vague requirements for a room, but it’s also reinforced with silver-plated steel and concrete. Cheaply so, but enough to mute his senses and hopes. 

Usually, they wait until the grate is shut to unclip the lead. They wait until he kneels and offers his hands to unlock the shackles. When he’s been good, of course. 

But not today. Today, they chain him tight to the wall at the far end of the room. 

They’ve had this theory that he hates to admit is not without merit. Looking for another way to control him, they’ve tried to find him an omega. 

The first few times, they just forced him on them out wherever they’ve raided. Usually, he’s too out of control, and they don’t survive the encounter. 

The most recent time, they dumped one in his cell. But the poor thing still smelled of his alpha, having only lost them hours earlier. 

Joel didn’t react well. 

They’re trying something new, now. 

That he’s here while they clean his room is deliberate. He knows this. They’re purging all his scent from it, and they want him to watch, want him unsettled.

He growls when they remove his mattress completely. It’s a pathetically small, thin, hole-ridden thing, but it’s his. 

Before they drag in a new one, a flat pack of grated metal is tossed in the corner. Two of his captors go to work on assembling the contraption, and another leaves for a while, only to return with a sawed-off portion of his mattress. 

It fits neatly inside the cage. For that’s what they’ve constructed. It’s silver-coated, of course, but pathetically weak otherwise. If he truly desired, he could snap the bars as easily as bone. 

He’s not keen on having burnt hands, though. 

Just inside the front of the cage, they clip up a bit of cloth. He doesn’t need to be told what it is, knowing immediately after it’s extracted from the airtight glass Tupperware. 

They tell him anyway. “Got a new toy for you to try, if you’re good. For now, this is all you get.”

The heady scent of omega soaked into the panties permeates his room. 

He’s salivating a little by the time they finally release him, but he waits until the heavy footfalls echo from down the hall to give in. 

They smell divine. He can’t resist tasting, lapping at the tiniest hint of musk and omega under his elongated tongue. 

“Told ya he would have shredded her,” Jim says to Cheryl when they come in the morning with his breakfast. Joel’s in his mind enough to feel a little shame, back of his neck burning, when they see the tattered fabric. 

It’s clear they anticipated it because, along with his tray, he’s given a new pair. 

They’re not so appealing this time. The sweet scent is cut by acidic fear like vinegar through molasses. He ignores them in favor of his meal. 

He eats better here than he ever did out there. He’s worth more rations to the raiders than to FEDRA. Robust meals full of meat and eggs and potatoes. 

They need him strong, after all. 

It’s not until a few hours later that he’s drawn back in by the underwear. It’s not so acrid anymore. Or maybe it is, and he’s just in the mood. Either way, he buries his face in them while he strokes his cock and uses them to catch his cum when he finishes. 

There. That’s better. The mix of him with… whoever you are. 

When they bring him lunch, they make him put the panties on his old tray before pushing it out to them. He doesn’t burn with shame this time; no, he almost feels proud. Like a peacock fluffing out its feathers. They know now. They must. 

Whoever you are, you’re his. 

The next day, they bring back the same pair. He wolfs out a little at the fresh layer of you over his cum. It’s all fear and tears and disgust, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all, not to him, not to the wolf. 

All that matters is how his head fills with static when he licks across the gusset and howls. 

Cheryl’s looking pretty smug on the other side of the door, but for all that she’s pleased with the results; they still threaten to turn on the collar if he doesn’t eat quickly.  

He’s nearly fully wolf, gobbling down the food and returning to his treasure. He snarls as he strokes his cock, the head angry and purple as he tugs. He doesn’t spill onto the panties this time, not wanting to cover up the perfect combination of your scents. In the end, they’re shredded anyway, as his fingers stretch and break into claws. 

In his full glory, his senses are even sharper. Sharp enough that he can hear a faint sobbing across the building and Cheryl’s sharp laughter. 

“I don’t know,” she’s drawling when he tunes in. “He sounds pretty excited to meet you.”

The soft sobbing turns raw and cracked. He can smell the salt and phlegm, can practically taste it in the air. He’s aware of Cheryl, but nothing is louder than the way your heart is tripping over itself.

When Cheryl’s words sink in, when he realizes he might actually get to have whatever delicious creature they’ve gotten him, he howls again, a long, aching sound that creeps down your bones like frost.

Later, when he’s a little more present, he realizes they didn’t shock him either time he howled. It’s usually a guarantee. 

Whatever game they’re playing, it doesn’t bode well for you.

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He wasn’t even worried when it happened. They’d been heading back to the QZ, him and Tommy and Tess, when a wild dog attacked them. 

Or, well. A wolf. 

Tommy had gotten a bullet in its head, but it had Joel’s arm in its jaw at the time. Its teeth had rent through his jacket like a spoon in a banana split. 

FEDRA would shoot him without a second thought, so they doubled back to the little cabin and hunkered down. Figured they’d lay low long enough for it to be hideable before sneaking back in. 

Tommy went out at daybreak for the carcass—it’d be leagues better than what they had in their bags. When he came back, he was faint and empty-handed. 

“...don’t make any sense,” he kept muttering, pacing the tiny kitchenette. 

Joel and Tess exchanged a glance. 

“Probably a bear took it,” she suggested.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, shook his head, and did it again. When he looked up at them, it was through wild, unpredictable eyes. “Wasn’t a wolf. It was a man.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joel said.

“C’mon.”

They followed him through the thicket, and sure as shit, in the same place the wolf’s corpse had lain was a man with a bullet through his skull. He was completely nude. 

“Gotta be a coincidence,” Joel muttered.

Tommy turned to him, eyes wide and hands shaking. “What kind of fucking coincidence is this?” 

There was a rustle, and they all turned, guns raised, as a woman peeked from behind a tree. 

She put her hands up and waited. Tess jerked her head to one side, and they lowered but did not stow their weapons. 

The woman was in a ratty cotton dress with no shoes; autumn leaves crunching underfoot. 

“That’s, um. That’s my husband,” she said softly. 

“Apologies, ma’am,” Tommy said, his face soft and sad. “But—I think he attacked us.”

Her green eyes grew wide, pupils dilating and breath catching in her chest. “Did you get bit?” 

Tommy and Tess instinctually looked at Joel. 

“What’s it to ya?” he said.

“Did you get bit?” she repeated.

“Was he Infected?”

“Not with cordyceps, no,” she says. She avoids looking at the body but flinches when she brushes a foot against a blood-soaked leaf. 

“What does that mean?” Tommy said. 

“I think it’s best we go someplace and talk.”

Against better judgment, they follow her through the words to her home. She claims to have two kids alone there, four years and six months. 

It turns out to be true. She gets them both down for a nap and serves hot stew. They try to refuse, but she insists. 

Tommy feels a little sick eating the food of a man he killed. They all listen, rapt, as she begins to speak.

“It happened a year ago. But it wasn’t an accident.”

When the full moon is two days away, Joel is nearing the furthest from himself. Same shit, different month, but his reactions to your scent are getting, well, feral. 

They’re bringing him strips of cloth, now. He gets a new one with each meal. He doesn’t destroy them anymore. Oh, no. When he’s clearer, he wishes he did. 

But no. He smells and licks and then jerks off with them. If only that were the worst of it. He’ll come to be mortified during the waning, but he starts to add them to the cage. It’s fairly saturated with the smell of him from his old mattress, but it pleases the beast within to line it with the sweet mixture soaked into the torn sheets. 

You’ll understand, then, the wolf thinks. You’ll know it’s safe for you. Somewhere he’s made, a den all your own where he can keep you. 

But you won’t know, because what you know is very little. 

When FEDRA started asking for volunteers to test vaccines, you didn’t hesitate. You knew the risks. And the rewards—room and rations for the length of the observation period, anywhere up to a year in length. You knew there would be a catch—probably many, but given that you rarely had a room or rations, it wasn’t a hard choice.

But this was the end of the world, and “informed consent” was not something that survived the outbreak. 

They worked in batches. A truckload of live bodies at a time. Sterilizing showers with the barest trace of privacy, dressed in stiff starchy scrubs, and led into little cubicles where nurses with needles sat in wait. 

A quick jab to the upper arm, and then you were off. The hospital was an old correctional facility, but again, for someone who hadn’t had a bed on a reliable basis, you felt only relief. 

Until the deaths started.

They didn’t even try to hide it. Within 24 hours of arrival, a fourth of your group was gone. Carted out in black bags marked with β and nothing more said. You watched through your window like everyone else. 

Someone came around the next day and drew blood from every remaining subject, and the tagging began after that. You could see the symbols on other’s doors, but not your own. α or Ω. What they meant, you couldn’t begin to guess. 

It started not long after. 

The changes.

At first it was so subtle, you may not have noticed, but a nurse came by each day to ask you a series of increasingly embarrassing questions. 

What do you smell? What do I smell like? What does your sweat smell like? How sensitive are your breasts? Describe your vaginal discharge. How aroused are you on a scale of 1-10? 

They began weekly tests. Blood draws once a week and daily urine samples, of course, but also hearing and vision. They made you run on a treadmill hooked up to wires. 

And then, one day, after six months of intensive observation, they moved you.

Or. They tried to.

You were exhibiting a specific set of side effects, they said. You were to be transferred to another facility for subjects with the same side effects for further observation. 

Raiders took out the truck halfway through the ten-hour journey. It was… it was a bloodbath, actually. For the FEDRA officers, anyway. 

When they had you all lined up, grippy socks soaking in the ankle-deep mud, well, that was when you all learned which symbol was on your door. They couldn’t keep the word out of their mouths. Omega. 

Not that it fucking explained anything.

One by one, a short blonde with a bob went down the line of you and shoved something up to each omega’s face. That’s it. It seemed to have no greater purpose.

But for some reason, when she pressed the cloth against your nose and mouth, she smiled. And they separated you.

Whatever that was had a deep, oaky musk, like the illicit brewery operating out of the warehouse you often slept in before the trials. 

They tell you nothing.

They make you sleep on strips of cloth, so you roll around in the pile as you toss and turn, rubbing your sweat and slick and pheromones all over. 

They don’t bring you anything of his, but you catch faint whiffs of him (him, always him, they never call him by a name), of those aged, liquor-soaked barrels, but all it does is make you nauseous. You don’t understand how you know it’s him; you still don’t understand any of it. 

You learn very quickly not to ask questions. 

They take him out on the night the moon is full and bloated, hanging over him like a searchlight. See, it whispers, I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. If it didn’t, the wolf would find it anyway. 

He is not himself.

He is his truest self.

He is two or one; neither yet both. A monster movie mashup of fur and teeth and roughshod science experiments conducted by a doctor who wasn’t a doctor at all. He’s the monster’s victim. He’s the monsters’ monster. 

He’s the wolf and the wolf is him. 

He’s The Wolf and he’s swallowed Joel down. 

He’s the man, the weak link, buried so deep he can’t see the light of his celestial mistress 

He’s Joel Miller. Sometimes, sometimes. 

Tonight, he is gone. There is only the Wolf. 

And the Wolf knows. As soon as they cross the threshold, he knows. 

Dawn is rising, the hunt is over, but he’ll be the wolf for a while longer. And he knows that fuckin’ smell. 

It’s the saccharine sour mix of you. Heavy on your sweet apple undertones, and oh, he knows. 

You’re in the cage.

next chapter

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

😬 I've been working on this baby for a long, long time, so I will be drinking your likes and comments desperately. thank you for reading and i love you.

[pandadrake]

Pets for everyone.

I pencil-scribbled a bunch of these werewolf AU ideas in like a day, sorry.

[mimicmockingbirds]

Yellowjackets - Werewolves HCs

I know absolutely no one asked for this, but I'm missing the Yellowjackets crew, and I've been binging a horror media all week, so here are my loose ideas for a werewolf AU as inspired by this post

────────

Van & Taissa:

Obviously Van is the first one to turn, having been attacked by a rival werewolf during her side-quest with Tai, Mari, Akilah, and Misty like in the show

Tai also gets bitten in the process of helping Van heal/deal with her first transformation

From there, they spread the curse to the rest of the group, making them the leading alpha pair by proxy of "creating" the rest of the pack like alpha-parent pairs in the wild

Van struggles with the leadership role, considering herself more of a follower than a leader when in human form

Tai leans into it, being a natural leader in human form; although, since it was her idea to go on the side-quest that got Van bitten to begin with, she is more cautious when it comes to making decisions

Tai also gets more protective of the group as a whole, often herding them or biting their scruffs to keep them in place (i.e. safe) from rival wolves

Shauna:

Instantly embraces having a bigger, physically stronger body as a wolf

Uses it to unleash all of the compartmentalized anger and aggression she carries in human form, making her the most snappish of the group, bordering on feral

Consequently, she really struggles to submit to Tai and Van as the alpha pair, often testing their patience by trying to go off on her own or stealing scraps of their food

Has a lot of nicks on her body from Taissa constantly having to correct her behavior

Jackie:

The complete opposite as Shauna; she absolutely hates having a second body and the strangeness of having to navigate it

Is the most resistant to change in general, so her transformation process is particularly difficult

Stays in her human form as much as possible; only really shifts when there's conflict among the other wolves and they need a mediator to calm things down (especially because it's usually started by Shauna)

Since she's in human form so often, her social standing in the team/pack starts to decline, making her more submissive and subdued

Natalie:

Is resistant to the change at first, as she is resistant to the supernatural in general

Gradually starts to embrace having a wolf side when it proves useful in hunting/providing for the others

Starts to thrive because wolves naturally communicate via actions, which she prefers as someone who was raised on volatile emotions rather than rational words

Sometimes stays in wolf form just to vibe and show her affection for others, clambering on top of them or licking their muzzles when she's in a good mood

Mostly reverts to human form when she's upset, because it's easier to hide her emotions that way (although it quickly becomes a sign in and of itself that she's in a poor mood)

Misty:

Is absolutely enthralled with having a new, bigger body with better senses and strength

She is still the smallest of the group, so she compensates by being very vocal as a wolf, constantly yipping or howling

Shifts between human and wolf the most often, usually at random, because she does still value having human qualities when she needs to play group medic

As a human, she lacks a lot of social awareness for boundaries; as a wolf, that becomes even worse

Constantly inserts herself into others' personal space, butting her head or muzzle against theirs to see what they're doing or where they're going; consequently, she receives a lot of corrective behavior from the others, like nips to the ear or base of her tail

It works for about 5 seconds, then she's right back in their space

Laura Lee:

Absolutely hates shifting

Still views the entire situation of being stranded, and now forced to deal with transformations into another body, as some form of divine punishment

Like Jackie, mostly keeps to her human form whenever possible, and shifts only to play mediator when the others need it

However, unlike Jackie, her social standing doesn't suffer, since she has status by proxy of being friends with the likes of Van and Lottie

Lottie:

Is disorientated by the transformation process at first, wondering whether it's another symptom of her mental illness or withdrawal from her meds

Eventually accepts it, and is even comforted that she's not the only one suffering from strange phenomena for once

Due to her acceptance to change and the unknown, she is able to shift the most easily from one body to the other

She's the most attuned to the Wilderness as a human, so she has the best senses as a wolf; starts to accompany Natalie on hunts, wherein she tracks down the prey for Nat to kill

Is very anxious, so she is often scratching or grooming herself; her fur gets patchy around her paws from licking them so much

Builds a closer friendship with Natalie (from hunting together) and Van (for gifting her the bone-necklace), so they try to console her anxious habits, either by laying next to her or directly on top of her to keep her still

Travis:

Only embraces the change when Natalie does, especially since it proves so useful in hunting

Despite being a bigger size than the girls, he has the lowest social standing, since he was never officially on the team and thus, is considered an outsider to the instinctive pack dynamic

Mostly hovers at a distance from the girls during any gathering; however, he only exhibits outwardly submissive behavior like lowered ears and a tucked-in tail towards Van and Taissa, since they're the official alpha pair

Prefers to flee rather than fight during conflicts amongst the pack, only becoming aggressive when his hunting partners (Nat and Lottie) are involved

[wild-pineapple-butt]

@bleachbrainrotbro from here

"It's cuz yer usin' those fuckin' powers of yers to hypnotize me or whatever!" Renji complained. Even if he wanted to move, even if he wanted to desperately break out of this humiliating pose, that asshole of a vampire must have used some sort of powers of his to make him stay. Because surely, there was no way he was in this position out of his own will.

He continues to glare, an involuntary shiver running down his spine at being praised. "I'm not a dog," he bit out, eyes defiant.

[blackwood4stucky]

WIP Poll Game 🤭

Y'all see what I did there? 😏

Tagged by @metalbvcky 🩶

Game Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Y'all go please vote in my other poll too, it's for "the sun also delights in moonlit nights"!

No pressure tags: @kingofsorrow20 @katie-delaney @gyokujyn @readmymindao3 @dvrkblooms @museaway

[cryptid-paint]

Me hitting Miguel with the werewolf beam is a canon event, anyway werewolf dad Miguel au

[yandereloveraw]

Poly/Pack A/B/O OCs x Y/N Facts

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Vanilla and Xavier are the best at knowing how you're feeling and what you need

Xavier makes the best nests

Archie is naturally warm, so he lets you and the others sleep on/around him [Group cuddles are included]

Jasper likes to make you laugh when he smells that you're upset/stressed

You get together with everyone and have jam sessions/movie nights

Archie and Vanilla are the protective alphas of the pack. No one is laying a finger on anyone in your group when they're around

Everyone shares each other's clothes

Vanilla makes meals for the pack

Archie gets better at opening himself up to the group with your help

[direwombat]

wip music monday

tagged recently by @inafieldofdaisies, @voidika, and @simplegenius042 to share some music inspiring my wips (ty all so much <3)

the fingers in the father's soil verse brainworms have been wriggling today, so here's a song that gives some good syb/billie vibes

Help me, Lord, from these fantasies in my head They ain't ever been safe ones I don't fellowship with these fake ones So let's travel to white chapels and sing hymns Hold rosaries, sing in stained-glass symphonies Cleanse me, Holy Trinity, from this marijuana smoke smell in my hair Say I'm nothin' like my father But I'm the furthest thing from choir boys and altars Double cross me, I'm just like my father I am colder than Titanic water

and here's a billie/solomon song (because it ain't true love if they ain't actively tryin' to kill each other <3)

Lay your head down Down, down My love's gonna pull you down Down, down One shot and you're six feet down Down, down Bang bang bang! I'd do you where you stand So take a look at me, yeah Bang bang bang

taglist:

@marivenah, @statichvm, @cassietrn, @trench-rot, @harmonyowl,

@fourlittleseedlings, @carlosoliveiraa, @purplehairsecretlair, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman,

@finding-comfort-in-rain, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable,

@alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to share music inspiring them! (taglist opt in/out)

[elysianightsss]

Vicissitude | Series Soundtrack

[pandadrake]

Was going to doodle a werewolf AU Miguel design because it would be stupid easy, but then I got blindsided by the 1610 boys. Peter-1610 was a real one.

I feel like werewolf stuff is kind of my brand (unintentionally) even though I never upload any of it here. Bonus: a kitty

(Miles, he looks like Abuela for the same reason you do.)

[mimicmockingbirds]

Would love to know more Werewolf HC’s and how the pack dynamics work ft. the JuniorJackets with your werewolf verse im absolutely obsessed with it and how you’ve nailed their canon personalities/traits in how they respond to the change of becoming werewolves. Would Gen easily fall into the Hunts with Nat and grow her relationships there and importance in the pack? What type of wolf would Mari and Akilah be? What about the parallels between Mel and Shauna with the former fully embracing it as she is no longer weak? Aaaaaah so so so good!!!

These are all great questions! I just realized I originally made that post last year, before season 3, so I didn't really think of their roles since those characters didn't start playing a big part of the plot yet (besides their occasional snarky comments lol). Now that season 3 has shown some more of their personalities, I do think it's worth exploring how they translate to the werewolf 'verse!

My personal headcanon in canon is that Nat was the one to ask Gen to help out with hunting when she got too busy with other things, and that's pretty much how I imagine things happening in the werewolf 'verse too. Like, given the enhanced metabolisms of werewolf bodies, the group would probably need to eat more, so they would need to hunt more. And being a year or so younger, I feel like the junior girls' wolf forms would have more energy and stamina, and Gen in particular always seems at least present when things are going on, taking stock of things, so I could see Natalie asking her to join on hunts with Travis and Lottie, and the three of them help teach her their little system for tracking and bringing down prey as wolves. And yes, I do think her social standing would go up because of it, just on account of the confidence she builds from having a "job" to do, and helping to physically provide for everyone.

Akilah, I could also lowkey see being in the hunting group, too. We've seen she really loves animals and easily connects with them, so I could see that being considered an advantage the hunters want to use. Though, because of her soft-spoken personality, I think Akilah would kinda struggle with it, unlike Gen. Like she can't help but be gentle, and can't really commit to really sinking her teeth into anything, be it prey or even one of her packmates (like if someone wants to playfully roughhouse with her, or if Misty's being nosey with what they're doing). She just kinda gently mouths at things like domestic dogs do to move them. But with a little guidance from Lottie (kind of like canon), she does learn to be a good tracker, like Lottie herself. Maybe that bleeds into their dynamic as humans as well, wherein that's where Akilah starts indulging Lottie's interpretations of what the Wilderness wants and believing she has some sort of connection to It too

Mari gives me vibes of being naturally clumsy (she did fall into a pit twice, bless her heart 💔) and not knowing how to read social cues (re: her scenes in the cave with Ben), so I think that would play the biggest factor into her as a wolf. Like, she really struggles with shifting, not because it's painful/she's resistant like Jackie is, but because she just doesn't know how to control it, so she goes back and forth at random a lot (and probably tries to save face and play it off as intentional, but we know the truth). She also misreads a lot of body cues from the others as wolves, so she receives a lot of correcting from Tai and Van. But they go easy on her because, unlike Shauna and Misty, she's not testing boundaries on purpose; she just genuinely doesn't understand what she's supposed to do with this new body. She does push it with Shauna sometimes, though, just because Shauna is so aggressive, and Mari doesn't want to be seen as weak by comparison, but again, Jackie and Laura Lee are still alive in this AU (since it diverges from canon mid-season 1) so they play mediators

It's hard to say for Melissa, since again, this is an AU where Jackie is still around, so I feel that ripple effects into a lot of Shauna's behavior. I could see Melissa still having a crush on her, but mostly in a sense of "do I like this person or do I wanna be like her?" So, in wolf forms that would translate into a lot of just following Shauna around, maybe trying to imitate her rebellious behaviors, but to a lesser extreme since she just does it to be noticed, not because she genuinely wants to challenge the social order. This could probably add to her confidence as a human as well, so she could become more vocal, speaking her mind more. Again, mostly just to prove she can, and not because she's particularly unhappy with the way things are

And I know he's not in your ask, but because I just thought of him: I don't think Coach Ben in this AU would ever turn. He's so resistant to the girls' belief systems and more "feral" behaviors in canon, and tends to cope with that by isolating himself from them, so I don't see him ever getting into a situation where he could be bit or turned. Maybe in this AU he would completely remove himself from the cabin at an earlier point in time, and because of their enhanced senses as wolves, Nat and her hunting party would obviously find him pretty easily. But because most of the hunters in this AU are pretty laidback characters, they'd probably leave him alone at Nat's behest, which sows the seeds for some kind of conflict later; esp with the alpha pair, since Taissa probably doesn't want anyone wandering off, attracting rivals to their area like they inadvertently did when Van first got bit on their little sidequest, and Van starts feeling insecure about the pack dynamic staying together amidst a secret Nat wants her little splinter group to keep from them

[yarnlia-chan]

Happy pride month these two!

[yournameyn]

Why isn't there a ABOverse Were Fic that's surprisingly emotional based on Kim Namjoon?! The Wolfiest Person in the world?

What the hell, Tumblr? If there is please drop a link.

[cyberpawn]

[ 23 ] at the foot of a massive, venerated shrine, one that's been forgotten by time and worn down with age — Maea

FANTASY SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS

Untouched vines hang from the top of the shrine, reaching down from the heavens like a deity's fingers merely brushing against mortal soil on that frigid night. Blossoms and blooms popped up through the shrubbery and grassy forest floor, decorating dilapidated columns and benches made of stone and wood, golden adornments and gems all but plucked and pulled off of the altar space. It was obvious that the shrine had seen better days, had been there for centuries, but yet it still stood. The roof wasn't falling off, the floor was littered with cracks and crater, and most of the writing on the walls and underneath candles and statues was smudged by years of soot and mud and rain.

"That's strange..." The human spoke, as they padded along on their rather usual quest towards legendary status. Hailing from the coastal city of Nyxtide, not so much a city as a network of criminals and cryptids and outcasts all trying to make do outside of the reach of kings and emperors. Heroes were not forged there, heroes died there, and Vale couldn't die before they engaged in one act of heroism! So that's why they were on the move, stowing away in any shelters they could find on their pathless quest.

Most abandoned shelters they found were without food, without water, without even the means for a fire, but here? They could see fruits on the trees, they could see pitchers and cups where water might have been poured years before, but they knew these offerings were not for them. They knew those offerings went to someone far bigger than them, but what of the hearth under the statue in the middle of the shrine?

Handcarved, etched with tears, sweat, and blood, all in the name of a god Vale couldn't read. The statue had no one solid form either, spots of fawns mixed with sparrow wings and bear claws and wolf fangs and an eternal life that cycled through the wilderness, all captured in the still art. Yet, the hearth sat untouched, empty.

To right that wrong, Vale wandered back off into the woods, foraging for sticks and twigs they could snap into smaller pieces to toss into the hearth. Returning with an armful, they dropped a portion of their bounty into the metal hearth, working the firesteel in their satchel to provide some sparks for the tinder, catching quickly and bringing the warm breath of life back into the shrine for the first time in ages.

If only they knew whose life they were bringing back to it.

[lizardrosen]

So I Turned Myself to Face Me

penelope werewolf au, part three (one, two)

“For the first several months I was so tired all the time, but my first season had scarcely begun, so I decided I was just worn out from all the excitement and endless luncheons and dances. It can be fun, even when you've been pushed to the edges, but it truly is work.” She pounds her fist into the cushion next to her. “I told Mama it was too early for my debut, practically begged her for one more year of freedom. Well, freedom ended up finding me, didn't it?”

Eloise leans in closer. “What does it feel like to change, to break free of the cage of yourself.”

Penelope rolls her eyes just a tiny bit. “Do try not to romanticize it. That fatigue was the change at first, while the real work was done just under the surface, where no one could see. My organs had to rearrange themselves, pumping blood faster, making sure I could hear and smell correctly when the time came. And then one morning I woke to find dirt caked to my feet, and the next day, and the next. I bet you can guess what the nights before had been.”

“The full moon! But you still didn't know?”

“No, I couldn't remember anything at all, but my body knew what to do and where to take us. Wolf Penelope was even kind enough to fold my nightdress before transforming so I wouldn't have to explain why it was ruined, but she never thought to leave a note for me. I thought I might be losing my mind, El, really I did.”

“Are you and... the wolf... really so different from each other? Surely you're parts of the same person?”

“Now we are, yes, but I had to know she was there to be a part of me in the first place. It was Marina Thompson – Lady Crane, now – who figured out what was happening to me. We were quickly becoming friends and I knew I could trust in her secrecy. I wondered for a bit if her condition really was contagious but she laughed in my face and said I'd know if I were with child. And then she listened to my symptoms and said they sounded familiar.”

“Is Marina also a werewolf, then?”

“No, but it seems to be more common in the country, or at least less of a secret. It's not so much that they're wilder there, but they're accustomed to wildness and know that wildness alone does not make something a threat, and some threats you just have to learn to live with. So every farmer has a few sheep set aside in case it's their month, and the county squire has funds to pay back the damage. No one needs to get shot in the paw, and no one needs to know who was prowling the night. There's just more space to be who you are, and heavens above, space to run, it's wonderful!” Penelope scoffs at herself. “Now look who's romanticizing a freedom that isn't quite so simple.”

“There's nothing wrong with demanding the space you're owed,” Eloise insists. “Even if that means you expect more than the world can deliver – that's the first step in changing the world.”

“That may be so,” she says with a fond smile. Oh her dear friend, always fighting to change the world whether it's ready or not, what would Penelope do without her? “Marina did make space for me then, a space away from my sisters, away from citrus colors. With her I could just take the time to meet myself anew. She taught me some exercises that her beau George had used to remember that he was still human even under the fur. I think helping me was a way for her to feel close to him after he stopped writing, but sometimes she sent me away because my auburn fur just reminded her I wasn't George. We took a break during the new moon, and kept practicing control, so after another fortnight I saw through the wolf's eyes even when the moon was at its strongest, so I could curl up on the floor if I wanted.”

“Did you? It seems an awful waste!”

“There's three days of the full moon, when I don't have a choice but to change, and that first night, when I knew I would remember, I had to stay in my room. I had to know I could do it. The next day I did go out to join the revels. It's always such a joy when a new monster girl is welcomed to the fold – they make her feel like a queen.”

“Revels, how exciting! Did you get drunk? Does it take a different sort of spirits for a werewolf to get drunk? Oh, who else was there?”

Penelope's frown is instant. “Now that's a question you don't ask. Our very survival depends on recognizing each other by subtle signs, but also on no one knowing who all the others are, and we don't just tell outsiders.”

“Pen, you've known me for years!”

“Yes, but this isn't one of our espionage games from when we were girls. I trust you, El, I do, but for this one thing you'll have to earn my trust all over again.”