#werewolf writing prompts

[rjalker]

I want a werewolf story but the person wears glasses and still needs them when transformed but their face changes shape so drastically there's literally nothing they can do short of buying another pair of glasses, taking the lenses out, and trying to jury-rig a set of goggles that will A)fit them correctly in their transformed state B)not fall off C)actually let them see D)not get destroyed when they transform back

And that's not even getting into the fact that their normal glasses probably wouldn't even work because their eyes have changed structure and would probably need whole new lenses.

if they can't figure out how to do this or just straight up don't have the money to buy an extra pair of glasses they're just. fucking incapable of doing jack shit while transformed because they can't see anything clearly even if it's pressed against the end of their new muzzle.

This would get even worse if being transformed affects what colors they can see in any way, because now not only can't they see things, they can't even rely on memory to recognize things until they get used to the new gradient of grey to yellow to blue.

No magic exists that fixes this. No it does not magically get fixed after they transform enough times or any other magical related stuff.

They either have to get werewolf-accessible glasses or goggles, or not be able to see. Those are the only two options. And no, sense of smell and hearing do not somehow magically compensate for their inability to see. That's not how this works.

Anyways yes I did combine my visually impaired flags and the all-inclusive werewolf flag.

Here you go:

[ID: Three flags.

The first has nine horizontal stripes, combining the visually impaired flag, and a werewolf flag. The stripes are, in order from top to bottom: Light purple, dark purple, black, grey-blue, white, grey-purple, black, light brown, and dark brown.

The second flag is the all-inclusive werewolf flag, with stripes of light purple, dark purple, light brown, and dark brown.

The last flag is the visually impaired flag, with stripes of black, grey-blue, white, grey-purple, and black.

End ID.]

[coalmonger]

Story idea!

A werewolf pack that lives on a farm. The one human in the family has to try and convince the neighbors that they just have a lot of vary big farm dogs.

[agoodpairofsocks]

werewolf cowboy who kills his own cattle at night and doesnt remember so he stays up all night on his porch trying to catch the wolf that keeps killing his cattle but always "falls asleep"

[saltydumplings]

Prompt #85

"Human?"

"Hmm?"

"Be honest with me," the werewolf said. They'd barely gotten changed - practically still fresh from their transformation as they stood in the doorway.

Their partner looked over at them from where they'd been sleeping, eyes squinting in the dim morning light.

"What?" they asked tiredly.

The werewolf took a breath. "How many socks did I eat last night?"

[ms-write-a-lot]

The villain tilted their head, their eyes shining like emeralds in the dark room. ‘Tell me a secret.’

The hero hesitated. ‘I’m…afraid of the dark.’

The villain laughed at that. ‘Because monsters can hide there?’

‘No.’ The hero clenched the edge of the table, something very animalistic about the way their fingers curled inwards, the way their strangely long nails dug into the redwood. ‘Because I become a monster.’

[whump-a-saurus]

we all know the “vampire whumper” or the “vampire whumpee” tropes, but we never think about the Werewolf whumper/whumpee’s.

PLEASE GOD THINK OF THE WEREWOLVES

- werewolf whumpee = pet whump??? them being called a “tamed beast”?? collars???? yes please!!

- werewolf whumper = animalistic rage?? batting whumpee around like a toy because they’re strong and powerful and they can do whatever they want?? absolutely!!

[unboundprompts]

Hello! I'm back with another oddly specific request, if that's all right? My request is for prompts of a doctor in a low-fantasy setting coming upon an injured nonhuman, if it wouldn't be too much trouble. Thank you in advance!

Doctor Finding an Injured Non-Human Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. A man-- a fish?-- lying nearly unconscious in the shallow waters. His skin was decorated with blue scales, flared gills on his neck as if they were gasping for air. He had a tail and fins in place of legs. What was most alarming, however, was the angry red gashes on his back. It looked like he had been hit by a boat or a jet ski, and was too weak to swim away. She cautiously approached him, and he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know what you are," she muttered, trying to keep her voice unthreatening, "but please let me help you."

There was a werewolf in his backyard, littered in gunshots and limping. It left a trail of blood where it walked. The wolf was wild. Too afraid to allow him to get close, but just scared enough to know that it needed his help. The night would be over soon, and he was worried what would become of its injuries when it turned human again. He would be patient, though. Just to make sure that they would be okay.

They found a vampire unconscious in the woods. She had been caught in the sun, skin red and blistered like a severe sunburn. All they could smell was burning flesh. They lifted her, hooking their arms under hers so they could drag her to the shade.

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[laurasimonsdaughter]

Selkie-Human dialogue prompts

• “Hey, wait up! You forgot your blanket!”

• “I can’t believe you don’t know the difference between seals and sea lions.”

• “I’m not going get cursed or something if I just touch it to hand it to you, right?”

• “Please stop crying, the sea is salt enough…”

• “Hear me out, I promise it’ll be worth it: sushi.”

• “I honestly don’t know what else to do, I’ve ‘forgotten’ my pelt at their place three times already!”

• “Oh sorry! Didn’t see you there, I thought I had the beach to myself.”

• “I need a sturdy chest, preferably made out of sandlewood, or something else that’ll keep the moths out. Could you build something like that?”

[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #13

Concept: Imagine finding yourself intoxicated with the pheromones of a werewolf's heat. You're flipped onto your belly and mounted like a bitch, their straining cock sliding deep into your hot, eager hole. This is no soft, gentle fucking; they pump into you with a ferocity and feral hunger that nearly sends your eyes rolling back in your skull. Their knot is a hot threat pounding against your entrance with blatant intent, and you know where they want it. Where you want it. When they finally drive it home, your climax crashes over you in an earth-shattering tidal wave. You're screaming out in pained pleasure, feeling them twitching inside you with every jet of potent seed into your unprotected womb, the knot plugging you up to ensure conception.

Months pass, and their seed has taken root. Their litter shifts and squirms in your belly, especially when they continue to pleasure themselves in your gravid body. Clawed, furred paws rub fondly over your massive abdomen while they're pumping you full of a fresh load, and you can't imagine going back to your old life.

(A Spooky Season prompt. Feel free to put it to good use! 😘)

[the-likeable-wizard-mack]

What if werewolves sounded like huskies arguing in their transformed form?

Werewolf: *UNGODLY WAILING*

Roommate: “NO. YOU ALREADY ATE YOUR SNACKS. YOU ARE NOT EATING A WHOLE BLOCK OF CHEESE!!”

Werewolf: *MORE UNGODLY WAILING AND HOWLING*

Roommate: “YOU’RE LACTOSE INTOLERANT JERRY!”

[rjalker]

"But it's a nightmare! You're turning into a monster!"

"No I'm not, it's literally just me with fur and claws."

"But I heard you slaughtered a deer! You went feral and out of control and--"

"Do you want to see my hunting license? I am literally registered as a shiftform hunter. Or you can literally just go to my youtube channel and watch the video I made about getting registered and the hunt you're so concerned about."

[theminecraftbee]

hermit horror week day 1: season 8 or game mechanics

His teeth still taste like blood.

He's locked inside the belly of the Octagon. He doesn't know when he got there, but whoever wrestled him into it was smarter than Ren. They realized the full moon's light didn't reach the wiring. They realized it would give him time to down wolfsbane and silver nitrate. It also gave him time to throw it all up in the corner. If Doc were here, he'd be scolding Ren on the fact that silver nitrate is still a toxin and a disinfectant, and he should still be taking it in small doses, no matter how badly he wants to poison the wolf.

He curls up, shuddering, against the wires and pipes that power the shop. He feels thin and gaunt. He hopes he has not had much to eat. He doesn't have a phone or communicator on him. He doesn't know the day. It doesn't matter what the day is. The moon's visible during the daytime, too. It may have only been a night. It may have been weeks. It's probably at least been days.

He throws up again, because wolfsbane is poisonous too.

Most things that can keep a wolf down are poisonous. Ren doesn't have to take them often. He's normally... controlled. A tamed wolf on the full moon. He has a pack to run with. He doesn't need to poison himself to keep the wolf at bay. He doesn't need to take silver nitrate like it's a medicine and not a reagent.

But none of this is making his teeth stop tasting like blood. His shirt is covered in it, too. His legs. His face, he thinks--he can't see his reflection in here. He wouldn't know. But it would have to be. There's so much blood on him.

He doesn't have a scratch on him.

The only thing that stops him, then, from taking more silver nitrate is that if he respawns from the poison damage, he'll respawn out under the moon. He'll respawn back out there. And then--

He shudders. He folds himself into a tighter ball against the belly of the Octagon. In a shaking voice, he cries out for Doc again. Doc has to be nearby. Doc has to be nearby. Because if he isn't--

No one answers. Ren doesn't know who locked him in here. He wonders if it was a struggle.

He's covered in blood.

It smells horribly good. Ren feels dizzy. He's gaunt. He's so hungry. He'll hold that to his chest. He's hungry and sick, not simply sick. If he weren't hungry--if he weren't hungry--

But he's not as hungry as he should be, if it's been days, and he's covered in blood, and he resists the urge to howl, a long, mournful thing. He doesn't want to howl, or bark, or anything else right now.

Instead he cries, a human thing, and holds onto it tightly while he waits for the pain in his stomach and the shudders over his skin and the grey stains where he'd grabbed the bottle and the vomiting to end, so he can take another dose, and force the wolf further down. Down enough to be safe.

Down enough that he didn't maul his friends to death.

Down enough that he can know if he did.

Down enough that he won't try to leave again, as he knows he will, as the moon shines outside, and as soon as someone tries to open the door to rescue him, letting that light back in.

[shiftertech]

Werewolves but the method of transmission is if a werewolf loves you strongly enough, and you let them close, settling into their clawed embrace, you can join them.

[thepenultimateword]

Spooktober Prompt #14

Werewolf wrapped the blanket tightly around themselves. “One of the scariest parts about being a werewolf is waking up in the morning and not knowing what I did the night before. The loss of mind. The loss of choice.”

Human yawned and flopped the other direction.“Ah yes, cuddling so frightening.”

Werewolf bristled. “It is when I don’t remember the cuddling!”

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Short Prompt #1274

CW: character death.

The massive werewolf lay peacefully on the wooden floor, its body loosely coiled around its master's chair. It played aloof as if it couldn't understand any of the conversation, but they could already tell the visitor held ill intent.

From their tense body and words to the smell of silver the wolf had picked up when the stranger entered - things were about to get interesting. But, of course, Werewolf knew its master was no fool. There was a reason why it had stayed loyal to them for so long.

Before the human visitor could even grab the handle of their hidden knife, the wolf's master was already on top of them. The human's neck snapped with a loud crack in mere seconds.

"Not even going to get up today? Some guard dog you are," the wolf's master, the vampire, scoffed with amusement. The werewolf made a show of yawning and flopping over onto its back.

"You had it handled," the wolf growled, stretching lazily.

"That I did," Vampire smirked. "One less hunter for us to worry about."

[teencopandthesourwolf]

Darling one <3 my prompt word is "tummy ache" which is alarmingly fitting right now.

hope this helps, boo!

.

It's early, too early for daylight.

Derek opens his other eye and assesses the situation: puffs of air on the back of his neck, too abrupt for normal breathing. 

Beside him, Stiles doesn't so much shift as jerks a little, as if he's trying not to move any more than that small amount. 

"Hey, you doing okay?" Derek whispers.

Beacon Hills sheriff might have an inkling that Derek has been climbing though Stiles's perpetually open window for the past two years or so—in the daytime. But Derek is positive he doesn't know about the sleeping-with-his-only-son part that has been happening for the last few months. Because Derek is still alive.

So. Whispering it is.

Silence.

Then a pitiful, drawn out groan. 

"Stiles?" 

More groans. Then a croaked, "I'm dying."

Derek is on Stiles in a millisecond. "What is it? What's wrong? Stiles? What's—" and his hands are flying over every inch of the kid. 

"Shit, Der, I'm not really dying," Stiles whispers back, batting Derek away. 

Derek wouldn't need to be looking at Stiles to know the face he's pulling.

"Ugh, feels like it though. My tummy hurts so fucking bad right now. I can't get comfy, I can't get back to sleep and I hate everything and everyone and I would honestly be perfectly okay with passing over to the other side, now. Like. RIP me. Swear to God, Der, the afterlife never sounded so good." 

Derek rolls his eyes. His very human boyfriend is so very fucking dramatic. 

Boyfriend.

Thinking about him and Stiles like that still makes Derek's stomach flip like he's fourteen again. Even when he's smooshed up right next to him in bed. He wonders if that will ever change and immediately doesn't think it will. 

Derek peers down through the gloom at a pained looking Stiles, then instinctively flicks his eyes to the numbers glowing a dim blue on Stiles's alarm clock. 

4:32

Stiles is about to say something but Derek quickly silences him with a hand placed across his mouth, essentially gagging him. 

Just when Stiles looks as if might sink his teeth into Derek's fingers, there's an ominous creak on the landing, and they both simultaneously stop breathing. 

Thud. Trickle. Drip, drip, drip. Flush. Running water. Creak. 

The town's sheriff is nothing if not habitual.

After another moment, Derek removes his hand but puts a finger to Stiles's lips to tell him to stay quiet. Then he strokes Stiles's cheekbone as he shifts a bit in the bed, until he can place his other hand gently on Stiles abdomen.

Derek now focuses all of his thoughts and senses on Stiles, until there's only Stiles, everything Stiles is. Until he's aware of Stiles's pain. Until he is Stiles's pain. Derek's face twists a little with what is a really nasty, sharp feeling but looks up to thankfully see Stiles's features smoothing out as the hurt drains from his body. 

"Dude," Stiles whispers, before his eyes widen and he's slapping his own hand over his mouth—his dad could still be awake. 

Derek un-grits his teeth and cracks his neck, removing his touch from Stiles and flexing his hand a few times as the pain in his arm starts to fizzle away. 

Better? Derek asks silently with raised brows. 

Stiles grins so big it makes Derek's heart thump harder in his chest. 

Dude! Best. Boyfriend. Ever! Stiles mouths back, in such an exaggerated manner Derek's pretty sure even a person who speaks no English could tell what he said. 

Given the current hushed situation, Derek supposes he'll let the dreaded 'dude' slide.

(Realising for the first time that he's completely head-over-heels in love with this adorable idiot has absolutely nothing at all to do with it).