#ailuranthropy

[crimson-rabbit]

Human masking as a non-human can become weirdly comfortable because you're constantly having it be affirmed by the society you live in- one made up of humans, whom many are very judgemental and have completely divorced themselves from their animality.

When the masks slacks, intentionally or unintentionally deep down you just want to feel yourself again there's almost of relief and then small moments of panic.

You're transported back to when the body was young, and wild by its own rules, before you had to be like strangers because shame is more potent than being yourself.

It's like dipping your toes into waters you once knew and still trying to stay afloat. To allow your true self to envelope you while being aware of the expectations of humanity.

I have yet to discover the duality.

[darlinailuran]

Y'ALLL I GOT A TAIL AND ITS SO GOrGEOUS-

second pic is the size ref

[tylidae]

another werecat for the werecat club

[luunaathh]

•A Lycodraconic Werewolf's Experience With Clinical Lycanthropy and Therianthropy•

•Greetings to those of you who have stumbled upon this post. I have written a resource detailing the vital things to know regarding clinical lycanthropy, clinical zoanthropy, and its false relations to the therianthropy community. As someone who both identifies as therian and suffers from clinical lycanthropy, I wanted to write a resource provided from the perspective of someone who actually suffers from clinical lycanthropy in order to discuss the subject and debunk misinformation. The resource as details why therian and otherkind identity are not related to clinical lycanthropy in of themselves. This resource may be edited at a later date to add any new information to the resource. Do feel free to ask my being additional questions about clinical zoanthropy or clinical lycanthropy. l will always answer all good faith questions. Feel free to share this post around with any other individuals.

<•>

•https://luunaathh.dreamwidth.org/13167.html

[mountain-lion-gremlin]

Genuine question for clinicals who are able to double book-keep (I think that's the right term, please forgive me if it isnt I'm not clinical) have you ever had an experience where your body was shifting but you could feel that it was still physically human? Or did it feel like your body was literally changing into an animal and couldn't at all tell that it was still physically human?

This may be a dumb question but im curious! Let me know please!

(constructive criticism or information is greatly appreciated!)

[were-candy-gutz]

Anyone else have internal transformations ? Like I can feel my vocal cords change sometimes and can't talk when it's happens, even if my visible body isn't changing

[clinically-kitty]

Were draws. Tried to be a little closer to life

[zannenilsson]

Bubastion

Originally published in Issue 5 of "Vulture Bones." New illustration by @stariteart CW: ableism towards main character

Oh shit. Putting in a prescription never takes this long. Is there a problem with the insurance? Oh no, please don’t let it be my insurance. This is the only place in town that takes it.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Winters” the pharmacy assistant says, “but it looks like we don’t have any Bubastion in stock.”

Shit.

“We’ll have to put in a special order for it. It’ll get here in about…” Rapid typing, a few clicks, and the punchline: “One week.”

SHIT.

“Ah,” is what I say out loud in my bright work-voice, now with a bit of an edge. “Is it possible — I mean, do any of your chain’s nearby locations have it in stock? Can you transfer it there?”

The assistant hums and says she’ll check; clicking ensues. Behind me, the next person in the drop-off line sighs loudly. Screw them.

My grip on the edge of the counter tightens. Please, please say yes.

“No, sorry,” she says instead. “It looks like it’s backordered at every location within a fifty mile radius.”

My hands release and fall to my sides. “Okay. Thanks for looking.”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” she says in a sympathetic tone. “We’ll get it to you as soon as possible, I promise.”

I thank her and turn away; the next five people in line sigh in relief.

My feet shuffle over the scratched linoleum floor, but my mind is racing. I struggle to remember how I managed my condition back in college, before I finally got treatment. Well, “managed” isn’t the right word. Back then my condition managed me.

Before Bubastion I missed classes all the time — the bad days outnumbered the good ones. So I kept failing, and failing, and failing. I was smart, they said, but didn’t apply myself. Of the seven off-and-on years I spent in college, only the last one was with medication. Suddenly I aced everything. Things were so easy that I was downright angry, because it could have been like that the whole time.

Shit, I’m going off track — is it starting already?

Focus. I used some kind of home remedy to help keep myself together. Think. I start snapping my fingers to help me think. A taste comes to mind and I struggle to place it. Wait…

“CATNIP TEA!” I shout. Nine people in this crowded pharmacy turn to stare at me. I smile apologetically.

I stroll towards the herbal supplements aisle and grab the last two boxes of catnip tea. Hm. I need something else to explain why I look nervous. My free hand snaps its fingers: condoms and lube. God bless the sex aisle.

At home I leave the tea to steep and check myself in the mirror for any signs of change. Things look good — no sign of whiskers, excess hair, tongue roughness, or anything else inhuman. So far.

No, stop it. Deep breaths. Getting anxious only makes it worse.

The kitchen timer dings and I pull the teabag out of the cup — can’t let it steep too long. Squeeze in some fresh lemon juice, or maybe add a touch of mint, and bam: a damn fine cup of catnip tea. It isn’t as tasty as spiced chai, and it doesn’t handle my symptoms as well as Bubastion does, but it’s the best I can do right now. So: bottoms up.

Another cup follows, and another. I start planning ahead, making a few gallons of iced catnip tea to put in my work thermos in the coming days. Excessive? Yeah, but necessary. There is no way in hell I can let my coworkers know I’m an ailuranthrope.

Yes, I know ailuranthropy isn’t that uncommon anymore. And save me the speech about how the stigma will never go away unless people affected by it talk about it, okay? I know. It’s nothing to be ashamed of and it’s not my fault and I know.

But I mean, spontaneously changing into a cat-person isn’t the kind of thing you can bring up in normal conversations, let alone work conversations. “Sorry, I need to take a personal day today. I can’t get out of the house — it’s raining, and I’m having one of my cat days. You understand.”  

Yeah, like hell they will.

My coworkers absolutely wouldn’t get it — not even my manager, as lovely a person as she is. I hear the jokes they all make whenever somebody’s being “catty” at the office: “Did you forget to take your meds or something?” They throw it out without thinking, but I notice it. Every. Single. Time.

So, for the next week, I decide to keep my head down, stay at my desk, and get so much work done that nobody will think anything’s wrong. The fewer people I see and the fewer people I talk to, the less I’ll have to worry about anyone noticing. I count down the days until I can get my Bubastion again.

Five days. David, the office gossip, refuses to leave me alone. He sets his coffee on my desk, which means he plans to stay a few minutes. Great.

“Hey, Freya. Did you hear about Amy in H.R.?”

I haven’t, and I don’t care. I hum neutrally and he continues.

“She went all werecat right in the middle of a meeting. Apparently she ran to the bathroom and tried to splash water on her face to make it go away but, like, you can’t wash off being a cat.”

I hum again and keep my eyes on my computer screen. My typing intensifies.

David shakes his head, smiling. “Crazy, right? I would have never suspected her— she doesn’t seem like the type.”

There isn’t a ‘type,’ asshole. “Crazy,” I echo.

Only now do I realize how close his coffee cup is to my right elbow. Perfect.

I look up at David and fake a laugh. “Oh man, that reminds me of this one time at my last job.” I turn towards him, keeping eye contact. My elbow hits the cup and sends it flying off the desk and onto the floor, splattering coffee all over David’s new shoes. He yelps.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry,” I say, grabbing a tissue out of my desk drawer. “Here, I’ll clean it up.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he mutters. “I’ll take care of it.”

Four days. My arms are definitely getting furry now, but thankfully it hasn’t spread to my hands yet. Ginger tabby fur is hard to explain away, even if it matches my normal hair color. Long sleeves will take care of it.

“Aren’t you hot?” David asks during his morning coffee break. He’s wearing his old shoes.

“Hm?” I say, looking back to my computer.

“You’re wearing long sleeves and it’s ninety degrees outside.”

Well I’m not outside, am I? “I’m always cold in here. They turn the AC up too high.”

“Seriously? If anything, it’s not high enough.”

I make a neutral noise, and eventually he leaves. The truth, of course, is that between the fur and the sleeves I’m hot as hell. Soon I won’t even be able to sweat anymore, except through my paws — I mean hands. Hands.

Three days. My tongue is getting rough now and I keep getting the urge to groom myself. I guess that’s understandable; with all the fur I can’t really shower anymore unless I want to take thirty minutes blow-drying everything.

At home I brew more tea, even though I’m sick to death of it. How the hell did I do this through most of college?

While the tea steeps I call the pharmacy hoping the Bubastion came in earlier than they expected. It hasn’t. After hanging up I let out a long, complaining whine. Well, not exactly a whine; more like a meow.

Shit.

Two days. And I’m starting to think I’ve developed a cat allergy sometime since my last transformation. Is it even possible to be allergic to yourself? Guess I’ll find out.

My eyes are too noticeably catlike now to get away with at work. Sunglasses? No, wait, then they’ll think I’m hungover or stoned. Do I still have…?

Digging through my bin of assorted junk under the bathroom sink, I finally find my old cosmetic contacts. Probably gonna get an infection or some shit, but what else can I do?

I keep rubbing my eyes all through the workday. Stop touching it, dumbass, you’ll make it worse.

When David wanders over for his daily chat and opens his mouth, I immediately excuse myself.

“Gotta put in some eyedrops, be back in a minute.”

He seems a little offended but doesn’t say anything, which is exactly what I wanted. Not even remotely sorry. My patience will be back once the Bubastion comes in.

Last day. I don’t have hands or feet anymore. They’re full-on paws now. Sure, they’re polydactyl paws so I can theoretically keep doing the thumb thing, but this isn’t something I can easily hide. Gotta call out sick.

Have you ever tried to operate a phone with cat paws? Even with pseudo-thumbs it’s goddamn impossible. I dig out an old stylus and use it to pull up my manager’s contact on my phone.

In my best sick-voice I answer her greeting with: “Can you all handle things without me today? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ve got some kind of stomach bug — it kept me up all night. If you need me to, I can come in, but if not, I think it might be best if I don’t spread this around the office, you know?”

She agrees and tells me to stay home. As soon as I hang up, a knot of guilt forms in my stomach. I hate lying to her. Hell, I hate using sick days even when I genuinely need to. But I can’t function like this. What work can I even do when I can’t type?

Long naps eat up most of the day until I get the call I’ve been waiting for; the Bubastion finally arrived. Tomorrow morning can’t come soon enough.

Refill day. Finally.

But, I’m a full-on cat now. Sure, a human-like one that stands upright and all, but a cat in every other way.

In the front hallway, I look from my paws to the door and back. I struggled my way into real outside-world clothes for this but I just can’t seem to get out the door.

It’s not the driving to the pharmacy that’s the problem — I’ve already learned how to manage that on a cat day. It’s the being out in public part that has me sweating through my paw-pads.

I can do this. I’ve done it before. Come on. Just open the door.

But when I do, I’m frozen with indecision. Do I go out and face the stares and judgements and laughter, all for a medication that some people say I don’t really need?

I try to snap my fingers to help me think, but I don’t have fingers anymore. Dammit.

Do I put up with the people treating me like I’m infectious or unpredictable, that I’ll scratch them and they’ll get this, too? It doesn’t matter how many doctors say that’s not how you get ailuranthropy. Some people still believe the cat-scratch “truthers” who perpetuate a myth that was used to drown people like me for centuries.

Maybe it would be better to stay inside where I know I’ll be safe. Maybe this will go away on its own. Maybe the Bubastion isn’t worth it.

Wait. I know these thoughts — they followed me all through college. They prevented me from getting treatment for years. I spent those years struggling and hating myself. They were never really saying the treatment wasn’t worth it; they were saying my life wasn’t worth it.

Fuck that.

I step outside and slam the door behind me. I’m not going to let anyone’s ridiculous thoughts — including my own — stop me from doing what I know will help me.

Ten minutes later, I stomp through the door of the pharmacy. Or try to at least; stomping isn’t really possible with cat feet. I walk straight back to the pickup counter through the center aisle, disregarding the whispers of the people I pass. I patiently wait my turn in the pickup line.

“I can help the next…” the pharmacy assistant’s voice trails off when he sees me, and it takes him a moment to remember to smile as I approach.

Smacking my front paws down on the counter, I look the assistant dead in the eye and tell him who I’m picking up for and what my birthdate is. He goes back and fumbles through a few bags before returning with mine.

“We have one prescription for you, it’s the—”

“Bubastion. Thanks, I know, I’ve been waiting for it.”

“Ah,” he replies and quickly looks away to finish processing it.

When he asks for a signature on the touchscreen, I leave a paw-print. He hands over the bag and mumbles something about having a nice day.

“Thanks, you too!” I reply in my work-voice and turn to leave. When I do, I bump into the next customer behind me: David.

“Sorry, David, I didn’t see you.” I’m not surprised he’s here; like I said, this is the only place in town that takes my employer’s health insurance. I smile at him.

“How do you — wait.” His eyes widen. “Holy shit. Freya? You’re… you’re a…?”

“Ailuranthrope, yes.”

He looks me up and down as the shock on his face morphs into disgust. “And you didn’t tell me? What if I’d caught it from you or something?”

“Well, David, I’ll put it like this.” And while he waits for my explanation, I lean towards him and hiss directly in his face.

As he stands there stunned, I walk by and pat him on the shoulder. “See you Monday!”

[crimson-rabbit]

🌙✨

I've gone through many names but you may call me Seven. I'm apart of a collective, origins unknown but we accept and support Endogenic systems through and through. I'm an ailuranthrope with Infernal roots, my spirit comes from over yonder. I'm also deeply deerhearted.

I've been an energy practitioner for a few years now, my practice centers around my spirit and getting to know myself more intimately. I work with the energies of the Void, the Moon, the Sun, and of course the Earth. The Goddess I operate under is undocumented.

I'm always open to meeting and befriending other beings [18+], if you want to know more about me feel free to shoot me a message.

[enthusedbambi-jjba-au]

a few notes about wordage for the uninitiated:

'cryptian' is a synonym for 'monster' or 'inhuman'. i use the terms somewhat interchangeably. cryptian is my term and the basis for a lot of my other words

'maricrypt' is a more technical term for seafolk / seadwellers, and it's a shortening of marine cryptian. it refers to 'monsters' that are aquatic, generally

'amphicrypt' or 'amphibicrypt' is a term for 'monsters' who can live both in the water and on land, and often, it refers to cryptians who have both gills and lungs (like merrow) or selkies.

zooanthrope is a wide category, but almost all individuals within it exist with the same principles. when discussing things about lycanthropy, you can often assume the rules similarly apply to ailuranthropy, which is basically the cat version.

there are other kinds of zooanthropes with different animals, but mammals are the most common, and in particular, canines and felines (i've got one for each that i can study!! (un?)fortunately, i haven't found any actual werewolves or werecats. i've just found one lycan and one ailura. But they're both pretty different so at least theres that!)

'lupomorph' pretty much means 'wolf form' i just think it sounds cooler and more scientific, plus 'wolf form' kinda carries the implication that you're actually turning into a wolf and lycans generally take a semi-anthro form. Generally still meant to be on all fours but has some limited extra range of upper body movement. i feel like 'wolf form' doesnt do it justice

sometimes i may refer to lunacy, frenzy, and rampage. eventually ill finish my in-depth post either about lycanthropy or about the moon idk which first, maybe it'll be both at the same time. either way, until i can make that post and put it up, heres the short version: the moon is inherently magical and moonlight, due to being reflected off the moon (unlike sunlight) is magically charged. VERY magically charged. because of that there is such a thing as moon overexposure (for those sensitive to the magic), which, in lycanthropes especially, can lead to lunacy.

In a lunic state, a lycan generally loses their "sanity" and control of themselves, and they will often enter rampage, which essentially is a killing / feeding / attacking spree. Frenzy is a similar state to rampage, but it's generally entered by docile lycans (usually after getting a taste for blood) as opposed to lunic ones, so frenzy can often be reverted or pacified.

[darlinailuran]

y'ALLL I GOT A TAIL AND EARS

[werecat-witch]

Hey um do you know if catpeople and werecats are related?

I don’t know much about the origins of catpeople myself, and I don’t think so… but I can share what I know about werecats, and you can tell me if there’s any relation I wasn’t aware of after?

There are two way for werecats to come to be:

Through being cursed— which involves a complete disconnect between The Subject & Their Inner Beast. Best they can hope for is either coexistence with their inner beast, or being cured of their ailuranthropy.

And through having a werecat parent— the beast and the self for genetic werecats is kinda like… the body and the soul? Maybe? Since I’m a genetic werecat, it’s a bit harder for me to explain. Unlike curse werecats, the inner self of genetic werecats is basically the exact same as the “human” self; if they wouldn’t kill someone, their inner beast wouldn’t either. And then there’s the fact that genetic werecats can actually gain the ability to be conscious in both forms, and transform from one to the other whenever they’d like, through witchcraft; whereas curse werecats cannot.

Did this help?

[tylidae]

Can you drop some Fred lore??? I'm rlly curious

hi hi yeas sure!! info under da cut. i wrote a bit more than i expectedddd. i tried splitting it up as best i could.

**cw/tw for unreality dealing with death, alcohol**

ok it'll be a little all over the place and i'll give the bare bones because it's a lot. he's a dude that i like fitting into maaaany universes (like most my dudes) but i'll explain the two main ones.

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

**CW/TW alcohol**

basic info bout fred: he's a 30 something year old fruity german guy who is, unfortunately, a werecat. fred's got a lot of mental disorder type issues (for example he every now and then has explosive self-destructive episodes.) both bc of past stuff and the whole... werecat thing... he uuuused to have a really bad drinking issue, but it's not as bad now.

**END OF ALCOHOL STUFF**

his personality type is mostly quiet and solitary. he can talk to people if he wants to/needs to, but prefers being alone. he loves being helpful when he can and is def a problem-solver. fred also cares deeply for others even if he generally seems distant!! very righteous guy too who will take matters into his own hands. big initiative taker.

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

**BRIEF WERECAT STUFF**

the whole werecat thing isn't something he was like... 'infected' with. i have a couple sketch pages i intend to pretty up and post at some point explaining ailuranthropy. it's either an infection thing or genetic thing. FOR FRED it's like a recessive hereditary disorder that was forced out by like. human interference if that makes sense? ailuranthropy's not necessarily cyclical with full moon phases either. it *can* be by coincidence, but in fred's case it can happen at random sometimes (or on different phases.) say... 80% of the time he's on a schedule with it; the other 20% are the fun moments when he least expects it!!! yippeee!!!!!

and when he's shifted to werecat, fred's like a hungry rabid animal. and it's always a 50/50 waking up to something regrettable (cough cough dead people cough. or ending up on the news somehow as a "panther-like creature.")

ANYWAYS yea he has a lot of issues :-D!!!!!!

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

OKAY. TIMELINES.

#1 ----- the major timeline i think of and have thought about a lot started sometime early highschool? maybe earlier?? in this universe (and the other) fred's kind of like... an anomaly. and there's tons of other people in his same circumstance (with or without the whole werecat problem.)

**CW: UNREALITY /W DEATH** to make a long story short, fred was born quite a bit ago! give or take a hundred or so years. he ended up dying (bc of someone else who's an evil asshole and who also shows up again later on) but some weird shit happens where he comes-to in a different time and place. it's kind of like that theory people have where if u perish in one universe, your consciousness or something will pick up in another (and u dont actually die die.)

HOWEVER he still has some good memory of pre-death stuff. as time goes on it's less and less on his mind (although it does come up in... usually valid outbursts.) he has to readjust to the timeline he's in too.

IT'S MORESO LIKE... death and time travel and not necessarily death + completely different universe (like alien environments or sumn. or soooo far forward into the future that humans dont exist no more.) it's kinda like donnie darko type stuff (not directly inspired, but that's something i can think off the top my head that has a similar time thing going on.)

** END OF UNREALITY STUFF**

in THIS universe thingy he starts off having to skip town to town because of stupid werecat incidents. eventually he ends up in a little town (US east coast baby!) that he hasn't had any issues in... yet.

i like to think he probably works as a university philosophy + history professor (adjunct probs) or something in that field. the past towns he was in will have been other jobs... probably not to that level of profession though. my thought process for him being able to land that job (or any really) was that lev (another oc of mine who i MUST make more art of) would help fred forge shit bc lev coming across him was like "OMG HEY I KNOW YOUUU!!!!" from waaay back pre-death time. and wanted to help him! but that also means he's back to gleefully annoy fred 😭

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

#2 ---- the second timeline type thing was one i thought up with my bf a handful of years ago. still the same death and time switch type thing except he ends up like. way further in the future. he's all nasty and smelly like a dirty sad little stray and the luckiest thing happens to him. world's richest ginger named alfie finds the loser sitting all alone by himself and takes him in <3 and then they get married (yaaay!)

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

tbh if i were to start a project of sorts with fred, which i have seriously thought about since early highschool, i'd prob go off of timeline #1. i have other ideas and dudes for that story too other than fred. i'm going to start animating (or trying to) a bunch of things having to deal with him. i have an amv/pmv cooking thats like. 7 minutes long. that i HOPE to be able to work on again soon :-p

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ABOUT HIM AND THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!!!!!! i tried condensing it down as much i could ; _ ;!!

[were-candy-gutz]

Calling all Shifters! I'm talking to you endels, clinical lycanthropes (and other animals of course), physically identifying nonhumans, etc. Please spread this poll so I can get a broader response

[fenrirchainedd]

>> Hello! I do not have a name, and I'm a werewolf. __________________________________________________ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

☾ || He/it pronouns. I am a transgender man. I have AuDHD and semi-severe memory issues, among many other things, so please be patient. We are a system, though it will just be me [ the host ] on here. If I am misinformed on something, please inform me and direct me to where I can learn more. I don't know everything. ✩ || I am a werewolf/werebeast/were, and completely inhuman. If you cannot be respectful of this, please block me. I am not a therian in regards to my lycanthropy/ailuranthropy. They are physically my species. ☾ || I am also a polytherian, my theriotypes are black panthers, the corvidae family [ most often new caledonian crow, american crow, and carrion crow, sometimes ravens and magpies ], nargacuga from monster hunter, endermen from minecraft and the haunted marionette from castlevania SOTN. Therians are welcome on my page. I do reblog and post things about my theriotypes.

✩ || I post here about my experiences as a were, and would love to speak to and meet other weres. I have created a physical nonhuman and holothere focused, but therian inclusive discord server. This is the invite link, but if it is expired, please DM me for a new one ! >> https://discord.gg/hA6Npknshp ☾ || I am also 21 years old, and would prefer to interact with others who are 18+. My blog is generally SFW. [ With minor exception.] ✩ || I enjoy: goth rock, darkwave, alternative subcultures [ esp goth, punk and grunge ] + fashion, horror media, video games [ wolfquest, katamari damacy, signalis, splatoon 3, castlevania, the metroid franchise [[ esp zero mission + fusion ]], rainworld, many others ], historical fashion, witchcraft and paganism, psychology + the medical field [ specifically wound care ], BDSM and kink, queer culture, and cryptozoology! I love to talk about these things. ☾ || This is a sideblog- I follow back from @themasses-2 . mutuals, feel free to dm me! i love talking to other animals. ✩ || I don't really have much of a DNI, save for bigots of all kinds. I'll block and manage that myself. Lovely to meet you! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ____________________________________________________

[clinically-kitty]

Saw someone reblog and tag my post as #therianthropy so heres your reminder im not a therian. None of my experiences are from the perspective of a therian. Im a cat in my blood and bones and muscles. I see and feel it all.

I dont mind yall interacting, but please dont label me talking about transformations as “therian” posts.