#and even if they do its probably just going to be like hunting?

[theshypinkflower]

Since we know how fox abt MC having twins, triplets or more.. I feel like he get excited if he managed to get MC pregnant with quadruples or sextuplets. Besides how fox feels abt twins or more babies, How would other btd / tpof characters feel if MC had twins or more?

I'm not really going to ask for Sal since we all know that man's breeding link... Absolutely scary.

How would

Mason, Derek, Matt, Celia, Sano, Akira, Vincent, Jack, Cain feel about them?

Mason: A bit iffy on kids, but I'd think he'd see it as having more help around. Sure there's the downside of more mouths to feed, but just means he can teach them how to hunt! His eyes would narrow at the news, since he's already not 100% on brining even 1 kid into the world. Belief that he's controlling the population and what not. I think he'd warm up to them EVENTUALLY, but he's raising them kids to be independent.

Derek: Derek can't handle one kid, what makes you think he can handle two? I think he'd actually faint, not from excitement, but because he doesn't think he can handle more kids. He'd laugh with the doctors and ask if its too late to consider adoption, but that laugh is coming from a place of worry. He at least gets you a nanny...

Matt: He's also kinda freaking out. He can't be like his dad with an insane amount of kids. He'd just be worried he's turning into too much like his dad. But on the other hand he's also excited. Means more brats to raise into basically being like living trophies.

Celia: I'm not sure who would be getting pregnant tbh. If it's you, she frankly doesn't really care. She's like an emotionally absent mom. She'd just do what her parents did and turn life into a competition. If she's pregnant with all them kids you better get right with your God or have a liposuction appointment already set for her. Lord knows she's blaming you and your kids for making her body like that.

Sano: Doesn't expect more than twins. Honestly he can't really handle more than two kids. A lot of them are probably gonna get ignored. He might be a bit excited to try some experiments on them though. Like raising each one drastically different to see what happens. If one of them wants to be a surgeon they're automatically his favorite.

Akira: He'd faint. He fainted when he found out he was gonna have a kid the first time, he'd do it again when he finds out there's more than twins. He'd make jokes about his "swimmers" are strong and then start crying because he's gonna have so many cute kids and he's gonna love each and every one of them. Honestly with all the shit he's been through he's like the chilliest dad.

Vincent: Same as Akira, excited for all those babies. Vincent is wagging his tail at the thought of having basically a little of wolf babies. He's the kind of guy who would have as many kids as he could carry. He'd immediately start picking up extra shifts at the warehouse or get another job to feed all those hungry babies. He comes home extra tired and exhausted, but it's worth it to have a bunch of little munchkins run up to him and hug him.

Jack (assuming you mean TDDUP Jack and not JACKAL): All he ever wanted was kids! Ideally he expected it with his first wife, but some kids are better than no kids. He does feel a bit old to be a dad, but that's not the worst thing in the world. He's really good at disciplining. A bit too good. He puts that doctorate to use. The most sensitive and understanding dad of the bunch.

Cain: All kids are like little gifts from God! Honestly each and every kid would just mean another chance to be a better dad. Even after Sano and Akira he'd feel guilt about his parenting style. He still does have a bit of a favoritism problem though. He'd stay home for a bit and help you take care of all those babies. He understands the difficulty of taking care even just one baby by himself (it didn't help he was in a depression). He'd be really worried about you though. He's treating you like an absolute god you're entire pregnancy. He doesn't want to lose another one of his doves..

[yaut-jaknowit]

Part 2 for Gawtin, life’s come back?

Later in time, reader was found by another hunter, who which brought her along with them, then making a trip to the hunter home world, the scientists, are growing curious of reader, as they are being who could never “die”, the word spreads throughout the town, which the word caught Gawtins ears.

Life Comes Back Part 2

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4110

Summary: For one-hundred and fifty years, you've continued to roam the earth. Jumping from city to city. Never staying too long encase someone may get suspicious. You thought you were safe. You were wrong. You are jumped by three other worlders. They find out you can't die either. Instead of leaving you there, they drag you back to their home world and sell you to the highest bidder. A scientist. You are lucky Gawtin has ears every where.

Author Note: I forget I even had this one. It's been so long since I wrote this one. Enjoy!

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

After seeing on, you never expected to see more. Not since that green being left you after learning you couldn’t die. Maybe in the future it’ll come back for another duel. That, you could see happening. Not this though.

Ragged pants tore as your dry, cracked throat. Thick saliva threatened to choke you, nearly pull into your heaving lungs. You knew the aches would heal when your body refuse to die and release your soul to where it belongs. But the fear was impossible to push down and swallow.

Once was fine. Not easy but manageable. The three that hunted you down would only bring agony and slaughter you. There was no defending, absolutely no winning against that. No amount of fleeing – despite what you’re doing right now – that you’ll escape. Not around here where it seemed to be their home. They moved in such a way that it was evident they stemmed from lands like this.

An arrow lodged its way into your shoulder, tearing both muscle and a cry from your lips. The uneven ground below nearly claimed your body. Somehow, you were able to pick yourself up before you smacked into the ground. Each swing of your right arms continued to pull on the arrowhead embedded into your skin. But the fire wasn’t gone from your veins. They’ll succeed in killing you. There was no denying that. You were going to give them hell beforehand though.

They seemed to know the biome well to traverse through it at breakneck speeds, you know the terrain better. You vaulted over a fallen tree then go into a slide when the ground suddenly pitched in a steep hill. A grin spreads across your face.

One of the aliens pitched head over feet and slammed face first into the ground its body rolled down and the added momentum sent it flying in front of you. It reached the base first and laid there with a deep groan. You shoved off of your backside and used its back as a stepping stone. Your feet swiftly carrying your deeper into the forest you know so well.

Luck does run out.

Wire snapped taunt around your ankle and sent you flying towards the ground before getting yanked back. The thick, metal wire digs deep into flesh. Blood smearing across its silver surface. You gritted your teeth to not give them the satisfaction of causing you to make a sound. You whirled around onto your back to face the offenders only for a heavy foot to land on your chest. It pinned you to the forests floor.

Metal makes covered their alien features from sight. The smugness rolling off of them was a tale tell sign enough to know they were smirking. They clicked, trilled, and rumbled to each other. Probably boasting about catching you. Not that it mattered when they killed you. You’ll just return, healed and in one piece. No mattered what they do to you.

The booted foot presses harder that you feel your bones creak under the weight. A warning. Your face twisted with a silent snarl, hands scrambling to claw, to find a weak point on the limb. Yet, you came up empty handed and worse pain as it doesn’t relent.

One grasps the arrow in your shoulder and pulls it free. You couldn’t contain the choked shriek that left your throat. Blood pours freely from the wound, decorating your shirt and skin in the crimson liquid. Chunks of your flesh stuck to the shredded arrowhead. It taunts the ammo in the front of you. Your own blood trickling down and splattering your face. Not even a flinch from your snarled features as you glared up at the three of them.

Neon green blood speckled one of their scaly hides. The one that had gone flying down the hill. Its foot was on your chest, threatening to cave your ribs in. Cuts and nicks marred its hide. You smirked despite the pain and wanted to make a remark when its foot only added an ounce of weight. Just enough for your chest to cave in. A silent cry on your tongue but the air in your lungs was gone. The last thing you saw was the trio snapping their heads towards your killer.

By the time you came to, the weight was gone. Deep snarls cursed at someone in a tongue you didn’t understand. Sound was desperate to crawl from your throat. You could still feel your bones knitting back together, fixing itself so you could breathe once more.

The angry sounds cut off. Eyes descended upon you, could feel them. You cracked open your eyes open and shuddered at the sight of three metal, emotionless masks just staring down at you was unnerving. If you could move, you would’ve scrambled away form them.

Clicks and trills came from them. One reaches down and feels the inside of your wrist. Feeling a beat as your heart reformed and began to pump blood through your system again, it reared back with a cry. The others did the same by touching your pulse.

A conversation spewed between them. Emotions running rampant in their words. A hum freed itself from your throat. All of them yelped and jolted off their feet for amusement. You watched one kneel at your side and scooped you up. Nothing good could come from it. You let darkness consume your vision.

Alien words filled the air. You blinked your eyes open only to close them. Too bright. A hand was attempted to shield the bright light from your vision. Yet… the limbs was restrained. Your eyes snapped opened despite the pain and found yourself in a medical lab of sorts.

Different colors of those aliens milled about the space. One stood off to your right. It reaches over with a scalpel and cuts into your skin. You shriek and fight against the restraints. The blade cuts deeper before the alien pulls it free. Shock shining in emerald, green eyes. You snarled, spittle flying as you tried to free yourself from this hellhole.

A hand clutches your hair and wrenches it back. Dark eyes glared deep into yours. “Stop,” this alien hisses above you. “Don’t fight.” It struggled with the words but made sure you felt the threat beneath them. You stopped but kept a snarl on your features. Satisfaction with your reluctant submission, it stepped back and released your hair. It’s pale, near beige face looked towards the other yautja, one who was a dark teal and mottle sea glass green. A simple nod given.

Confusion sparkled in yours. Only for it to sour into fear.

“No!” you screamed. Beige hands pinned down your arm and allowed for the teal alien to continue cutting into your skin. It flayed a chunk of skin and muscle from your forearm. The piece was set down in a container. A bandage wasn’t needed as the skin was already knitting back together. Excitement filled their eyes in tandem.

Fear filled your blood.

.

Rumors travel fast. Even when you live in a small clan. All it takes is loose mandibles for words to spreads like fire in a dry brush. So, to hear that an undying ooman had arrived in the largest city on the planet, Gawtin thought of only one person.

She didn’t slip of ever mentioning your existence to anyone. Not even her sister. But, she knew it was you who was taken to Kov. Gawtin feared for you. Not your survival since that always ensure. For the experiments they’ll force upon you to figure out why. Why that no matter, you live. Even it confuses Gawtin but she wasn’t going to force you undergo experiments.

Gear and armor decorated her frame. The large female Yautja marched out of her home with a purpose gleaming in her gaze. Oky was over at his aunt’s until this situation was resolved either peacefully or from bloodshed. How dare they take you.

Her ship lands on the platform with a hiss. The engine hummed they began to shut down. Gawtin was out of her chair beforehand, marching down the ramp and into the busy city. A city far too full in her opinion. How could anyone live here was beyond her. The scents alone were driving a pick into her skull.

Any reasonable yautja kept out of her way as she stalked through the streets. The map already imprinted into her mind and led her straight to the front door of the institution. The air smelled wrong around it. Gawtin felt an unease race up her spine but she pushed it down to walk through the front doors.

A small, simple lobby that was empty besides the lone male at the front desk. Good, someone to demand entry into the back. To wherever they were keeping you. She stopped in front of the desk and set her hands down.

The male looked up at her approach and raised a brow in return. A scowl etched into the green yautja’s face. “I need to talk to Skur-taunh now,” Gawtin demanded. Clearly, she had done her research to know the head scientist. She has her resources everywhere, favors and strings she can pull to get what she wanted.

He scoffs with a shake of his head. “Skur-taunh does not meet anyone. If you would-“ he attempted to deny Gawtin. This is Gawtin we’re talking about.

“She’ll meet with me,” Gawtin said in a low, threatening voice. “Tell her Gawtin is here to talk.”

At first, he just stared at like she was deaf and dumb. Then, he finally sighed and called her from the comm. System. Gawtin narrowed her eyes on the small, brown male. She wasn’t above barging into the place if it came down to that. These scum were most likely harming you. And you couldn’t even embrace death to relieve yourself of the pain.

Thankfully, Skur-taunh owes her.

Soon enough, the familiar beige yautja strolled into the lobby. A white loin cloth hung from her wide hips. Stain with red blots of blood. You. Instantly, Gawtin knew it to be the small ooman that refused to die and held their own against her. You were a prize she have wished to win but this wasn’t what you deserved. It board lines with breaking the code. Science was tricky so the scientists have a bit more leeway.

“Skur-taunh,” Gawtin greeted with a tight voice. She didn’t like working with the beige yautja. There was an aura around Skur-taunh that Gawtin felt at unease. But she had to get you. She wasn’t going to leave you here in those kind of hands.

A fake grin enveloped Skur-taunh’s face. “Gawtin! It’s been forever since I last saw you. How are you, my deer?” Gawtin scowled at the name and tightened her muscles.

“I am fine.” Short. Curt.

Skur-taunh nodded at her. “That’s wonderful to hear. I am doing well myself. Thank you for asking.” Gawtin wanted nothing more than to smack that snarky grin off of her face. “What brings you to my place of work? Let alone geared up for a fight?” Of course, Skur-taunh caught onto Gawtin’s back up plan. Oh well. It wasn’t like Gawtin was hiding it.

Out with it Gawtin came. “Give me the ooman.” No room for argument. That’s what she wanted so she was going to get it. No matter what.

Instantly, the beige female narrowed her eyes on Gawtin. The false friendly look was gone. “Who told you? No one should know that,” she snarled out and flex her hands at her sides. Gawtin knew the research was top secret due to exactly how rare this ooman was. The only one that anyone has ever met. Now in the deadly claws of a mad scientist. You were going to die here. Skur-taunh would make that happen, Gawtin was sure of that.

“Hand over the ooman and I will consider the favor paid.” But Gawtin knew that wouldn’t be enough to convince Skur-taunh to hand you over. That’s why she was decorated with her armor and weapons. A fight will break out.

Unless, Gawtin played it smart. “What you are doing can be considered breaking the code.” It was right there, toeing on the line that’ll deem Skur-taunh a bad blood. Then, Gawtin could severe her head and place it on her wall. First, she had to get you free from these chains and out of the building.

A renewed smirk graced Skur-taunh’s features. “Is it? The ooman was sold to me as a pet. I have ownership of it. Which means I can treat it however I want.” She crossed her speckled arms and shifted to rest heavily on one foot. “How did you know it was here? That must mean you know what is special about it.”

Fake hurt flashed upon Skur-taunh’s face. She placed a hand over her heart. “I’m heartbroken, Gawtin. Not coming to me when you discovered something so unique and special.” Gawtin’s muscles rippled along her back. Skur-taunh was smart. “Imagine the things I would’ve given you in exchange. But no.” A disappointed shake of her head. “I had three new bloods bring me it.”

Gawtin wanted to wring those three necks out. Something like this shouldn’t be sold or bought or caged. “Yet, you must care for it. No punishment unless it is deserved,” Gawtin snapped back. If a pet acted out, punishment or correction was fine. Unless it was severe like amputation or burning. The punishment must fit the mistake.

“This is for the greater good! It can’t die. Not when its burned or head decapitated from its shoulders.” Skur-taunh grew frustrated at Gawtin’s mindset. But, the green yautja wasn’t going to change. “Every time, the parts grew back until it lived wholly once more. The things we could learn from it. We could become like gods.”

A snarl twisted Gawtin’s features. She stepped into Skur-taunh’s space and got directly into her face. “No one should have that power,” she growled lowly, her chest vibrating with each word. “Either release the ooman into my care or I’ll challenge you to a fight to the death.”

Due to the fact Skur-taunh Skur-taunh was a scientist, she has only basic fighting skills under her belt. She would certainly die against Gawtin. It she refused, her honor would be tarnished. Being head scientist would be harder to maintain if people thought her as a coward. This was a lose-lose situation. The treatment of the ooman could also reach the wrong ears. That would doom everything that Skur-taunh was doing here.

With a snarl, Skur-taunh bowed her head. “I’ll release the ooman pet into your care. But mark my words, you’ve made an enemy today, Gawtin. Watch not only your back, but keep a closer eye on that ooman. Maybe it’ll… end up back here again.” Such a threat would’ve sent Gawtin to strangle Skur-taunh but the fact she was giving over ooman still her hands.

“Lead the way.”

What Skur-taunh took her to wasn’t what Gawtin was expecting. The coppery scent of blood was thick in the air, smacking into her senses the moment the door opened. She had to hold back a growl.

Body parts. From fingers, toes, legs, arms and ever a fully intact body besides the head being gone. These were all yours. The scent the same. They had dissected you multiple times. Probably given you nothing for the pain they put you through. Don’t get her started on the organs in jars as well.

Something lit up to her right. Her head turned right at the feeling of electricity in the air. Confusion swiftly turned to horror seeing you in a knee-deep pit. They were sending electricity through the water to harm you. A roar echoed off of the stone walls. Gawtin rushed the one controlling the power and ripped him away from the controls. The shocking came to a stop.

Immediately you fell to you knees, water splashing up in small waves. The freezing water causing your fingers and toes to go numb. You panted and sobbed from the pain, head bowed. Your muscled locking up for another round. But the click of a lock being undone had your head snapping up.

Your jaw dropped. No that couldn’t be. Not after what? One-hundred years? One fifty? Times becomes irrelevant when you can’t die. You could feel pain though.

Yet, that cracked tuck… it was her. That alien you saw so long ago. Anger was evident in her eyes alone. She marched through the water and scooped you off of your hands and knees. The massive warrior cradled you to her chest and exited the water torture they had put you through.

The green beast marched up to your tortures and bellowed loudly. The sound would’ve hurt your ears if you weren’t trying to not pass out. Your frozen, stiff fingers were tucked into your armpits. The cold water hadn’t been the wors. Not compared to them taking you apart quite literally. It was terrible, horrible. You wished you had a knife to teach the two why they shouldn’t fuck with you hand how it feels to get an organ or eye carved out. Nothing to help with the pain.

But, she just carried you out of the building and onto the busy streets. People gave the two of you weird looks and others with disgust in their eyes. You gaze up at the alien carrying you with a groan. Then, you passed out in her arms. The pain finally leaving you for once.

Warmth washed over your skin. A deep grumble sounded from your scratchy throat. Your hands came to rub at the crust in your eyes. They no longer hurt or were frozen. A good sign. Your eyes cracked open to find an olive green form staring down at you. A yelp surged past your lips. You scrambled away before stopping. It was a kid. A baby alien.

It chirped at you and waddled closer to you. Before a sharp snap of tusks stopped it. The small child whimpered and meandered over to the origin of the voice.

There the alien stood, bending at the waist to scoop her baby up. She turned her attention back to you. “How… how are you feeling?” she asked you in a voice you could tell she wasn’t used to speaking your language.

You looked down at yourself. Everything had grown back. The frostbite and electrical burns were gone. You didn’t hurt anymore. Physically. Mentally, they had mess you up. Seeing yourself being taken apart, piece by piece. You just nod your head and stared at your hands. All the fingers were there.

“Are you hungry?” she asks and places her child down on the ground. The little on scampered off to somewhere you couldn’t see. “I do not have ooman food but things you can consume though.” Alien food.

Despite your solemn mood, the thought of trying something from another world was amazing. “Yes… please.” It took you a moment to remember your manners. Being what you are doesn’t offer much for human contact. Now, with an alien in your presence, you didn’t know how to act. But food was amazing. Even if you can’t starve to death, you can still feel the hunger and pain. They hadn’t fed you at all, the entire time they held you. You didn’t even know how long they had you. The amount of times you passed out made it hard to keep up with time.

You didn’t move even after she placed a plate in your lap. She knelt in front of you and used a hand to tilt your head up. Despite the fact the two of you fought all those years ago, she seemed to care about you. “Eat, ooman. Gain your strength.” She pulled away. You gazed down at the fruit and jerky on the plate. The smell of it made your stomach twist painfully with hunger. You don’t remember the last time you ate. They wanted to figure out if you could starve to death.

No new nutrients made the healing process slow down. But, you didn’t die. Unfortunately.

Her brows knitted together. The yautja sat down in front of you and brought a glass of pink stuff to your lips. It smelt sweet. Your lips parted enough for her to tip the glass back and let some fill your mouth. The taste was good. You sipped it down until nothing fill the glass. It helped boost your energy a little.

The alien continued to ensure you consumed the food until the plate was empty. You licked at your lips afterwards before meeting her purple gaze. One you’ve never seen before but you knew this was that creature you fought in Egypt all those years ago. One hundred and fifty? Something like that. You had to move from there a few years after the fight. Civilization was expanding. No one could know you existed. It was too late for that.

“Why… why save?” you croaked out, voice still broken from the lack of used and water. They also liked to slice your throat and force you to drown in your own blood. Yes, you survived that too.

You noticed her muscles tense up for only a millisecond before you find yourself relieved of the plate. The green alien takes it over to a small kitchenette in the corner of this small home. There were no bedrooms. No closed off areas. It did have a bedroom, a living space, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. Just enough for one person to live.

“What they were doing… was wrong. Your abilities should be hidden. Not abused in the way they were doing to you,” she stated unsurely at first then ended with a firm voice. The plated was place on a drying rack before she turned around and face you. “I did no tell anyone about you.”

There had been a hint of suspicion of that thought. But after so long, why tell now? So, you threw that thought away. Just bad luck you guess. Living for so long, you’ve bound to run into another being like her. One that is a bit more compelled to tell someone. Probably gained riches for it.

“Do you have a name?” You might as well know who you fought and saved you.

Her small child was back at her feet, begging to be picked up again. Which, she complied, placing him on her hip. “Gawtin. And this here is Qui-oky, my son,” she introduces the two of you them to you. The green little one she was holding chirped at you, moving his mandibles excitingly.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” you asked after a few moments of silence. You didn’t think you could go home, back to your planet. Not with an alien species hunting you. But, staying on their home planet didn’t sound any better. What could you do now?

Gawtin meets your unsure gaze. “There are options. I can return you back to earth if that is what you would like. Do know they will come after you though. There is nothing that can stop them if you leave here,” she offers to you. You could hear something in her voice.

“And?” You wanted to hear about the other options.

“Or you could stay here. I can claim you as a pet-“ your face twisted with anger and betrayal- “ as a way to protect you. You are fair game to hunt. Pets though are protected under our code. No one could harm you unless you harm them first. That would mean you could have to stay here though. In my home.” This was all too confusing for you. Code? Pet?

But, she was right about one thing: you couldn’t return home. They will come for you.

You looked at the wooden floorboards with a deep sigh. There was no way you could return home only to be captured again and put back into that torture. Gawtin says she can protect you though. She did get you out in the first place and fed you. Wasting supplies on you.

It was meek but the only way you saw yourself living. Really living.

“Okay. I’ll stay here… as your pet.” The words felt vile on your tongue. It all felt wrong. But it was the only way. This may be a new environment. You can learn to survive and even thrive in it. All you had to do was learn. Not being able to die was going to come in real handy.

[stromuprisahat]

Self-awareness?! I don't know her!

Alina comes to after her impromptu meeting with the Darkling.

Ruin and Rising- Chapter 4

Sure sounds like it.

I wasn't sorry, but I felt guilty and tainted, because that usually means one isn't sorry for something... Especially, when it's someone with such deep-rooted issues regarding perceived goodness and own value.

Alina's guide to "practice":

Do it ONCE.

It's bizarre Alina automatically assumes her first and only attempt should reflect Aleksander's experience. As if he weren't much more skilled in all matters related.

She also might've used the Tether connecting them (this time), but she still views it as something NOT hers. Saints forbid she'd DEFINITELY admit there IS something making them similar. It's all the Darkling's doing, his tools, his power. Powerlessness also means no responsibility to develop.

All empty words as usual...

She says, and visits like once more.

The wasted opportunities!

Explain the Sea Whip then.

The Darkling probably does believe he can control Alina, because she is simply predictable. Sure, there was the chapel incident, where he underestimated her suicidal tendencies, and he didn't foresee someone as indoctrinated and stubborn as her, but when it comes to it, Alina is pretty straightforward in desires she allows herself to pursue. As the Darkling eventually proves, the only thing she cares about enough to act is Malyen, their past and whatever it takes to get back to it (firebird).

Even now she's out of his reach due to the Apparat, later Nikolai, and doesn't have a semi-viable plan to "fight" him.

Might it be that the horrible, terrible evil villain isn't as obsessed with it as the puuuuure heroine?

Or that he has more pressing matters to resolve? Like feeding his people now that he's in position to ensure that?!

I wonder how it feels- to put others ~before~ one's own wants, right Alina?

... she says as she stuffs more uranium into that bomb.

It's ironic the Darkling is treated as a power-hungry lunatic, when it's Alina, who's constantly seeking ways to increase her raw power without concerning herself with its practical use.

Alina's just so utterly delusional at this point. She truly believes herself a struggling heroine hunted by an unpredictable megalomaniac, no other option ahead than blood and more blood.

No wonder nothing the Darkling tries to explain leaves any mark on her. The words go in through one ear, register for those few seconds inside her head max., and leave through the other ear.

[hassianlovebot]

ik there's a lot of debate about how palia is mixing heavy lore into what's supposed to be a relaxing, coxy life sim but also like,,, i feel like the way they're doing it now is literally fine?

the lore is definitely part of the world and the quests, but there's literally no in game timer or consequences. nothing bad happens if a player doesn't want to complete the temple bundles or skips lore dialogue or puts certain quests on the back burner (and you can choose to not see certain quests on the main ui so there's no stress there either). like,, i get that the lore Is heavy and that some people don't want that in their cute farming sim but again, there's literally nothing forcing players to interact with or care about it. i genuinely do not see the issue??

[bonefall]

wait, why can’t a decent amount of the members in proto-thunderclan not hunt?

A lot of them have serious physical disabilities! It's enough that it poses a logistical problem, which they are committed to overcoming together.

Thunder Storm's three legs makes him slower than his companions. He's ferociously powerful, but like a male lion, he has to rely on his "lionesses" to slow a large animal.

Bright Storm has asthma from her heroics trying to save SkyClan cats from a fire. She's taking that from Gray Wing, who is famously the first major death now. Like her son, she has a difficult time with chasing prey.

Bumble is dyspraxic. She's a terrible hunter and fighter and struggles with self-worth because OTHERS used it to dehumanize her, and continues to, even after an entire society forms out of love of her.

Sunlit Frost has permanent nerve damage in his arm from the fire, and ends up working so hard that it makes his disability worse. A bite on the good paw from Snake becomes infected after he refuses to sit out from digging graves after the First Battle; I am planning a chunky B-plot about Sunlit coming to terms with the fact he has to retire early.

That's FOUR major members of a small group with physical disabilities that make hunting hard or impossible. They have a lot of logistical problems that I will actually be exploring solutions to.

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[tamagotchikgs]

i had so many repeat dreams from years ago when i was sleeping it was so strange

[turtlemagnum]

fire magic being so prevalent in morrowind is so funny to me, like for most people AND animals it does fucking nothing and yet it's considered like the default kind of offensive magic. like imagine if you lived in a world were certain races were magically immune to certain kinds of damage and white people were immune to bullets, i feel like the US wouldn't have nearly as many guns if that were the case y'know? meanwhile Every Dunmer On Nirn has an 100% resistance to fire and yet they all seem to think specializing in fire magic is a good idea. i mean, it would be if you existed in like cyrodiil or summurset or something, y'know, a place where most people DONT have immunity to fire. but you live in morrowind, where almost everyone's a dunmer. it's the same reason why i never bother with ice magic when i play skyrim, why would i specialize in the kind of magic that most people are gonna be able to resist, that's asinine. anyways, that's why shock's objectively the best kind of offensive magic in TES, basically nobody resists it and a lot of daedra (some of the most powerful beings in existence) are weak to it, and also it doesn't cost as much energy to use as a straight up damage health spell. incidentally i feel like lightning magic would be the most useful for offense in any realistic context too since like, you realize how easily that shit can kill you??? we're literally conductive bags of water, as are pretty much all animals, that shit'd kill literally anything with minimal effort

[crows-of-buckets]

I need to draw my rook bc I actually do have some ideas for them I just. Have NOT been in a creating mood idk I'm so tired... Aoughgggh

[gilfrespecter]

Listening to coinstar by the growlers and thinking about mel so hard I get nauseous

Ridiculous stream of conscious in the tags apologies but not really

[arolesbianism]

Earlier I encountered another fun isat glitch while fighting the king but this time instead of Odile crashing my game she decided to just stop taking damage and tbh that's how it should be all the time. About to take damage? Don't.

[riotbeankai]

I really don't know if I can keep doing this job. All the crap I was most afraid of when I was getting my degree that would make me hate doing the job didn't bother me much for the first year or so but now I feel like I'm dying every time I have to come in here and chase people down for important shit that's missing or incorrect that needs to be fixed before I can pay something and I genuinely don't know what to do about it. I feel like I don't really have any other options than to continue working the job I have but I also want to die for the first time in like a decade

[fabdante]

Have you seen Crimson Peak? If so, what did you think of it?

I very much loved Crimson Peak! I'm obsessed with the costuming and the set design. Also I mean there's a tragic romance in there also which I also enjoy I love a tragic romance and some ghosts. It is also why I'm going to die angry that Del Toro isn't directing a certain 2026 adaptation of a certain book which takes place in a certain moors which is also a gothic romance

[himasgod]

idk if its okay

but can I request for the tapis rouge boyos (vil, azul, jamil, ace) with a reader who gets hit on by a well known celebrity who has a reputation for being a playboy.

thank youuu

ACE, JAMIL, AZUL AND VIL X READER

Where a famous playboy actor wants to flirt with you in Tapis Rouge

How would guys react if, at the Vil's Red Carpet Cadets event, a famous actor with dark intentions approached you to hit on you?

I put Zane as the default name, if there is a Zane reading this, don't be offended😭 You don't need to have played the event to read the one-shot, I hope you enjoy it <3

Maquillaville was packed with rich, famous people who—according to Ace—were annoyingly full of themselves. He wasn't really used to this kind of fancy event, but he played it off well with his cocky grin and bold style. In his own way, he looked great.

You were chatting with a few guests when someone Ace couldn't ignore walked in.

Model, actor, and even film director. He had that fake-perfect smile and a dating history that probably broke some kind of record. Tall, tanned, and smooth-talking, he zoned in on you like a predator the second he saw you.

"Sorry to interrupt," "Zane" said with a charming smirk, "but your smile is brighter than the lights in this place. How about I buy you a drink… or better yet, take you out to dinner tomorrow?"

Ace stopped chewing his fancy canapé. He turned his head slowly, like he'd just heard the funniest joke ever.

"A drink? Seriously? Bro, do you think you're in some rom-com?"

Zane blinked at him, confused. “And you are…?”

Ace slid in next to you, his hand on your hip, flashing his most smug smile, though his eyes were sharp.

"The boyfriend. The only one who can make them smile like that without copy-pasting lines from Google."

Zane chuckled. "Well, lucky you, man. No harm in a compliment—"

“Sure, sure,” Ace said, crossing his arms.

"But there's a difference between a compliment and drooling all over my partner. If you want attention that bad, try flirting with a mirror. Bet it'll respond better."

Zane rolled his eyes and walked off in annoyance.

Once he was out of sight, you turned to Ace, one eyebrow raised.

“Jealous?”

“Jealous?!” Ace spun toward you, visibly offended.

"That wasn't jealousy! That was common sense! The guy was talking like you were a character in some cheesy pickup scene! And you laughed at one of his jokes! Like—seriously!?"

You laughed.

“Oh, Ace…”

He clicked his tongue, but his grin gave him away. He leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Look, I don't care if you're the center of attention. Honestly, I love it. Let the whole world stare… just so they know exactly who you're with—"

His voice dropped to a murmur against your ear.

“—and who they’ll never be.”

Then he pulled back, smirking wider.

“And if that C-list actor tries flirting again, I swear I'm going to stuff his ego in a box and send it back with a bow.”

Jamil was at your side, impeccable. Although he tried to appear calm, he kept scanning every corner of the room… especially whoever looked at you for too long.

And then he saw it.

Internationally acclaimed actor and singer, known as much for his musical hits as for his romantic history. He was the kind of person who turned every interview into an opportunity to flirt and every gala into a hunt.

He approached you with that well-rehearsed smile of his, champagne glass in hand, his eyes shining with that invasive interest.

"I didn't know stars walked this red carpet," he said, scanning you from head to toe. "Do you have a date for after the event?"

Before you could answer, you felt Jamil's firm presence at your side. His smile was barely perceptible, and his dark eyes, fixed on him.

"I don't think you heard correctly," he said calmly. "They're with me."

Zane laughed sarcastically, never taking his eyes off you.

"Oh, I thought you were a stylish bodyguard. I didn't know you were the… boyfriend?"

Jamil took a step forward, placing himself completely between you and him, like a protective shadow.

"I'll tell you this only once. I don't know what kind of games you usually play with your 'conquests,' but if you want to keep your reputation from falling further, I suggest you back off now."

He raised an eyebrow, still defiant.

"And if I don't?"

Jamil smiled with disturbing slowness.

"Then I'll make you understand. And believe me, I know exactly how to do it without ruining your image… although I wouldn't mind that in the least."

There was a moment of tension. He, perhaps for the first time in a long time, felt insecure around someone. And he left.

You looked at Jamil, somewhat impressed.

"Are you always so calm when you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jamil sighed, taking your hand.

"I'm not jealous. I'm irritated. Because that guy dared to look at you like a trophy."

He turned to you, his expression softer.

"And you're not a trophy. You're someone I chose, and who chose me. I don't need to shout it… but I won't let anyone dare touch what I respect."

Every flashbulb seemed to follow you as you walked beside Vil, so perfect it outshone even the biggest stars. The whole world felt like a runway, and you, at his side, were part of the spectacle.

You were used to receiving stares, but this time you felt a particularly insistent one.

"Do you know him?"

Vil whispered near your ear, without taking his eyes off a certain famous actor who was approaching.

It was an international star known for his leading man roles… and for his many love scandals. Vil pursed his lips with the elegance of someone who knew perfectly well who this man was and how little he liked him.

"Only by sight…" you replied, a little uncomfortable as you noticed the actor coming straight toward you.

"Then don't stare at him so much." Vil murmured with a charming smile, but his eyes were sharp.

The actor arrived and, as if he had no idea who Vil was (which was impossible), offered you his hand.

"I didn't expect to see someone so charming tonight. Have we met? Because if not, I'd love to change that."

Vil took a subtle step, standing half in front of you. His face, still sporting a polite smile, was tense like a perfectly placed mask.

"Funny, I thought charm wasn't enough when it came to respect," he said, in that tone of his as polished as liquid poison.

"My partner doesn't usually fall for such cheap tricks, Mr. Zane."

The actor laughed, as if he didn't take the hint.

"A couple? What a shame… Although that's never been an obstacle in romantic movies," he joked, winking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Vil was quicker. He took your hand and entwined it with his, raising his chin

"This isn't a movie. And if you think you can turn my relationship into just another chapter in your "red carpet romances," you're sorely mistaken."

The actor seemed amused by the reaction, but seeing Vil's sharp gaze with pride, jealousy, and elegance, he simply raised his hands.

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so committed, Schoenheit. Lucky for you. And for you too."

He winked at you with a mischievous smile before walking away.

The air seemed to have cooled a couple of degrees.

Vil turned to you, still frowning slightly.

"I warn you, that man is like cheap perfume: strong at first, but in the end, only an unpleasant aftertaste."

"Are you jealous?" You asked with a soft smile.

Vil stared at you, then sighed, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in your attire.

"No. I'm forewarned. Because I value you. And I won't let someone like him touch you with even the hint of an intention."

He leaned in elegantly, his lips brushing the line of your jaw, just enough for you to feel it only for yourself.

"You're too precious to be trifled with. And if anyone tries… they'll have to face me."

The hair, his thin glasses, and that brown suit with subtle pinstripes gave him an air of sophistication that contrasted with his inner nerves whenever someone approached you.

You'd been walking through with him, just chatting, when a tall man with an easy smile and a foreign accent approached you.

"Are you the person everyone is whispering is stealing the event tonight? My name is Zane Duclair but you can call me Zane. Although I'd prefer it if you called me later."

He winked at you.

Azul blinked. He smiled, but his fingers trembled slightly as he gripped your hand.

"Zane Duclair… the actor with three public breakups and five harassment lawsuits… charming track record," he murmured.

Zane gave a carefree laugh, as if everything was slipping away.

"Oh, all in the past. Tonight I'm only interested in this beautiful person," he said, taking your hand without permission. "Would you do me the pleasure of dinner after the gala?"

Before you could respond, Azul placed a hand on your shoulder. His smile was still there, but his eyes were pure ice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your attempt at 'conquest,' Zane, but my companion already has plans with me tonight. And they're non-negotiable."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you? Their manager?"

Azul let out a short, almost mocking laugh.

"No, I'm a bit more complicated than that. I'm the person who knows their every taste, every gesture, every look. And also the person who can't stand it when someone with a questionable reputation tries to fish in waters that don't belong to him."

Zane looked offended, but Azul stepped forward, still keeping his voice polite.

"And if you insist, I can present you with a complete list of legal clauses regarding harassment and non-consensual advances. I'm sure your lawyers will be able to read between the lines."

Zane left, visibly irritated, and Azul took your arm to lead you away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't expect someone like him to approach me like that."

Azul shook his head.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault there are men who confuse charisma with entitlement. But if he approaches you again… I won't need contracts."

He glanced at you, lowering his voice.

"You are valuable. I will not allow anyone to see you as something they can buy or conquer. Because you are already… firmly committed to me."

[rosemaryhoney27]

Phantom Fashion

It all started with a stupid bet. Tucker had dared Danny to do the “Ultimate Strut Challenge” for his livestream—walking down the halls of Casper High like he was on a Parisian runway. Danny, never one to back down from a challenge (and honestly a little bored), played along. He channeled his inner supermodel, flipping his imaginary hair and sauntering down the hall like he owned it. Tucker, feeling competitive, did his own exaggerated version, adjusting his glasses with a smolder and flashing a dazzling smile at the camera.

The video was supposed to be a joke. A quick laugh for Tucker’s followers. But within hours, it exploded online.

By the next morning, “#FentonFoleyFierce” was trending on every social media platform. People weren’t laughing at them—they were thirsting over them. The internet was losing its mind over how unexpectedly hot Danny and Tucker looked when they actually tried. Fan edits, slow-motion compilations, even dramatic art pieces started flooding the web. One particularly detailed oil painting of Tucker was titled “The Seduction of Glasses.”

And then, the email came.

Subject: Modeling Opportunity – S.T.Y.L.E. Agency

Danny read the message about five times before he turned to Tucker. “Dude. This is a joke, right?”

Tucker snatched Danny’s phone and skimmed through the email. “Nah, man. This is legit! S.T.Y.L.E. is huge. They rep actual models. Like, real models. Not just two dudes who were goofing off in the hallway.”

Danny groaned, flopping onto his bed. “I’m not a model! I fight ghosts! I do homework—badly! I don’t walk down runways!”

“Correction: You do walk down runways. And apparently, you do it well enough for a major agency to want you.” Tucker grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Dude, this is fate. We’re gonna be famous! Plus, imagine the free snacks at photoshoots.”

And somehow, against all logic, they were.

A week later, they found themselves in a sleek, modern studio in downtown Amity Park, being prepped for a test photoshoot. Danny, in a fitted black suit with his messy hair styled just right, was told to give a “mysterious bad boy” look. He tried but mostly ended up looking constipated. Tucker, rocking a high-fashion streetwear ensemble with his signature hat slightly tilted, was encouraged to play up his confident charm—which he interpreted as “finger guns at the camera.”

The camera flashed. They posed. Danny tripped over a light stand. And the moment their pictures hit the agency’s social media, the world really lost it.

Fashion brands wanted them. Magazines asked for interviews. Someone even made a fan calendar. The modeling world had spoken: Tucker Foley and Danny Fenton were the next big thing.

The only problem? Danny’s ghost-hunting schedule didn’t exactly mesh with high-end fashion shoots.

Cue the chaos. And an accidental ghost fight in the middle of a fashion gala.

Then came the second email.

Subject: Exclusive Inquiry – Phantom Partnership

Danny’s stomach dropped as he read the email. S.T.Y.L.E. wasn’t just interested in Danny Fenton. They wanted Danny Phantom too. The ghostly glow, the white hair, the piercing green eyes—apparently, his spectral form had an untapped aesthetic that designers were desperate to capitalize on.

Tucker nearly choked on his soda. “Dude. They want you to model as a ghost. This is next-level ridiculous.”

Danny buried his face in his hands. “I can’t just go ghost in front of cameras! What if someone figures it out?”

“They’re offering bank, bro. Like, stupid money. Enough that you could buy actual good snacks for once.”

Before Danny could protest further, another email pinged. This time from a luxury cologne brand. They wanted to market a new fragrance—Phantom Essence—with Danny Phantom as the face of the campaign. The tagline? Mystery. Power. Otherworldly Allure.

Tucker was in hysterics. “You’re literally becoming the undead equivalent of a fashion icon. What’s next, a ghost-themed runway show?”

Danny groaned. “At this rate? Probably.”

And sure enough, two days later, an invitation arrived for a high-end haunted fashion event—where Danny Phantom was expected to make a dramatic entrance. What could possibly go wrong?

Danny refused to be the only ghost haunting the runway, so he convinced Ember McLain to join him. It took some negotiating—mostly promising she could debut her newest song at the afterparty—but Ember, ever the dramatic performer, finally agreed.

“This better be worth my time, dipstick,” she said, adjusting her flaming blue hair as she examined the wardrobe options. “I don’t do low budget.”

Tucker’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, trust me. This is gonna be legendary.”

And just like that, the fashion world wasn’t ready for the supernatural duo of Phantom and Ember.

The moment their first joint photoshoot dropped, fans went wild. Phantom and Ember weren’t just modeling—they were smoldering. The chemistry between them was undeniable, even to those who had no idea about their history. Hashtags like #GhostlyGlamour, #PhantomAndEmber, and #HauntinglyHot dominated social media.

Tucker, scrolling through the comments, cackled. “Dude, people are shipping you two so hard right now.”

Danny, face burning red, tried to act nonchalant. “It’s just… photos. We were posing.”

Ember, leaning against him in a striking black and blue ensemble, smirked. “Oh please, Phantom. You were totally into it.”

Danny opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it when she flicked a ghostly spark at his nose. He was not going to give Tucker more material for his teasing.

Meanwhile, Ember was enjoying the attention. “I gotta admit, this is kinda fun. The cameras love me, the fans love me… and you, Phantom? You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

Danny groaned, hiding his face in his hands. This whole modeling thing was getting out of control. But if the growing feelings he was desperately trying to ignore were any indication… maybe it wasn’t all bad.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Werewolf

There's something terrorising your town every full moon. And a stroke of bad luck has you running into it more than once.

There's something terrorising your town.

The chickens are turning up dead, torn apart with their feathers and blood clumped together all over the yard. The pigs spend every full moon squealing and running around their pens like they can smell a predator in the air. The hunters say there's strange tracks out in the deep woods, tracks bigger than any wolf they've ever seen.

And there's scratches on your door - deep, gouged out claw marks like something wants to dig its way into your house.

You try not to get worked up about it.

It's probably just a fox or a coyote, right? Everyone knows they steal a chicken now and then. And you've seen the six-packs of beer your dad takes when he goes hunting. Dog tracks look pretty damn big when you're drunk and it's dark out, don't they?

You try not to get worked up about it, but every full moon you double check your locks.

You're squinting at the local paper when your best friend comes up behind you and slings his arm across your shoulders. He plucks the paper out of your hand and scoffs at the headline.

"Chickens found dead at McKinnly farm? No one should be surprised by that. Old McKinnly doesn't even have the coop properly fenced in."

"Hey! I wasn't done reading that."

He balls the paper up and tosses it into the dustbin with a smooth overhead throw.

"You are now. C'mon y/n, don't tell me you're buying into all this werewolf business too?"

Your best friend towers over you, every inch of him well bred, football star muscle. You have to crane your neck to properly glare at him.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just sensational nonsense."

"Oh yeah? So you ain't scared of a big bad wolf breaking into your bedroom one night?"

It's your turn to scoff. "That's a pervert, not a wolf. How's a wolf even supposed to open a window?"

The school bell rings before he can give you an answer.

He groans. "I've got extra practice again tonight. Will you come watch me? We can get pizza after."

You grin. "Breaking News! Star quarterback needs his favourite cheerleader around to make life bearable."

He flicks your forehead. "Damn right I do. So whatcha say?"

"Sure. Someone's gotta be around to keep you on your toes."

It's only when he's long out of sight that you remember - you're one night away from the full moon.

He destroys his team mates at practice. When he's pounding down the field, head down and his fingers curled like claws around the ball, he almost looks inhuman.

After practice, he catches you before you can scramble away and rubs his sweaty face all over you.

"Ewwww." You shove him at him unsuccessfully. "You do that every time! It's so gross!"

"Gotta be faster than that squirt," he laughs.

By the time he's done in the locker room, you've already ordered pizza for the both of you.

You head up to the overlook, his old Mustang growling down the highway.

The overlook is exactly what it sounds like - a hill high over town with a great view of the twinkling streets far below. It's a clear night, and the almost full moon casts a silvery shadow over everything.

He slings his arm across the back of your seat and complains when you pick the olives off your side of the pizza.

"God, I hope your taste in men is better than your taste in pizza."

"My taste in men and pizza are equally questionable, thank you very much."

He laughs, "At least you're self aware. Speaking of guys, I know Murrey from Algebra asked you to prom, and Dave from Homeroom."

You groan. "How did you even hear about that?"

"I've got ears like a wolf." He turns to face you. "What did you tell them?"

"I said no. You and I go together every year."

"Atta girl." He sounds pleased.

You offer him some of your discarded olives and he bites them straight out of your fingers.

"Y'know, lots of girls were awfully disappointed you didn't ask them. When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend, mister star quarterback?"

He leans down and ruffles your hair. "I got you in my life, don't I? That's plenty."

Eventually, his arm finds it's way to your shoulder, and he pulls you against his side. He's warmer than you and when you curl up against him, he smirks and says that's what you get for being hopelessly under dressed.

There's an old love song on the radio and you fall asleep with your hand knotted in his jacket.

He drives home extra slow and when he shakes you awake, his hands linger on your waist.

You rub your eyes groggily. "Goodnight mister wolf."

You're already halfway up the driveway before he replies, his voice too soft to hear.

"Goodnight little lamb."

On the night of the full moon, you wake up to a cloudy sky and your dog scratching at your bedroom door to be let out.

You struggle into your slippers and mutter about better toilet training. When you open the back door, he slips past your legs and shoots off into the trees. Yawning, you rest your elbows on the porch railing and try not to fall asleep.

It's only when you hear him yelping that you come awake fully.

"Cruiser? What's wrong boy?"

The street lights reach all the way to the edge of your lawn but the trees beyond are black dark. You make you way down carefully, your sense of unease growing with every whistle he ignores.

Your dad left his old wind up torch near the shed and you grab it. It whirs to life with a dull flicker.

Cruiser is whimpering louder now. You follow the sound of it, ducking under branches and trying not to slip in your flimsy slippers.

The clouds clear and for a minute or two, the forest is bright enough that you barely need the torch. You find Crusier backed up against a tree, his tail tucked between his legs. He ignores you when you call him, staring out into the dark and whining like you've never heard before.

"What's wrong boy? What's out there?"

You can't help the fear you feel. Your dog is hard to scare and you've never seen him this frightened.

Twigs snap in the gloom and you swing your torch around wildly. You try and tell yourself that it might be a deer, wandering in from the deep forest. But all you can think about is the local paper.

"Chickens torn apart. Vet suspects large wolf on the prowl."

But it can't be here, right? You're practically on the main road. You reach down and grab Cruiser's collar, your heart racing. The dog barely acknowledges you when you tug on it.

"Heel Cruiser. C'mon boy."

You try and whisper, but your voice comes out high and nervous. His whimper changes into a low growl that vibrates through his collar.

That's when the moon comes out again. And you see the werewolf.

It's coat is dark and thick, and it's crouched halfway behind a tree. Less than twenty feet away.

How the hell did it get so close without you hearing it?! Adrenaline slams into you and your heart skips into overdrive. You turn on your heel and run.

The funny thing about adrenaline is the way your own body takes control. You duck under branches before your conscious mind even realises they're there. You run faster than you ever thought possible, trees streaking by in black blurs.

You hear footsteps behind you but you can't tell if it's Cruiser or the wolf. You don't bother checking. You just keep your head down and sprint like the Devil is on your heels. Hell, he might be.

The werewolf catches you just as you break out of the tree-line. It slams into you from the side and sends you sprawling.

As you scramble to your knees, you get your first good look at the terror of the town. It's bigger than any wolf you've ever seen. Closer to the size of a small grizzly, with the thick fur to match. It's down on all fours, but it's forelegs are unusually long. It's paws are strangely misshapen and for a second, they look almost like hands. It's body feels more ape than wolf.

Oh, but it's teeth are all canine. All sharp, curving fangs, shining with spit.

It sniffs the air and with a start you realise that you're bleeding. Your palms are sliced up from trying to cushion your fall. Blood, you think numbly. Blood is supposed to make carnivores more aggressive. Whett their appetite.

Staring up at its drooling maw and narrowed eyes, you find it hard to believe anything could be more bloodthirsty.

It lunges for your throat and if it weren't for Cruiser, you'd be dead.

The dog shoots out from the forest, barking loud enough to wake the neighbourhood. He jumps at the creature's back, sinking his teeth into the fleshy muscle where neck and shoulder meet.

The werewolf roars.

It reaches up and tears Cruiser off with one nasty yank. Your dog thuds into the ground with an ugly cracking sound.

You scream - half terror and half rage. Cruiser is trying to stand, but can't manage it. One paw hangs uselessly. Oh, your poor, brave dog.

You act without thinking.

You lunge forward and punch straight at the werewolf's nose. It's hard and wet, and your fist keeps going even after contact. His teeth leave shallow cuts on your knuckles.

The werewolf yelps. Like a kicked puppy.

It backs away a few steps before lowering it's head and snarling. It gears up for another pounce.

That's when your daddy shoots it. The blast from his shotgun knocks the werewolf right out of the air.

It crashes down and scrambles to its feet. Its head swings wildly between you and your father. It growls one final time before turning on its heel and bounding into the trees.

How the hell could it even stand after a blast like that? You shudder, your eyes fixed on the trees.

You can hear your dad on the phone, frantically reporting to the Sheriff's office. You sink to your knees next to Cruiser. He draws his eyes up to yours and whines.

"My brave boy..." You stroke his head with the back of your hand and accidentally stain his fur with blood. "I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

He cranes his neck and licks the tears off your cheek. Just like when he was a puppy. You laugh, high and hysterical. And once you start, you can't stop.

Somewhere in the forest, the wolf howls.

You can't sleep at all after that. And when the Deputies question you, it takes almost all night. They don't believe you entirely, but the tracks their dogs pick up are strange enough to garner a few nervous looks.

You're on the porch, clutching a warm drink and watching the sunrise, when your best friend finds you.

He sweeps you up in a crushing hug, his cheek pressed firmly against your hair.

"Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard."

You pull away, confused. He cups your face in his hand and gently twists it left and right, scanning for any cuts or bruises.

"What? Who told you?"

He cooks his head. "You did. A few minutes ago."

Did you? You don't remember calling him. But you're tired and frightened. Maybe you just can't remember everything.

He sits you down on the porch swing and carefully inspects your palms while you tell him what happened.

"It wasn't a wolf. You believe me right? I saw it clear as day."

"You were pumped up on adrenaline and fighting for your life. You can't be sure what you saw." He sighs, "Maybe it was a wolf or maybe it was a bear or maybe it was some exotic animal that we've never heard about. But really y/n, it sure as hell wasn't a werewolf."

"Yeah... but..."

In the daylight, werewolves and horror feel silly. Illogical. You aren't a kid anymore, you shouldn't be letting your imagination run wild. There's definitely a reasonable explanation.

But every time you think about it, the more sure you feel. That creature was nothing normal or logical at all. It was wrong. Anatomy all out of proportion, eyes too bright and aware, the smell of it more like human sweat than dog musk.

No, you didn't imagine any of it. It wasn't a wolf at all.

"How's Cruiser doing?"

You take a sip of your drink and try not to cry. "Not good. The emergency vet came by and rushed him to surgery. Multiple broken bones they say, maybe some internal bleeding."

He sucks in a breath. "Oh y/n, I'm so sorry."

He opens his arms and you curl up against him gratefully. His letterman jacket is soft against your skin and the smell of him envelopes you.

"I still remember the day you got him for me," you say.

He rubs soothing circles across your back.

"He was such a runt back then. All eyes and big floppy ears. When you pulled him out of your jacket, I didn't realise he was a puppy. I thought you got me some weird stuffed teddy."

He laughs. "I tried putting a bow on him y'know. But he kept tryna bite my fingers off."

You laugh too. "I could never figure out why he didn't like you."

"Jealousy I say. Didn't want me to steal you away."

You punch his arm, smiling. "You're the only guy who'll compete with a dog for my attention."

"If that's what it takes. Put a leash on me right now if you want."

You scoff and curl up closer against him. "I would but they don't come in your size big guy."

You're too tired to notice the bruise on your best friend's nose, or the way he flinches when you touch his side. For a little while, you make the awful mistake of forgetting about the beast.

Prom comes faster then you expect. Your dress gets measured and tailored and steamed. You spend days practicing different hair styles. Cruiser limps around behind you, whining for treats like he wasn't touch and go just a month ago. The moon grows thin and then round again.

When you pull up at your best friend's house, his parents are on their way to a party of their own. His mother gives you a peck on the cheek and says you look stunning and to not forget the keys when you leave.

You laugh and wave them off and almost forget about the full moon streaming through the trees.

The house is quiet and you make your way to his room, your heels hanging from your fingers.

"Hey princess!" You knock on his door. "Are you ready yet? I'm coming in!"

You open the door to an empty room, his tux still on its hanger.

"Oh. My. God. How are you still not done?"

You can hear the shower running and you pound at the door. "We're gonna be late! I swear I'm going to kill you when you get out of there."

No response.

"Hey! I know you can hear me!"

Still nothing.

You try the handle and the door swings open a crack. Steam billows out and you slap a hand over your eyes before you can see anything too revealing.

"Hurry it up! We're gonna miss all the good songs if you don't get dressed soon. Do you really wanna slow dance to something Mr Jared the gym teacher picks out?"

You hear the slap of footsteps on wet tile and breath a sigh of relief. "Did all that football practice knock your ears outta wack? I've been yelling at you since I got here."

Something growls, low and deep.

Your eyes shoot open and you step back. But you're still too slow to react and the werewolf leaps at you. Its heavier than a man and you tumble to the floor together, its paws pinning you down by the shoulders.

Its snout is right in front of your face, almost touching your nose. Lips curl away from awfully long fangs.

It growls almost like a man, almost like it's saying, "Mine."

You scream, kicking and tossing and failing to get away. It's claws prick holes in the satin of your dress and draw little beads of blood.

You scream your best friend's name, terrified that the beast got him too. You're going to die, you think desperately, you're going to die and your poor mother won't even be able to refund your prom dress. If you weren't screaming, you might have laughed.

But the monster doesn't kill you.

Instead, it licks the tears off your cheek. Just like Cruiser did a month ago. It growls again, but the sound is lighter. Pleased almost.

You grow still, confused and terrified of provoking it. Your best friend's room is cluttered with football gear - trophies and jerseys and signed helmets. The moon shines dully off all of it. And you're in the very centre, with a monster pinning you to the ground.

The moon dips behind a cloud and the werewolf changes right before your eyes. Hair and snout receding, his eyes darkening from wolf amber to warm brown.

It's only his teeth that stay the same. All sharp points that peak through his lips.

Your best friend is on top of you, totally naked and still warm from the shower.

"I didn't want to hurt you y/n, I swear."

His voice is lower somehow, like the wolf's growl is just under the surface.

You're too shocked to move. Too shocked to scream. This must be a dream. It's too surreal to be real.

He leans down and kisses you on the cheek. "I wanted to tell you. But it would have sounded crazy. I grow claws and teeth on the full moon? I heal faster than I used to? I can smell when you're ovulating and when you're on your period?"

He pulls back and tilts his head. "When we were kids, we promised we wouldn't keep secrets. And now you know."

"You...you were outside my house that night."

He laughs. "I'm outside your house every night dummy. That was just the night you caught me."

"Why?"

He shakes his head the way he always does when you say something dumb. "To keep you safe. To keep other animals away from you. To protect you, like I said I would."

His hands slip from your shoulders to your waist. "But now you know."

He grins, his teeth awfully sharp. "Now I can make you just like me."

He holds you down and kisses you and nips at your neck hard enough to draw blood. And when the clouds clear from the moon, you feel your teeth start to lengthen.

Something is terrorising your town. And you should have know better than to cross its path.