#coyotes being a big one and wolves being close by

[ahedderick]

Cry wolf

A couple year ago my son was exploring a cave in a remote area of West Virgina and found, along a railway, some Very Big canine tracks. He was able to get a good clear photo of one, with his hand for scale, and was a little over four inches long without claws. It wouldn't have been impossible for a dog to be in that area, but it was quite far from the nearest houses and also very few dogs have paw that big. We all said "hmmm," and there the matter rested.

Coyote howling is very distinctive, quite high-pitched. I can't get close to the highest notes I hear when the coyotes on the mountain are crying. Twice now, recently, we have heard howling from the mountain that is much lower.

If you look up the range of gray wolves, the closest area would be in upstate New York, which is hundreds of miles from Maryland. However, the Appalachian mountains run in a broad, almost straight band right from here to New England. A critter that was avoiding humans and roads and traveling the wild areas of the mountain ridges would be led right here if it was moving north to south.

In my lifetime black bears, coyotes, porcupines, and fishers have returned to this area after being locally extinct for decades. There are a lot of rumors of mountain lions; although not many of them are credible, a few are. A lone wolf? Deciding to venture south and see the world a little? Is not beyond the bounds of possibility.

We will continue saying, "hmmm." And keep our eyes and ears open.

[legalownerofufoemoji]

Statement of Eric Seymour, regarding a “hostile forest” near his home. Statement recorded direct from subject, July 17th, 2018. Recording taken by Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

Right, so, from the beginning- its. It’s been about 2 years since the incidents so pardon my recollection. I can’t give you an exact date, but it was during some of the hottest days of summer. You know, the kinds of days where’s its so hot that you don’t really want to do anything but laze around the house? It was one of those days, and I was doing exactly that.

But close to my home, near a small trail into the woods, is a lovely collection of streams and rivulets which are absolutely delightful to dip your feet it. On top of that, the light being dappled through the leaves of the many flourishing trees cools it down significantly. If I had to give it a guess- I’d say it’s about 10 degrees cooler in the forest? Combine that with the boredom of sitting around all day, you can see why I decided to get dressed for the forest, grab my walking stick, and headed down to the cool woods.

It was around 2 in the afternoon once I got to the start of the trail. It curved down the steep, though manageable slope of the grass hill, leading down towards the shallow, rocky-shored creek that snaked through the forest. As I strolled down it, I sighed in thanks for the cool air that began to coat my skin and the slight wind that was channeled through the walls of the forest’s hills.

I continued this way for about- 5 minutes, I think. Just enjoying the cool air and taking a small hike. It’s not a big forest, I’ll be honest, just fills the space between my neighborhood, the next one over, and the highway off to the side. And that was when I saw it. There was a bend in the river I was walking by, and on the opposite bank there stood a tree. It was forked in the middle, 2 sturdy branches going about 30 degrees away from the main trunk in either direction. And there, sitting in the middle of the tree, was the head and spine of a deer. Just- suspended there, the antlers letting it stay just stable enough to poke through the fork of the tree. And it stared, right at me, pale bones sparsely covered in bits of meat and rotting flesh, the spine curling down around the tree like some sort of- demented snake!

It stared at me with the spaces that should have been eyes, but it seemed those had already rotted out, given the small pile of goo before the tree. I wasn’t as scared of it back then as I am now, mostly because I was just confused. As I said before, not a big forest. And while we did have woods, we didn’t have wolves or coyotes or any of that sort as far as I knew. And I didn’t think it could be a hunter either, because I’d heard no gunshots or reports of them in the past few weeks. And I knew it couldn’t be a naturally dead deer, because where was the rest of the body?

But the confusion was enough to make me want to leave, quickly. I already knew I was past the halfway point, and going backwards didn’t seem quite right. 

So I gathered myself, taking a few inhalations of the cool air, now tinged with the slight earthy odor of rotting flesh and mud. But as I was walking, I just had some sort of feeling. Like I wasn’t quite alone in the forest. I’d heard no sounds of footsteps, and I came with nobody- and at that moment a horrible feeling came over me. It was a deep, shuddering cold that started at my head and trailed down my spine- and given the already uncomfortable thought in my mind about spines, this feeling sent me into a panic. 

I began to quicken my pace, going from a slow walk, to a speed walk, and eventually a full on sprint. I needed to get out of this forest. Something about being alone here it just- it felt like the forest itself hated me being there, alone. I kept running as I saw- or, I think I saw- figures in the corners of my visons. Faces in trees, angry. Hands, reaching up from the rivulets and branches. The wind howling when it had been a mere breeze moments ago.

Before I knew it, I was out of the forest. The heat increased immediately, back to the oppressive heat. Yet it felt comforting compared to the bone chilling cold I had felt before. The feeling had vanished to, leaving me more confused than ever. I went directly home after that.

I’ve gone back to the forest a few times since then. The second time, I’d gone alone, 2 days later. I could barely take more than a minute’s walk inwards before the feeling of watching appeared, and practically forced me back out the way I came. The third time, it was about a week later, and I’d brought my mother with, as I assumed I’d just had some sort of odd anxiety attack with some lingering discomfort before. But when we entered this time- nothing. No bones, no smell, no feelings or faces. All gone. 

So I tried again a fourth time, assuming that after 3 weeks, the bones would have been removed by some passerby. I can’t confirm that, though. I managed to make it farther in this time. The bones were gone, definitely, but as I passed about a third of the way through, the terrifying force of someone watching me fell upon me even stronger than before. This time, I swear I could see something, right in front of me! Tall, green and brown skin, like a faerie of legend. And I ran. Again.

*Sound of strained groans*. I’ve decided not to go in those woods any more. Those last 3 encounters were the last straw for me, after a myriad other small, strange events. The watching sensation follows me though, whenever I enter another forest. Hm.. maybe watching isn’t the right word? If it were just watching, I wouldn’t be so afraid. It’s like the forest itself hated me. Hated me for daring to be there, alone, like I somehow owned it. Whenever I go into any other sort of nature alone, I still feel it, though thankfully not strongly enough to be chased out like a rabbit…

End of Statement.

Hmm... A hateful forest, huh? Well I suppose this is one of the more, tame statements I have read so far. I can't really say I believe this, though. I mean, the only proof is, well, nothing other than the words of a frightened man.

*Papers shuffle on the desk*

It sounds nothing more to me than a bout of paranoia, I suppose. Everyone has those now and then. Alone, in a forest, well I think anyone could feel watched. And- You know I believe I have read somewhere about... Excessive heat causing mild hallucinations... I suppose that's the answer then. Plain and simple.

Maybe, Eric should stay out of this, "hostile" forest. At least until it cools off... Only then would we truly know if, well. If this forest "hated" him or not.

Hm.

End of recording.

[ironwoodwolves]

🎵 Been thinking about my kintypes, especially in light of all the stuff going around about voluntary vs involuntary otherkin and therians. Yes, I do think if the identity is something you actively choose all the time, that's a linktype, not a kintype. And that's fine. Otherlinkers are valid and part of our alterhuman community. But if it's something you don't choose - especially if it's just there, ingrained into your identity - whether you originally chose it or not, that's a kintype.

I've been questioning my own kintypes a lot. I'm a Canadian timber wolf, an African golden wolf, a coastal gryphon, and a kiko kitsune. There are vastly varying levels of choice involved in this.

To start with the completely involuntary, kitsune. I'm not just a fox, I am genuinely of the mythical variety. My body type is a big factor here, in that I'm built more like the statues you see outside shrines and I have five tails. I get strong phantom shifts with all of my kintypes and can therefore describe them pretty well. This particular kintype is not just involuntary, but against my will. I don't want to be this. I do not want this. I'm working on accepting it - because it's not going anywhere and ignoring it doesn't work - but I do not want to be this. For a variety of reasons. But I'm stuck with it.

My wolves are... complicated. It took me over 10 years to work out what sort of wolf I was because I thought I was just one. But the weird combination of phantom shifts and exomemories kept me from figuring out which one and I eventually let go of that question until I became active in the community again. I've been questioning them since realizing I'm a system, though. We have a wolf extranth, a coyote extranth, and another wolf therian in the system. I've felt sort of disconnected from my lupine identity because of all that and because of the questioning about whether my wolf theriotypes are real or a result of my sysmates. The timber wolf, which is the largest subspecies of grey wolf, could conceivably be attributed to Seer, who is a fictional - and particularly large - species of grey wolf. Likewise, the golden wolf could be attributed to Coyote Kid, as I did kinsider coyote while trying to figure out my second theriotype. At the end of the day, though, I've been a wolf all my life and it’s the first identity I associated with nonhumanity and therianthropy. It's part of me and part of who I am, even if sometimes I question that.

My gryphon is no less complicated, but for different reasons. When I first awoke as a gryphon, I did not want to be one. I was a wolf and had identified as a wolf therian for several years. And back then polykin were met with intense skepticism and the therian and otherkin communities were fairly separate. You were one or the other, you were not both. And my gryphon definitely fits more into otherkin. Even theriomythic doesn't work, as we weren't feral. But over time I got more comfortable with my gryphon and with being polykin and being both therian and otherkin, though I always (and still do, to an extent) considered myself a therian first. Lately, though, with how much I've been questioning my wolf theriotypes, I've kind of clung to my gryphon. No one else in here is a gryphon or even anything close to one. I've always been a wolf first and a gryphon second, including in internal sense of self, but with everything going on... I appear as a gryphon in headspace. I have a lot of really strong gryphon shifts, too. And I've kind of come to think of myself as a gryphon first and a wolf second. I didn't choose this identity, but I think that both consciously and unconscious I've chosen to make it my primary nonhuman identity.

[violetsrotting]

I never had curtains on my windows, even as a child. We lived in the country, and there was no need for them really. The only things to see through them were between me, my family, and God. The neighbors were too far away to be peeking through, down the road and enclosed in trees, secluded in their own slice of the countryside. As an adult now, I never knew it was something “odd” until I mentioned it to a coworker.

“Doesn’t that scare you? To look out of them at night?” she asked.

But I couldn’t really recall a desire to do such a thing. When it was a cloudy night, the only light came from the yard light in the front. The back rooms featured nothing but views of darkness, except for when the moon was full and you could see deer grazing in the fields. Or, in winter, the illumination of the snow, soft white drifts coating the ground. Still and dead. Sleep came easy when surrounded by the quiet ambience of winter.

“No,” I answered, “It doesn’t scare me at all.”

People talked online about the strange things outside at night, especially in the woods or mountains. Things with too many teeth, paws that seem too human, and glowing eyes that know too much, calling out to the trees, begging you to step outside for just a moment. Just a second. Just come and see.

This was Iowa though. There were no big cats, no wolves, and no bears. I’ve never heard anyone mention any strange animal outside at night, though maybe I didn’t talk to enough hunters . There was nothing but cornfields, deer, and slinky coyotes hunting for cats.

But I was intrigued by the thought, which seemed ridiculous to me. Scared? Of looking outside at night?

So I tried it one night during the full moon. Having just gotten back from a horrifically tiring workday, I stumbled through the empty house to the dining room, the farthest away from the illumination of the yard light. It looked out over the fields, marked by the forest on the horizon. They had harvested already, and the ground was clear and flat with only the round bales dotting the landscape.

Something huge and black crossed the barren plain. It was moving fast, as if being chased, or maybe it was the predator. When it came right into the middle of my field of vision, it stopped. It rose slightly in the moonlight, its figure becoming increasingly tall and lithe.

I leaned forward, squinting against the darkness and touching the cool glass with my fingertips. Its eyes were mere hovering yellow spots, steady and bright, looking straight into mine. It knew I was there, somehow, several yards away in the pitch black of that room.

Blinking rapidly, when I focused back on the creature, it scurried off somewhere. The fields were wide spans of open land, and I couldn’t understand where it had gone. From an open window I’d forgotten to close, a cold breeze chilled me, but on the wind, something screamed. It was a gripping and raspy noise, but God knows there were no mountain lions in the area. My neighbors were miles away down the road. I closed the window, and hurried upstairs into my bed. That night, the chill of my room did not soothe me while I sweated under my sheets.

[chaoticgremlinbrainspace]

ive got little to no biology knowledge all I have is the deep obsession with the wild kratts and nature documentaries to propel my rotation on the thoughts of pokemon breeding and how different it would look as people and pokemon were not as close in whatever time period PLA is in like much like how dogs and people have changed with their partner ship surely the same has happened to pokemon? like selecting for certain disarmed traits and maybe even how pokemon breed and stuff? not to mention the impact of the growth go the human population had on pokemon populations and behaviors, along with extinctions of certain variations due to like exposure to new pokemon (I am thinking of the rifts) and people bringing over pokemon and maybe even reckless reassessing of caught pokemon into a new ecosystem. and like the breeding itself do different pokemon have different egg laying rates? or is it a new development that was recently bred for to have one big egg, it could be like the one survival strategy of making a bunch of lil guys and then leaving them to fend for themselves or it could be more like the parental approach having a litter and raising the lil guys until they are able to survive. like I dunno its just fun to rotate the idea that people bred pokemon to only produce one lil guy over time and maybe further along in Development because of the bigger size. I also just think it would be hilarious if people breeding pokemon accidentally fucked up the egg groups even worse than before lmao. maybe with time will and bred pokemon have bred much like the thing I. heard about wolves and coyotes and dogs having so much interbreeding theres not really a true coyote anymore. it could like that so much interbreeding between wild and bred pokemon making it so the population of truly wild pokemon is minuscule especially in areas near or around cities and such. I also think it would be neat if maybe wild pokemon were different looking not by a lot especially with the about of inter breeding but like you could tell if some one caught a pokemon or if someone had it from an egg they got at a breeder. maybe wild pokemon are bigger and domesticated pokemon are smaller than theyre wild counterparts due to living indside homes and thus the smaller pokemon were favored over time. kinda like how if you stick a dog and a wolf side by side you can see the difference in appearance. I also think that the wild pokemon who live in cities are much more open to human intervention when they need it, maybe like if they need help with their eggs, I like to think wild pokemon have been affected by domestic pokemon population gene pool wise by decreasing the amount of eggs they produce to a handful with the number varying with egg groups. but yeah I think that theyre more chill with people taking their eggs in the sense theyre aware that having a trainer is a pretty sweet deal for lil guys because the chances of them being eaten goes wayyyyyyyy down. and like not all of the are chill of course people still as a rile try to avoid taking random eggs out of random pokemon nests thats just a great way to get jumped by a really angry mon. I do think that the interbreeding is the reasons the modern pokemon world stopped seeing alphas after a while lmao. im referencing a lot from dogs because I was and still a a big dog fan. and its aloe the thing im the most casually aware of. I do think that theres probably a pokemon breed golden standard and then theirs lil guys who look a lil funky(I really like pokemon hybrids and pokemon based off of real phenomena in the natural world jsfbiadnlkvsbjk) I like to think that theres an entire breeding scene for pokemon contests and such maybe even a dog show type thing where people show off how well bred theyre pokemon are. I do think theres also different levels of breeders, the professionals are the ones who own or work at daycares usually but also work independently to offer up pokemon partners or show Pokémon.

[monmuses]

with various kinds of demons and devils, i wanna cover what kind of powers that the children of Satan would have. all of them would have unique powers depending on how old they are and how experienced they are

Jilaiyah is the daughter of a known powerful witch and is one of the older children. with her, she has powers based on mind control and based around having a hivemind. her blood has a rich potency to humans and other mortal creatures, being able to seduce them into her bidding via weakening their mental and psychological strength (much like Lady Tamayo's Demon Blood Art, but with more of a drunken effect that lasts much longer). much of her powers relate to blood; she has a power with Blood Magic and Blood Manipulation.

like many witches, she has abilities to cast curses and blessings. she has her own spellbook and is able to recite her own spells via memory and create her own spells on command. on top of this, she has more control over reptilia animals and has a recurring theme around snakes and lizards.

Damien is born of a mortal mother, which has him only being half-immortal, but is able to conduct similar powers like the Devil Himself. he has most general powers, such as like general manipulation of physiology of inanimate objects and living beings, fire manipulation, etc. he has powers to open portals and ability to teleport and fly! shapeshifting is an easy power of his as well, and can mimic his father's form pretty closely, but is more like Akira's from Devilman Crybaby.

he has closer relations to various canidae animals, like wolves, domesticated dogs, coyotes, foxes, etc. he has more control and influence among those animals.

Isaac on the other hand is one of the middle children of Satan's flock, and has more unique powers that are not akin to the common demon. with being related to Lucius, he has more familiarity in the Dark Arts & Necromancy. his powers relate to the human psyche and has a lot of skill in madness and driving humans insane to weaken them under his control. aside from being able to manipulate darkness and summon the dead, he has more powers that are closely related to Lucius's abilities.

he has closer relations to to felidae animals, like domesticated cats, tigers, cheetahs, and other types of Big & Small Cats.

[lultimagoccia]

@crvptd is calling, pick up phone!

she was pretty sure the wolves and coyotes didn't venture this close to town. which was why, when she heard a very distinct howl, creecher popped her head out of her dumpster, squinting as she watched a rather large wolf bound away from the pizzeria. ...what the fuck? " oi!! " look - she loved her wolf friends, but if this one was sniffing around pepp's place and causing trouble, she needed to have words with them. the little cryptid slunk from her home and scrabbled off into the night in hot pursuit of the larger beast.

the beast's mind raced, wild instincts and peppino's subconscious conflicting with each other as the wolf attempted to make sense of their own existence. the ache of transformation still lingered, newly enhanced senses taking in a plethora of information that he simply could not comprehend. he didn't know where he was going, and where here even was to begin with!

he just knew he was hurting. and he was hungry. he could hear many sounds of so many other beings out in the dark ... including the sound of footsteps that followed behind his own. the creature rounded, skidding to a stop as its attention turned to its would - be pursuer.

peppino was a big guy as it was, so this thing he'd been turned into was massive, all dark fur marred by a patchwork of old scars pepp had incurred over the years. the tattered remains of his outfit still clung in a few places, including his signature white tank top. and, perhaps even more tellingly, once their gaze was upon her, the scar that marked pepp's face was much easier to see, though its left eye socket was empty ( oh, pepp would not be happy he'd lost the prosthetic eye again ... that thing was such a pain to replace ).

lips curled and he snarled defensively, large body poised defensively against her approach. he was terrified right now, but he'd fight if he had to.

[acy-onyx]

Whatchu know about horses? Wha happened yo the one that used be native to the Americas?

okay sure. I took an edible like 10 minutes ago tho so let's see if I can finish typing this out before it hits [editor's note: his ass could not]

the equus genus (horses, donkeys, zebras) originally evolved in north america and spread to eurasia later. the whole genus went extinct in the americas ~~12,000 years ago, which happens to coincide with the arrival of humans. if people were the cause of horses going extinct in the americas, then why didn't that happen in eurasia? the theory is that being domesticated saved them.

but! horses were domesticated ~~6000 years ago somewhere in central eurasia. people have been in that area much longer than 12,000 years, and that would mean horses still lasted 6,000 years longer in eurasia than the americas despite that.

supposedly, eurasia could have had many more favorable horse habitats than the americas did, so there were just more horses around to survive longer. we just don't know for sure yet

because like, there is no true wild counterpart to the domestic horse still alive today. ya know how like how dogs were domesticated from wolves and wolves are still around? the only wild horse species left isn't the same species that our horses were domesticated from. it's like having dogs and the next best thing in the wild are coyotes. still very closely related, and can sometimes mate and have fertle pups, but humans didn't get dogs from coyotes.

but eventually, people started putting horses in pens and breeding them instead of ya know. hunting and eating them. then suddenly horses become a big part of farming, transportation, and warfare everywhere where people can get their hands on them. yay for horses! one of the few of a shrinking list of megafauna to persist through humans shenanigans

but then here come the europeans to the americas and all the horrible, horrible things they brought with them. the death, the disease, the suffering, oh god the suffering. plus, pretty inline with the europeans themselves, a whole bunch of invasive species.

the thing is, humans love to bring their domesticated animals with them when they move. (I mean why not? our ancestors spent generations specially crafting this beast's genome to better suit it to being around humans and, well, you are a human after all)

so, as always, captive animals escape and start to establish feral populations in the wild. oops. but wait, what if it's okay? wild horses used to be here, so what's wrong with horses in the wild?

(feral =/= wild. wild means it's an animal that has not been genetically altered through selective breeding by humans. individual wild animals can be tamed, but not domesticated. feral means a domestic animal that is not tame. they still have the DNA of a domesticated animal)

yet funnily enough, feral horses in north america have a much less negative ecological impact than they do in australia, where there have never been wild horses. so go figure

[vixen525]

You know what? I'm just gonna share random rumors (both ones that can be proven and ones that can't) right here on tumblr.

1) A few years ago a black bear broke into a church just up the road and had to be relocated. Eventually got on the news but at first when people first started discussing it on local chats, it was treated as a rumor. People were in the building at the time and even got pictures of the bear walking in. Bear is fine thankfully.

2) Despite it being said that wolves are currently extirpated in this region of the United States, credible sources have seen and identified them ridiculously close to big cities. And no, they were not mistaking coyotes for wolves. 100% sure of this. Also if anyone says mountain lions aren't here any more they are very very wrong.

3) Multiple trustworthy sources have shared a story about the late 60s early 70s when there was a huge ordeal over police chatter about a UFO that was super low flying. There's online articles about eyewitness testimonies of the occurrence and people looking for explanations.

[icarusredwings]

The Night is young. The moon isn't out. The depth in which the stars cover is barren, leaving the sky bare of any light at all.

The porch light to your house is on. Just a small home on the brink of the city.

Ever since the outbreak, you didn't trust going into town. Besides, Things were quieter out here. You liked the silence And preferred the natural white noise over any automatics that might try to sway your persuasions.

The crickets chirp, Owls hoot, mice squeak, the deer make small crunching noises somewhere distant from your land. you actually bought this place because of the dense forest around it. It was nice. To have somewhere so enclosed and hidden.

The rain drops drip into a pan left out for the stray dog that's been spotted in the area, a gentle breeze blowing in your hair, the echoing clipping and clopping of a horse somewhere further down the road.

A frog croaks, the cicadas buzz, the morning doves do not sing. No one sings anymore.

Your nose crinkles as the porch board creeks from the weight of your feet. You're bare food out here. but not alone. Turning, Your partner tugs at part of your shirt. You give them a smile as you use your lips to gesture towards a pile of wood that was stacked nicely against the house.

A light comes around the bend of the road, a low grumble of an engine, the sound of tires against gravel. You quickly push yourself against the siding, Hand arm over your partner's abdomen and hand over their mouth as you hold your breath. Your eyes are wide, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, your mouth becoming dry.

Slowly it passes, coming to a small halt at the front of the home, only to roll off at the howl of a coyote, rushing off to find the producer of the noise.

You peek your head around the corner, letting your shoulders relax and let out a quiet sigh.

“That was a close call” Your partner whispers, only for you to shoot them a glare And a motion of hushing their mouth.

They roll their eyes. “I still don't see why we were hiding anyway. What are they going to do? I mean, seriously.”

You grit your teeth, keeping in a huff of frustration, Whispering back. “You know how dangerous it is to be out here at night?”

“Come on, you don't believe all that do you? It's probably just wolves.” They say, stepping towards the wood as they gathered a few pieces in their arms. You follow, being sure your steps are as silent as possible.

“I don't know, They said they have teeth the size of an arm”

“Ha! Teeth!? Really?” They laugh

“Shhh!!” You scold them, putting a hand over their mouth as you hear another muffled growl.

You again hold your breath, stopping, staying as still as possible.

A small ruffle of bushes and leaves turns out to be nothing more than a rabbit, who is quick To run away.

“Ha!! You're scared of a rabbit? Man, those stories are going to your hea-”

There was a grumble, a continuous growl.

“Did you hear that?”

Tons of leaves, and even larger sticks snapping from the weight as it prowled closer and closer. The ground shook. The air heated from what sounded like the huffy breaths of something otherworldly.

Swallowing, You stay still, not moving an inch, barely breathing and once again your heart is in your ears instead of where it belonged in your ribcage.

Hesitantly, your partner reaches for their waist. You glance at them, your grip, nails tightening into their sleeve, warning them not to do it.

A gravely, raspy snarl comes from the forest.

Your partner shakes off your arm, adrenaline pumping as they stare into the dark empty ibis, only a pathetic 20 feet in front of them.

They click on the flashlight.

Stalling there is the most dangerous of all of the possible beasts.

Its large eyes flashing a reflective yellow, its large black treads dug into the dirt, and bite as big as the traveler's stories said..

A 2016 Ford F-150

Hey now, hey now, don't dream it’s over

Your heart isn't in your chest anymore.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

An Offer

Warnings: coercion, threats, slightly blackmail-ish, intimidation, entrapment, implied noncon

This is dark!(lumberjack/nomad) Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

Based on this drabble request:

Nomad Steve Rogers + “You'll never find anyone better than me.” + Lumberjack AU + Smashed and broken dreams of a good career forces reader back home. With a degree in her hand but no real chance of finding a good job reader has to accept any job she finds and Steve isn’t making it easy cause he wants her so he sabotages any job opportunity to make her depended on him. This really hits home 😭. Sorry 😭.

When you sat in your college lectures, you never expected to end up there. Never expected to be carrying armfuls of wood to a large stack, splinters catching in your gloves as each piece clacked between the noise of the logs being split. You didn’t expect to be working for pennies, busting your ass for hours, just to pay for the room above the liquor store in your hometown.

You didn’t expect any of it. It was a surreal nightmare. It was as if that purgatory could never let you go. The small town’s always claimed what was theirs. Blood grown of that soil could not venture far before the roots dragged them back, a constricting coil around the throat.

Another log split, almost exploding as the two halves fell on either side of the stump. Steve took one and chopped it again, then the other. Perfect quarters for you to pile in your arms and add to the mounting stack. Your sweat soaked the flannel coat, the same kind your father wore when you were a child, the same that everyone in town seemed to have somewhere in their closets.

Steve rested the head of the axe on the stump and leaned on it as he watched you.

“Think that’ll do,” he said as you heard him scratch his beard, “supposed to be a mild winter.”

“Mild? Around here? You know that just means the snow stops at the knee, right?”

You carried the last of the wood to the pile and laid it out in the niches perfectly. It was like a Tetris game, every piece had its place. You clapped off your gloves and looked back at Steve as he shook out his jacket and pulled it back on. Even as his work left him sweaty, you didn’t know how he could stand to take it off and bear the bitter winds in only a tee.

“My knees are higher than yours,” he said, “think I’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh,” you put your hands on your hips and looked out at the trees, the sun setting behind them in an amber haze.

“Hey,” he interrupted your sightseeing, “how about you stay for dinner? I finally tried that chili recipe…”

“You? Cooking?” you shook your head, “so that’s why I’m out here lugging wood.”

“Is that yes?”

“Do you have pepto?” you joked, “sure, guess I could. Save me the trouble of opening a can at home.”

You followed him inside as he held the door for you. You shoved your gloves in your flannel pocket and hung it as you wiggled out of your boots. Usually you tidied and did the household chores as Steve worked outside. It wasn’t much of a job but there was nothing to be had in the lifeless town. Still, even with the work you found in the city, you couldn’t afford even a closet to live in.

The house was nice, big. The country land was cheap and as Steve told it, he built the entire thing himself. It was a wooden castle with better amenities than most of the antique houses in town. He bragged about how he chose every countertop and cut down every leg of every chair and sanded and polished the thick table over a willowy fall.

But you wondered how he ended up there. He wasn’t from the town and his accent was not of the nearby metropolis. He must be from far away. You could see it was an escape from the life he didn’t talk about.

You sat at the table as he clinked around in the kitchen. He came out with two red bowls and set one before you as he sat at the corner near you. He handed you a spoon with a wooden handle and you twirled it as you watched the chili steam.

“Did you make these too?” you asked.

“Ha,” he said dryly and stirred his bowl.

“Well…” you shrugged and looked around.

He smiled at you and leaned his head back until his neck cracked. He let his spoon rest and rubbed his jaw. It twitched and he looked out the big bay windows of the dining room, the ridged bark and overgrown grass staring back.

“I…” he shifted and leaned on the arm of the chair, “I slipped your pay in your jacket.”

“Oh, thanks,” you were embarrassed to talk about money. He knew how little you made even if he did pay you generously for the work you did.

“But… I did want to talk about it, er, about…” he sighed and rested his chin in his hand as he traced his lower lip in thought. He sat up and cleared his throat, “we get along, don’t we?”

“Sure,” you blew on a spoonful and tasted the chili. It was spicy but not bad.

“I know how hard it’s been, Maggie, Lester, Jeff… tough break.”

You swallowed and sat back. You frowned. “How did you…” your resume had been turned down by almost every business owner and manager in town.

“It’s a small place, like that box you’re living in.”

“Steve--”

“I’m not saying it to embarrass you but… because I… want to…” he gripped his spoon, thought about having a bite, then let it go again, “I want to make you an offer.”

“You pay me more than you should for doing your chores,” you left your spoon in the bowl and ran your nails up and down your jeans, picking at the little metal snap by the pocket.

“That’s not--” he squared his shoulders and all humour left his face. He bit down and the vein in his head surged, “you could live here. The place is more than big enough… lonely.”

“I can’t--”

“Please, just listen,” he raised his palms, “I’m lonely and you’re in a bind. We could help each other.”

You squinted and shook your head. He took a breath and leaned forward. He reached under the table and touched your knee. He slid his hand up your thigh until it met yours and you stopped him.

“What--”

“You don’t even have to keep on cleaning or any of that,” he said quietly, “just be mine. You’ll be comfortable here. All you have to do is… be here… with me.”

“Steve,” you held onto his thick fingers, “maybe you don’t mean it that way but I’m not… not a prostitute.”

“It wouldn’t be that,” his throat constricted, “it would be convenient; practical.”

“I should go,” you shoved his hand off of you and stood, “you did a good job with the chili.”

The chair scraped behind you as you stepped out from between it and the table. Steve was fast and caught your shoulder before you could evade him.

“Go where? Do what exactly?” his voice was stern and stolid, “huh? No one in town’s gonna hire you, we both know that. And you can’t make it in the city.”

“That’s mean, Steve, I want to go,” you pouted, “let me go.”

“Why can’t you see I’m helping you?”

“You have helped me but what you’re… offering is insulting, don’t you understand?”

“It’s generous is what I’d say,” he grabbed your other arm and pulled you close as he snarled down at you, “I can give you everything you need and want, all you have to do is give me…” his eyes crawled down your body, “a little sweetness.”

“Steve--”

“You’re proud, I get it, you don’t want to admit you have no choice but what happens when Fletcher needs that room for storage or he rents it out to a higher bidder? Where do you go then? Huh, you keep handing out that resume and what has that degree got you but sorrys and no thank yous?”

“Get off--” you pushed on his chest as he squeezed your arms painfully.

“Let me tell you I will be the only yes you ever get,” he growled, “I made sure of it.”

“Wha-- I--”

“I’m not driving you back to town,” he released you, “so if you really wanna go, if your pride is worth all that, you can walk and see if you beat the wolves. Or you can stay and earn that extra bill I put in your pocket.”

“Steve, what the hell?”

“Your call,” his fingers stretched around the waist of his jeans as he flexed his chest, “reception’s shit so good luck getting a ride.”

“You can’t--”

“Let me make this easy for you. Walk and see if you make it home, stay and you’re already home.”

You searched his face. You’d never seen this side of him. You blinked and spun on your heel. Fuck him. You’d drive yourself and he could tell the police you stole his truck. You ran to the front door and snatched his keys from the hook. You bent to grab your boots but his hand on the back of your neck stopped you. 

He wrenched you back and tossed you against the wall. The keys tumbled to the floor and he kicked them away, “no cheating,” he said, “you wanna go then?”

Before you could answer the high whine of a coyote cut through the air and the glass slats of the front door dimmed. You faced him and your heart beat wildly.

“Why?”

“You going?” he asked again.

“Steve--”

“Well?”

“You can’t do this,” you pleaded, “keep your money then. Just take me home.”

“No,” he marched towards you and pinned you by your neck against the wall. His hand threatened to stifle your breath as he leaned in, “go or stay?”

You batted away tears with your lashes. You turned your head as far as you could whimpered as the sky continued to darken through the marbled glass, “Steve.”

“Go or stay?” he rasped as his breath tickled your cheek.

You trembled and touched his wrist. He squeezed just a little and you gasped, “and if I get lost? If I die out there?”

His lips curved and he chuckled lightly, “you willing to take that risk?”

You watched him, looking for any crack in his veneer, looking for an ounce of the man who’d been your godsend in that desolate town. He wasn’t there. It had all been an act, a trick. He had you in his snare like any good hunter.

“What choice do I have?” you whispered.

He pressed his forehead to yours and his large nose brushed against the tip of yours, “I’m not that bad,” his other hand crept along your stomach, “you’ll see that,” he played with the ribbed cotton, “you'll never find anyone better than me.”

🪓🪓🪓

Please reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed. Thank you 💕

[pa-pa-plasma]

#if they were gendered of the same species then their kids should have gendered coloring #but theyre implied to be different species by the black and white kids #which means #why is toothless attracted to her #theyre different species #i dont feel like he should be #ligers and zorses exist i know but thise asually forcibly bred #even being named nightlights follows the mixed species trend #which doesnt make sense cus the stupid tv show implied those kids were fertile and made their own inbred little species

this isn't the only comment like this i've seen so i'm just gonna address it in a reblog. addressing some things real quick first:

big cats are not forced to hybridize. it happens by accident sometimes

hybridization does not always cause infertility. the number of chromosomes being different per parent is usually the cause

the number of chromosomes are different because they are more distantly related. closely related species like coyotes & wolves (or crows & ravens in one case) can produce fertile offspring.

usually, crossbreeding in the wild is done when there's literally no one else around (or when one species thinks the other is hot as fuck). they just wanna have a partner basically. wolves being hunted to near extinction basically made them see coyotes as possible mate choices when there was no one else available.

like coyotes & wolves, night & light furies probably diverged into different species relatively recently (wolves & coyotes did it around 55,000–117,000 years ago according to wikipedia), making it possible for them to make fertile nightlights. it may have even happened before, we just haven't seen nightlights before because. well. the story aint about them.

the problem is that in order for there to be nightlights in the modern day (like 2-3,000 years later i think??) they would have had to breed with each other. & we don't see any other night or light or nightlight furies (none that i know for certain are unrelated at least). so. uh. yeah. incest.

they're most likely a different species, but from the same genus & closely related enough to crossbreed. Toothless & the light fury got together for similar reasons as coyotes & wolves--nearly hunted to extinction. there's just not enough of them for it to be sustainable, unless nightlights have the ability to asexually reproduce like some species of lizard do, or they somehow miraculously kept finding more unrelated furies to mate with.

so yeah, the problem isn't "can they even hybridize," it's "can a species that suffered such an intense bottleneck realistically survive for thousands of years?"

yes the light fury is not a 'girl night fury' it is a species closely related to the night fury but its own separate thing however that does not change the fact that the designers constructed her (and subsequently her entire species) to be a female counterpart to toothless and so instead of spiky dark and scaly shes pale smooth and glittery and finned and she has petite little feet and long legs and long slender neck and pink eyeshadow and more cat coded while they increasingly dogcoded toothless because hes a boy I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU what was that lol. well anyway

[blackbackedjackal]

That “domesticated coyotes” anon has been bouncing around in my head all day. One thing people forget is there are specific requirements that need to be met for domestication and, if I remember correctly, we can meet those for very few animals. It’s why we’d never be able to ACTUALLY domestic moose, there’s no way we could provide the amount of food for them.

It also ties into the exotic pet trade industry as well. What a lot of people don’t realize is the exotic pet trade is that they don’t prevent animals from going to into extinction. From what I’ve seen cheetahs are struggling massively because people in these businesses yank them from the wild, some dumbass who doesn’t realize what all goes into taking care of a wild animal like that buys it, maybe even declaws it, then dumps it at an already max capacity sanctuary because they realize how much it costs to own one. Insects are another creature that are quickly losing numbers because of the pet trade and it’s sad no one talks about it.

I’m so sorry for this massive ramble, but it’s something I get overly passionate about and it’s upsetting that people don’t realize that these animals rarely survive when rereleased into the wild and it’s stuff that feels like isn’t talked about enough. People just need to realize some things just aren’t meant to be.

I agree! There's no reason or benefit for humans to domesticate coyotes when we already have dog breeds that can do most of what coyotes can (and often better then they can in some aspects). Why don't we domesticate coyotes like we did with dogs? It's because they're two completely different species. The process of domesticating them wouldn't be the same as with dogs to begin with, and no one here has another 40,000+ years to figure that out. There's also research being done that the original lineages of canines that lead to the modern domestic dogs aren't the same as modern gray wolves. So we may have domesticated an entirely different wolf species that was closely related to what become modern gray wolves, but were much more susceptible to the domestication process then other canids. If the species had to be THAT specific, then what makes anyone logically think coyotes (that diverged from a different wolf-like canid nearly 2 million years ago) can all of a sudden be domesticated via isolated incidents of animal abuse over a few generations?

Insect, bird, amphibian, and reptile populations are suffering from the exotic pet trade so severely! Many are just plucked straight out of the wild and then sold to the person with the most money and the least amount of resources to care for those animals. It ruins those local ecosystems, decimates those wild populations, and most don't even make it to a buyer because they end up dying due to stress or neglect before even being sold. It's a big issue that really needs to be discussed more. But fools on social media don't want the facts. They just want bite-sized consumable abusive animal content without having to feel guilty, or worse, want to exploit an exotic animal for clout and narcissistic purposes.

It's all good, I definitely understand your passion and frustration. It's a very irritating seeing people so ready to defend thinly veiled animal abuse and deny the facts.

[skeletal-kitt]

Here have some random favorite head cannons for Nico that I don’t see very often (some of these might just be me projecting onto them but idc)

He struggles with insomnia, mainly because he doesn’t want to have nightmares and waking dreams/flashback of Tartarus, also because his spine and shoulders are little crooked it can be hard to get into a comfortable position to fall asleep in (the last part is definitely me projecting)

Nico is fine with being the little spoon while he’s awake but the only time he fell asleep as little spoon he had a nightmare and woke up to something or someone pinning him down and breathing down his neck so he assumed the worst and lashed out in self defense almost accidentally hurt Will. Nico refuses to sleep as the little spoon ever since and always rolls over to face Will so when he wakes up he can see it’s someone he trusts laying next to him.

When he’s not having nightmares it’s weird and obscure dreams that make no sense and he doesn’t remember them an hour after he wakes up.

He sleep talks during those dreams and says a lot of random stuff. Sometimes Will has weird conversations with half asleep Nico.

Nico sleep talking: Mom? Mom where are you?

Will: babe who are you talking to?

Nico: mom. Where is she?

Will: who? Your mom?????

Nico: yeah where’d she go?

Will: .........🥺angel I don’t know how to tell you this-

Nico: 😂BAHAHAHAHAHA *😂busted out laughing for no reason*

Will: *taken aback and confused* 😟w-what......Nico what are you laughing about???

Nico: *still gleeful*😂 she’s been dead for eighty years!!!!😂 *wheeze*😂I don’t need her anymore I take care of myself now��!!!lmaooo love ya mom🖤rest in piece🪦

Will: *very concerned* 😦.......am I dating a psychopath???

Nico: *doesnt answer, falls into deeper sleep and starts snoring*

Hades somehow saved a few things from Maria’s old apartment, Nico and Biancas childhood teddy bears, a few more of their toys, family photos, Maria’s jewelry,

The skull ring Nico wears all the time used to belong to Maria. Hades gave it to her as a courting gift. When she died Hades held on to it until Bianca was out of the Lotus Hotel and he intentionally put the ring in her path where she would find it. When Bianca died she met her father and told him to give the ring to Nico.

He hates lightning and thunder because of what happens to his mom and the whole big three rivalry doesn’t help. He doesn’t like rain either but it’s not as bad as lightning. Absolutely loathes storms like tornados and hurricanes and natural disasters like tsunamis and earthquakes if they’re caused by Poseidon and hates electricity bad weather in general.

Nico is like the supernatural beacon of camp. Whenever someone has a supernatural problem like they were playing with a ouija board and accidentally summoned a demon or something like that they go to Nico for help. Even if he doesn’t have control over demonic entities he probably knows someone who does or knows how to get rid of it and close the portal.

this kid speaks or at least understands like 10 languages, and has a vague understanding of most Romance languages. There are the obvious: English, Greek, Latin, Italian/old school Venetian from the time period he grew up in. And things he was probably learning in school in Mussolini Italy in the 20s/30s: German and French.

Nico is frenemies with Sherman Yang, no I will not electorate on this, just think about they’re dynamic in The Hidden Oracle, it makes perfect sense. Nico shadow travels into Sherman’s chariot he was flying and beat the crap out of him and threw him overboard just to steal the chariot to help Apollo. Sherman claims he’s going to kill Nico but decides not to at the end of the battle.

He still has his old aviator jacket that Lycaon tore to shreds, he doesn’t wear it but he’s so attached to it he can’t throw it away

In The Demigod Files: The Sword of Hades Nico said he was just in a cemetery in New Orleans, I think he was hanging out with Anubis

This next one is random but here

Roman demigods are raised by wolves, Egyptian magicians are raised by wild cats, Greek demigods are raised by coyotes,(except for the underworld kids, they send their children off the to be raised by jackals), and Norse demigods aren’t raised at all, it’s every Norse demigod for themselves until they die and be sorted into the afterlife

That all I have for now folks, I’m gonna try to get some sleep now