#dire wolfsbane

[skelesune-kitston]

Amber's Introduction! + DTIYS!

Refs!

Facts!

-Foxgender

-Aged 27 when not regressed

-A self-insert

-Age regressor, regresses to 1-9

-Lives in Foresttale (Magicverse's Haventale)

-Uses They/Them ONLY

-Has an older brother named Dire Wolfsbane

-An Outcode from Underhunt (an AU where Monsters are animals in forests that get hunted by humans)

-Based on Kitsunes from Japanese folklore

-Autistic

-Has ghost magic due to their SOUL

-Mute, fully mute, they were born like this, they use sign language or their little ghosties to talk to others

-Is 4'6 (average Skelesune/Kitston height)

SOUL!

SOUL of PASSION: People w/ this SOUL rely heavily on relationships, they are very passionate about bonding with others and passionate about magic and the dead, mainly helping lost SOULs finding a reaper to bring them to peace, their SOULs come from the SOULs of FEAR (From Bettie Noirs) and HOPE (From Deities of Life), the FEAR part is why they care about death, the HOPE part is why they care about relationships

Stats!

HP: 50

DEF: 5

AT: 2

Relationship Chart!

Dire Wolfsbane: Older brother - Good relationship

Fresh "Sans": Boyfriend - Wonderful relationship

Yusebi & Medi: Saviors - Follower relationship

Humans: Hunters - Horrible relationship

More to be added...

Credits!

OC Ref Template: twinskitty on DeviantArt

Detailed Skeleton Base: BushBabyOrigins on MediBang

Chibi Ecto Base: KurilianCharlie on DeviantArt

DTIYS!

There's no limit! And no prizes! This is just a silly prompt for anyone interested!

Tag me in the post if you draw this!

Amber & Fresh kissing, cuddling or doing something romantic, hell even a family photo w/ ship kids or a wedding pic is fine!

[petrova121]

Leave your worries at the door….please and thank you!

“Be careful”

-Part 1 -Part 2

TW-violence, threats, smut, fights, blood,etc

Song-Back to black by Amy Winehouse

Enemies to lovers

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

- Klaus needs help getting a witch on his side for the purpose of wolfsbane, which was running low. The best idea coming into mind bringing along Elijah as ... .a form of reinforcement.but things do always take there turns

-Hey guys just a btw I’m still new to all this stuff so bear with me!

At least to say she did not sleep well that night, the rain was pounding. Her dressing room walls for a matter of fact weren’t helping. The cheap wooden material the walls were made out of was sure to break sooner or later, she was sure of it. “God damn Mikaelsons” she muttered tired and her eyes fell into a dump slumber.

In the little makeshift club, Klaus played poker with the owner, his old friend Smith. Smith had known Klaus back in the late 30s, after Klaus had turned him, taking pity on the old man in the state he was in. “So back to cause trouble eh?”Smith said putting down his cards to show a full house a full house. Klaus laughed a little, “No, no ... .well maybe but I’ll be forward with you, I am in dire need of more information about your little witch sensation Y/n” Klaus said still acting to consider putting his cards down. Smith smirked, he was sure he had won the game when he saw Klaus hesitate, he did win, Klaus had two cards and lost.

“Well, what about her? She's a show-stopping natural who gets my money flowing in” Smith said shrugging and glancing over to Elijah who was watching the storm outside from the small window but still intently listening.

“How did she end up working here? To what degree is her power as a witch? Most importantly how are we to trust she has a good flow ... .of wolfsbane” Elijah said his voice carrying out through the dimly lit room. Smith scoffed, in his mind, Y/n was nothing more than a girl who had a few connections and could do a couple of tricks with her magic but he did enough a lot about her past.

“Where to start, she left home when she high school finished early and didn't want a part of her father's life anymore even though she loved him, her father was a hunter. hunted vampires, werewolves, and even witches he deemed a threat. Her father had this moral code, or more like a stick up his ass” Smith said, grabbing a couple more hundred and throwing them on the table. “I think you two would get along Elijah,” Klaus said smirking, digging in his wallet for more to gamble on. He could always get more anyway. Elijah internally gave the biggest eye roll. “As for Y/n she had a knack for dancing and singing I let her join. Well for her dear father his moral code got him much respect, you would know a lot about that noble ass but...unlike you, he wasn't immortal. Unfortunately, he met his match. That was for sure the man well ... had a bloody end and I mean that in every way possible.” Smith said, shaking his head, his eyes full of pity. “That young woman, the witch you are currently preying on, was left with a very broken heart, her father was everything to her and he left her with everything. The house, the weapons he left behind, and loads of vervain and wolfsbane. But I suppose you could say she also has a sense of moral code drawn from fear. She stays away from all these things related to the supernatural world afraid she will meet the same end as her father. As for her power, she isn't the most skilled and does know a few things here and there to make sure she's safe ”Smith said and put down another full house beating Klaus again. A wide grin went across the old man's face, he loved winning. “There's more to the story but I wouldn't know she doesn't talk as much as I am making her to be,” Smith said, grabbing the cash he won, and stuffing it into a jar. Klaus didn’t care much about her backstory or the fact he lost about a thousand dollars to this stingy man. he needed to know her weak points and he could later on use her father against her Klaus hoped.

Elijah listened to the revelation, a flicker of pity went across his face for the woman, it outshined his annoyance a bit.Although Elijah knew that his brother would use this against her, he knew it was necessary. “How long since the man’s death?” Elijah asked, turning to look at both of them. Smith thought about it for a second tapping a finger to his chin. “6 years ago” Smith said, getting his cane. Fair enough time for her to process it, but yet again everyone was different Elijah thought. It wasn't enough to truly feel bad for her though, she was just another witch, right?

The next few days Y/n was on edge and didn’t know how she was going to get back home. Her fears were too strong to go alone. She couldn’t do it; she needed someone but everyone she called was picking up so she resorted to asking her boss, Smith. Back years ago he had helped intentionally to pack up some things and he wasn't the best person ever but she could deal with it she told herself. After the performance, she went to his back office. Which smells worse than the place itself. He was sitting counting the money he made from that night putting it in 15 different piles for the 15 different performers. “What” he said, his voice gruff.

“I’m assuming that hybrid tyrant came and spoke with you,” She said. She entered the room fully and closed the door. “He did, what about it?” Smith said, his eyes not once daring to get a glance up. “I need to ask a favor. I need someone to go up with me to my father's old estate, I can't go alone, I was praying that you could,” She said. There was a shear of uncertainty in her voice, she could almost feel the no coming out of his mouth.

“Not a chance,” He said, annoyed. “I don't have time and with you going on leave for a week I need to find someone to replace your ass, you think I'm just up and available just cause a vampire is threatening your life? Get.in.line his presence is threatening everyone” Smith said annoyed and maybe even pissed off. She frowned, she knew he was a rude old man, what more could she expect? “Then who the hell am I to ask?” she said

“Not my problem”

“It is your problem because he isn't just going to kill me he's going to kill you too if he realizes you didn’t help me” She spat back at him.

He finally looked up, he looked lifeless in his eyes. She could tell his jaw was clenching.

“Fine” he gritted out.“Talk to his brother, the noble guy”

An even bigger frown grew on her face. Elijah, she didn’t like him and she sure as hell if she had any other choice was going to spend a total of 7 hours back and forth from her dad's house. Maybe she hated his power, maybe his stupidly attractive face but it didn't matter.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding after a long moment of silence

“Where can I find him?” she asked.

“You familiar with the French Quarter?” he asked, leaning back in his seat. “Great,” she thought to herself. This family was more of a pain in her ass than she could think, from where the club was it was a good 20-minute drive. “Yes,” she said annoyed

“There's a bar right across from it, you’ll catch him there around 7..and if you're lucky, maybe even 6:30!” he said with fake enthusiasm, and then within seconds a huge frown

“Get out!”

She left and slammed his door shut with anger. The next following days she was now packing her bags and getting ready to confront the man who had his head way too far up his ass. “Where are you heading off to?” Rory said. She was leaning on Y/n’s door frame as she caught her packing up.

“What's it to you?” she said

“Well, you seemed mad when you left Smith's office the other day can’t help but think, are you finally fired?” Rory asked, a big smirk plastered on her face. Y/n was annoyed, of course, Rory wanted her fired, and then her competition would be gone. “Never knew you were this greedy Rory, and here I thought you just suck off the audience for more cash and I mean that in every SENSE,” Y/n said getting her last bag and turning around with a neutral face

“Whatever you say, your time is running up and I'm not the only one who knows that,” Rory said, her smirk not flattering. It was clear that Rory knew something that she didn’t. Was Y/n going to get fired? Did she hear the Mikaelsons talking to her? All questions that Y/n quickly kicked out of her head. She had one goal right now, it was not to entertain Rory and her endless shenanigans.

══════════

After basically speeding her way through the streets she made it back to the heart of New Orleans. She quickly parked and got out rushing to make sure she wouldn’t miss the original. Like Smith said he was in a corner drinking some fancy drink. Elijah had seen her before she even walked in. He was curious to see what she wanted. “Well Mr.Mikaelson unfortunately we have to meet again,” She said sitting across from him. “What do I owe for pleasure?” He said putting the drink down, licking his lips slightly from the remains of the liquor. “Your brother is desperate for Wolfsbane right or did I miss it when my life was threatened?” she said, clamping her hands together. She was giving him a pointed look which amused him further.

“Well yes, he is, now why are you here? I am going to make this clear. I am not one for negotiations, miss Y/l/n” Elijah said, his voice firm. Elijah stared right at her. He didn’t like how unreliable she was being at the moment, and it was causing him to think twice about why he even gave her his word. He also couldn't ignore the fact he would talk about bargaining with her for how undeniably gorgeous she looked at the moment. “I’m here to ask if you will come with me to my house,” She said getting to the point. She was already pretty nervous about it but put on a brave face. Elijah smirked, finding his entryway into a little teasing and fun.

“So straight forward” Elijah teased. Y/n realized what he was insinuating and got annoyed, like very annoyed. It was shown all over her face. Of course this man of cocky enough to assume that.

“No, I don't want you 6 feet near me or my bed if I had a choice by “my house ". I mean my dad's old home, that's where the wolfsbane is and I can't go alone. Let's just say my dad had a lot of enemies that didn’t like him and naturally they don't like me.” She explained to him lying through her teeth. Her dad probably killed every single enemy he had before he met his fate.

“Bold of you to assume what's what I meant,” Elijah said, the smirk growing wider.

“But I do have to ask why me? Don’t you have someone else?” Elijah asked, and this time he was sincere about it. He knew she was lying but decided not to tell her yet. He wanted to see how this would play out but from her point of view, it still looked like by his face he was playing with her. She couldn’t decide between smacking him or kissing him, out of anger.

“Because I have no one else I can trust at this moment and let's just say the person I did go to gave me what he says is a wake-up call,” She said and sighed “Will you do it or not?” She asked. Elijah looked at her, in his mind he was thinking of all the ways this little witch could surely stab him in the back, and take advantage of the situation but on the other hand, he could do the same to her. “How far is the drive?” he asked, tapping his finger on the glass.

“7 hours back and forth,” she said. Not too bad” Elijah thought, though the car ride could go two ways. She could be a pain in the ass or just quiet. He was hoping for quiet. “Well, I suppose I can dwell on it, how about this if I decide to go with you I'll be here tomorrow at 6 in the morning waiting outside this very bar. ” He said, leaning in his chair. "What do you mean to dwell on it?" she asked. "I mean think about it, it might not have occurred to you but I have responsibilities waiting for me, and the person that needs my most protection at the moment," Elijah said, he hadn't forgotten about Hayley for a moment. "Ohh, I get it you're looking after that girl who's carrying the miracle baby," Y/n said it all coming together. "Why? she's not your responsibility."She said, now crossing her arms. Elijah's eyes narrowed slightly. "She is, I made it my duty," Elijah said, getting another sip of the drink. "Why are-" she cut herself off. She didn't want to know why, she didn't need to know either. "Fine, think about it if you will," she said, slightly mocking his accent and getting up. He then did the same and straightened his cuffs to the suit. She got up to leave and he grabbed her wrist right before. “Do let me make one thing clear with you, I am being very cooperative at the moment. I wouldn’t see this type of mercy from my brother. I do encourage you not to try playing any games with me when it comes to well-being if I do go on this little trip of yours because it won’t be good for you” Elijah warned stepping closer to her. Her heart was starting to pound. “I can’t even put a scratch on you. How stupid do you think I am?” she asked in a hushed tone. She could see a few eyes from the bar staring at them. “You’d be amazed at how many idiots walk this earth,” Elijah said smugly. He let go of her, letting her get her bag.

“6 AM, I won't be late. I hope you do show up,” she gritted through her teeth. turning around and walking away out of the bar. Elijah got up and followed her. It felt like freedom when she took in the fresh cold air outside. Until she realized he was behind her. “And I am most certain we will meet again” Elijah said behind her and when she turned to look he was gone. She cursed under her breath and walked off.

“Be careful” she could hear whispering as she was walking but no one was there. She knew it wasn’t Elijah, it was those goddamn ancestors

[e-dragonic]

K and M, Nicky

K - Killer - Have they ever hunted for humans? Have they ever killed one?

No. Absolutely not.

Unless said Mundane poses a real tangible threat to him or those closest to him, he avoids hunting Mundanes.

Because to hunt Mundanes, outside of the protection of himself and those closest, is to stoop down to the levels of Rogues, where a portion of their population are infamously known for actively hunting Mundanes, either for the kicks or for food sometimes, and are the leading cause of newly bitten cubs should the Mundane survive the attack.

He has, however, killed a Mundane...

(tw blood warning for image underneath)

Though, at the time, he was under the influence of Wolfsbane, which serves as a poisonous agitator. At best, it only forces a Werebeast's Wolf out. At worse, it does the former...and throws a Werebeast into a near-blind frenzy.

And the Mundane was an individual from a well-known Poacher group (The Jackal Squad). So they deserved it. XD

M - Moonlight - What do they associate full moon with? Do they fear it, are they excited for it?

Excited!

Growing up in a Wild Werebeast Pack, they give worship to the Moon as it is in her starry fields that their Ancestors run and hunt in peace.

They even have festivals for certain Moons, usually the First Full Moon of the Season, as it was the Moon Goddess, Luna, that gifted the First Wolf the ability to Change.

So while he first started out dreading the Full Moon and the symptoms that preceded it. He soon came to enjoy the Full Moons, enjoy the rush, the exhilaration, the freedom.

He may not entirely remember what he does on Full Moons... but since he lived in deep Woodlands. He used to just letting the Wolf run free ...

But as he started to make ties in the Mundane World and live closer to it, he started to realize the, uh, inconveniences of the Full Moon...

While he does know how to resist a Change, it is usually not worth it unless in dire situations due to the strain it causes on the body.

So he has found himself in more than a few close calls in Town while adjusting to the Mundane World as he was so used to just letting the Wolf run free on Full Moons.

This hasn't changed his outlook though.

He and Whisper still celebrate the seasonal Moons, having small feasts before leaving out for the Woods before Moonrise.

[etxrnaleclipse]

Dire Situations @theweredrifter said: “I think  …  I think I need a doctor..” Gabriel muttered under breath as he stood there in one of the aisles of the book store. The estranged male is looking down at palms that were quickly breaking out in an itchy rash. He is standing in front of a Wolfsbane display. The poisonous item had obviously been touched. He’s scratching, and scratching, blue eyes reflecting quiet panic as he started to feel dizzy. It is evident he is unaware how quickly the body would be incapacitated without help.

Gabi was stood behind the counter, reading over the summary of one of the latest batches to come in, when she heard the sound of the young man's voice. She had seen him come into the store, offering a friendly greeting before he had begun to look around. At first, nothing seemed wrong, but when she heard his comment, it caused her to step out onto the shop floor and check on him.

"Oh, geez.... Are you ok?" she asked, approaching him cautiously, just in case whatever it was could be infectious. "What did this? Allergy?" Her gaze trailed over to what he had been looking at, stood in front of the wolfsbane. "Oh- Oh shit, ok... Um, sit down over there." She pointed to the chair at the counter as she began to rummage through the books for ways to help.

[cactusringed]

OC 👁️

Hi Scott I am kissing you with tongue

Oki I got a lot of OCs but I can't be asked abt them without mentioning my main baby boy light of my life dearly beloved piece of shit....

Note: all resamblance with certain characters is a crazy coincidence bc I made him back in 2017-2018 before I'd ever watched a single mcyt I just like blonde shit heads x-x

His name is Reed :3

- he's the main character of the novel I'm writing :3

- he's an ex-gangster turned petty thief and scammer and very much has a bounty on his head

- his adoptive dad was a once world famous magician, and taught him his trade. It's reed's dream to be a magician just like his dad, one day, when things are... Easier

- he's got a mechanical arm - it's a Steampunk story thus the technology is p sci-fi esque. Due to not having the best materials on hands, the arm is pretty heavy. The shoulder strap you see in the picture somewhat helps, but still, he's had to adjust his balance and suffers from shoulder and back aches from the extra weight. It can fuck with him to not wear his arm because of that lol

- because of uhhhhhhhhh several years in uhhhhhhhhh solitary confinement he is absolutely terrified of the dark and solitude :)

- he's got a tattoo of wolfsbane flowers on his hip, snaking up his side. In his old gang, members would be gifted these tattoos as a status symbol - one flower for the rite of passage, then one additional flower every time they impressed a higher up with their deeds. He has three. Some members had enough of these flowers they reach all the way to their necks

- he is literally such a cunt.

- extremely funny considering how his resamblance to certain characters is very coincidental, he's also. Rly associated with birds in the story 💀💀💀💀💀 birds are my favorite animal leave me alone. It also intertwines with the main religion of the area he's from, with birds being the gods of fire, breakers of chains, bringer of justice and retribution, and a symbol of rebirth etc etc. It's very close to his story

- he snorts when he laughs. <3

- in the very first iteration/very early draft of his story he was meant to die and his story was meant to be a tragedy. Instead it's now a tale of hope in the most dire of circumstances, and actually means the fucking world to me

Thank u for letting me rant abt my little boy baby shithead. I likes him :)

[dreamlandforever]

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 5 - Sun

I have to be honest, this whole writing something everyday is getting harder and harder, and we haven't finished the first week yet. Either way, here's today's story:

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 1.6K

AO3

V. Damsel in Distress

The sunlight coming through the window was illuminating Stiles’ notebook. He frowned slightly, unable to read some of his notes from the glare on his mechanical pencil. Before he was able to even move the notebook to avoid the glare, something covered the light and he was suddenly able to see what he had written in the notebook again. Stiles said nothing and continued reading, taking advantage of the fact that he could now read without trouble. 

When they were in middle school, Scott would sit down and play with Stiles for a few minutes without saying anything. Once the first few games were won or lost, Scott would talk a mile a minute, much too fast for just anyone to understand, getting whatever was bothering him off his chest. So, Stiles gave him a full five minutes before his impatience got the best of him. 

“You know, there’s an actual door downstairs.” He said, going for nonchalance but failing for a mile. The eagerness in his voice to find out why his best friend was there, especially entering his room via the window when he literally has a key, is more than obvious even if said best friend wasn’t a werewolf.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t one?” And the way that the joke falls flat makes Stiles turn for the first time to face his best friend.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, all business. Because if he’s learned anything the last few years is that things can go bad in an instant. 

“Why did you do it?” Scott asked softly, stepping inside the room to sit in Stiles’ bed.

And Stiles should have really seen that coming. He moved carefully, being mindful of his leg. Ever since they were kids, Scott has always been the kind of kid to try and help anyone who might be injured. Showing any kind of pain right now will only make Stiles’ situation worse.

“You were in trouble.” Stiles said simply. Because to him, it made sense.

Scott knows him enough for the answer to be enough as well. 

“Stiles, I am a werewolf.” He sounded a lot more wounded that Stiles had thought he would, but he waited him out. “I heal.” His voice was almost too low for Stiles to catch, but not quite.

“It still hurts, Scott. We are best friends. They tried to kill you.” He spoke slowly, as if he were explaining things to a child. Last night they had been attacked by hunters. They had gone after Scott, and he was distracted trying to get Liam away from the arrows and bullets, when one of them was standing right behind with a knife. Stiles did not have to think twice before standing right in the middle, taking a stab to his leg, but giving Scott and Liam enough time to get away. A wolfsbane laced stab wound would heal for him, and it might have meant something far worse for either of the wolves. Luckily for them, not much happened after that once Chris Argent had reached them and called the hunters off. 

A lot more trigger happy hunters had been coming down to Beacon Hills since Gerard died, thinking there was no one around to guard the land. They usually don’t get into situations as dire as last night, but they had been caught off guard in the middle of the woods, only Isaac, Scott, Liam, and Stiles. They had been surrounded before they had a chance to realize what was going on.

“You don’t get in the middle of that!” Scott half-yelled, exasperated. “Maybe next time I’ll just kill you myself, it will go much faster!” 

“It’s who we are!” Stiles was yelling now, but he wasn’t able to stop himself. “And I got stabbed in the leg, Scott, I wasn’t trying to hold my entrails inside. Which you have done before, might I add. You were in trouble, Scott. It’s not werewolves and humans, you know that. That doesn’t apply only to when I’m in trouble, or I speak up during a meeting. It applies all the time!” Scott’s face was enough for Stiles to know Scott knew that. 

“I know.” He mumbled. “But when the hell did a stab wound become something normal, Stiles? It isn’t. You shouldn’t have to know what that feels like. Or how to treat it. Or how to keep it hidden, Stiles.” 

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” Stiles said solemnly. 

“Don’t you dare quote Batman at me right now.” But there was a small smile on his face, even if he was trying his best to hide it.

“We are brothers, Scott. Your fight is my fight.” 

“So you decided to be Daphne?” 

“Hey! Daphne is a great addition. And I was not a damsel in distress. I was fully aware of what was going to happen. I made sure he hit the leg and not my spleen!” 

“You’re our strategist, let me be the fighter, will you?” 

Stiles doesn’t say anything, but he just smiles sadly at Scott. They both know they will be at this point again next time. Because they always do. Stiles will do what he has to, and Scott will worry.

“Why the window?” Stiles asked finally, standing in front of it and letting the sun bathe his face. It felt good after any kind of injury to remember that he was alive. That they had pulled through.

“Your dad was at the door having words with Derek.”

“WHAT?” Stiles asked, way louder than he had expected himself to be.

“Apparently, the Sheriff does know when you are limping, and he decided to blame Derek.”

“He wasn’t even there last night!”

“Derek was indeed trying to say that.” Scott conceded. 

Stiles made a move to go downstairs, and Scott was immediately by his side acting as his crutch. Stiles just let it happen, and made it downstairs in half the time it would have taken him on his own.

The Sheriff looked at them from his position on the couch next to Derek, both with a beer in hand.

“It wasn’t Derek’s fault!” Stiles defended valiantly the moment both his feet were off the stairs.

Derek was by his side almost immediately, crouching down to check at his injury. Stiles fought him off, but Scott the Traitor moved to help Derek look while holding Stiles still.

“You'll be fine.” Derek said finally, standing back up and turning to the Sheriff. “He’ll probably limp for a few days, and it will take a few days for it to heal, but it’s mostly superficial. The hunter probably thought the wolfsbane would do the job, not the stab wound.”

The Sheriff nodded, before letting out a sigh. “Are the rest of the kids okay?”

Derek just nodded. “Chris got there in time. Stiles getting in the middle of whatever was happening was not… the worst thing. When they hurt a human it made them hesitate. Also, not having one of us be poisoned is always good.” He turned to Stiles then, brows furrowed. “That does not mean you get to pull shit like that again. Ever. You see a knife and you run the other way.” 

Stiles was about to complain, but ended up remaining silent. He nodded with a smile. This dance he was familiar with, too. Somewhere in between trying to stay alive and becoming a Pack, Derek Hale had become a friend. A friend who worried. A friend his father had just yelled at.

“Wait! Why were the two of you having words?” He asked, confused.

Derek just shook his head. “I heard what happened, wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“I didn’t.” Stiles answered immediately, like it hadn’t already been established.

Derek completely ignored him. “They told me you got stabbed and that Scott was sulking.”

“I wasn’t sulking!” Scott defended himself, dragging Stiles to a nearby chair.

“You so were, bro.” Stiles said. Because if Scott could betray him then so could he. Scott shot him a look, but still sat right next to him and helped him prop his leg high on another chair. 

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t dying from gangrene and the Sheriff was on his way out. We just went over a few details of what happened.” Derek explained, the tip of his ears turning a very interesting shade of pink.

“I need you to be more careful.” The Sheriff said to Stiles, arms crossed over his chest. 

“He’s not allowed to die on us.” Scott said solemnly, arm firm and unmoving from Stiles’ shoulder. 

And the Sheriff just nodded, like that made sense. It didn’t make sense to Stiles.

But then Derek nodded too.

“He’s not.” He agreed.

“Glad we all established that?” Stiles asked nervously. “I want to go for a walk.” His leg hurt, and he was not going to spend all afternoon trying to understand what unspoken conversation and weird camaraderie thing was going on with his dad and one of the Alphas. He could focus on that when he felt no pain. 

Derek rolled his eyes, but helped Scott by acting as Stiles’ crutch on his other side.

“We'll bring him back in a few minutes, when he gets tired.” Scott said to the Sheriff, guiding Stiles towards the door.

“Hey! I can so stand a lot more than a few minutes.” Stiles defended.

“Come on, let’s see if we can get you to tan a little.” Scott said, and Stiles followed obediently. His friends were okay, and he was going to be okay, too. He could deal with some awkward conversations every now and then if it meant they were all alive at the end of day. 

[pinkiepiebones]

Dear Zombie,

Ask and you shall receive:

Tell me about the time when, in a particularly wistful state of mind, I indulged in moon gazing, and felt a benevolent, kindred-soul sort of presence near me.

Your ever grateful friend,

Robbie

You've been going out at night, bit by bit. First just in front of your door. Then down the walkway. Then around the walkway. It sucks. But you've realised that most normal(?) adults can and do wander the nighttime without worries of what might lurk in the peripheral shadows. So you keep it up, and it sucks a little less each time. Maybe there's something to exposure therapy.

You've also been trying to reset your circadian rhythm to something more resembling a normal(?) person's, now that there's no need to be at anyone's beck and call, and stepping out at night has become part of your personal winding-down ritual, followed by a little bit of sewing or curling up on the couch with a nice book.

Tonight you're walking down the stairs of your apartment complex with a stuffed tote bag as the sun sets. It feels weirdly thrilling to be venturing so far at night from your small and safe apartment.

"C'mon now," you chastise yourself. "You're safe out here, too. You're going to the park for god's sake. And you've got pepper spray. And wolfsbane. And there's so many lights 'round now!" You catch someone else on the sidewalk looking at you and give an apologetic smile and remember to keep your conversations with yourself internal.

The park is a far walk from home but, hell, you've walked farther before, and in much more dire circumstances. Not that these are not dire circumstances in which you find yourself. You just really, really want to see the night sky. No reason. No complicated feelings regarding the night sky and it's significance to you. Nope, no strangely melancholy memories of watching anyone while awe and dread wrestled in your chest like a pair of ravenous serpents.

You find a somewhat secluded, darker area of the park and pull a smallish blanket out of your bag. And a little container of snickerdoodles from work. Not exactly normal(?) picnic food but this isn't exactly a picnic so what the hell. Now that you're actually here, it feels like a relief. You're not waiting for anyone anymore, nor dreading their appearance in the sky. It's nice. The summer heat dies down a bit in the night, but there's still enough of it- this is New Orleans, after all- that you roll up your sleeves. You fold up your bag to use as a little pillow and settle down on your back.

The moon is not quite half-full, but it's more than a crescent. You smile a little. You used to know the proper terms for the various phases. You reach over to your snickerdoodles and a feeling like cool air ghosts over the back of your hand and you startle up, sitting and looking around because the fuck was that?

But.

There was nothing threatening in... whatever that was. On the contrary, despite being a startlingly odd sensation, it was weirdly nice? Like a whisper of some sort of comfort. Huh.

You settle back down and gaze up at the moon. The world feels small and safe right now.

[ocil91]

Okay, here's an Ask of my own design;

1. How didja devise Alcuin, Beryl and Gloria? Draw inspiration from a few people/other characters?

2. What was a scene idea that you cut because "Good gods this is too dark!"

3. Which of the twins comes easier to you for writing them?

4. How'd you decide the twins' Palismen?

Alcuin came first of the two there. I wanted a foil to Alador and I feel like I managed that pretty handily. Beryl was conceived because I didn't want the Blights to be the only married couple. I'd already solidified Gloria as a single mother in my mind and with Perry Porter being a single father I didn't want Odalia and Alador to be the only lasting marriage. Yes there's Willow's dads but we knew next to nothing about them at that time. We still barely know anything about them but that's not the point.

2. Oh gosh that's hard to say. Originally Edric attempted to break the Oath with Odalia which she was prepared for and got him sent to the Conformitorium. The idea was that he would disguise himself with Illusions as Alador and try to get information from Odalia. He would have a brief 'dance' which ended with her invoking the "oh they struck first" clause of the Oath because he was holding her hand. This was a super early idea though which didn't mesh well with the final product.

3. Edric flows so much more easily for me from a character writing perspective. But when it comes to 'action' and 'story progress' it's Emira all the way. I do more than a fair bit of projecting onto both of them so it's hard to say.

4. For Em the first concept was 'something with wings' because she had a sub-theme of flying and freedom. Then the AMA with Dana dropped and she described bird palismen as 'a Clawthorne' thing'. From there a moth was an easy choice. And Radiance was a placeholder name that I got attached to.

For Ed the first concept was a Dire Wolf Puppy actually. The idea was that the Dire Wolf part represented the ferocity with which he protects the people he cares about and the Puppy part represented his undying innocence. The name Arnica actually means (at least on some cursory searches) 'Wolfsbane' which was to reference how Edric was fundamentally opposed to the concept of a 'Lone Wolf'.

I pivoted over to Pangolin for him when I wanted to change his focus towards protecting the people he cares about. So I wanted the armor to be the most prevalent aspect. Edric is tough in ways that aren't always readily apparent and he uses that tenacity to protect his family.

[tornsurvivors]

@thesoulofasurvivor​ sent in; (  ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡. )

🏩- how does my muse handle pain? Do they vocalize their discomfort (verbally or through sound) or do they try to “suck it up” and get through it quietly? Does it depend on the type of pain? for Esmeralda

It depends on the intensity of the pain, and whether she’s alone or not. 

Pain isn’t unfamiliar to the werewolf. Especially not when she was on the verge of death at age fifteen, having been shot by a silver bullet laced with wolfsbane-- which forced her out of her wolf form and the poison of the wolfsbane prevented her from shifting. It was the last time she had been highly vocal about her pain in the company of her enemy-- howling, growling and even crying out before she eventually fell into a coma that lasted for several days. After that, she refused to vocalize her pain in front of the Hunters... or anyone, period. Because she despised being vulnerable and it often made her angry if anyone were to witness, let alone hear her pain.

The corruption within her, developed from years of slaughtering every single Hunter she encounters-- somehow helped her to conceal whatever physical pain she would feel when she’s shot, stabbed, etc. She would only clench her jaw and swallow whatever noise that threatens to escape. It helped her adjust to all forms of physical pain. Though the reason it’s considered a ‘corruption’ is because it also numbs her emotionally and it could be dangerous. If she were to forget the emotions of a human, she could end up turning into what she hunted... a monster. 

Emotional pain is a different story. If she’s alone and if it overwhelms her, she would roar or let out an anguished scream all while kicking something or driving her fist through the wall, or against a tree... whatever solid surface or object that is within her proximity till her hand’s bloody and bruised. (Even though the objects usually end up being absolutely obliterated because of her Dire Wolf strength). She would do whatever it takes till the physical pain is enough to make her forget the emotional pain. If she’s among company, she will growl / snarl threateningly before storming off to be alone and vent.

If she were to be with a loved one, whether it be of family, platonic or romantic... she wouldn’t lash out physically. She would likely break down and cry, or whine softly and that is a rarity. It just means she feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable around the loved one, knowing they wouldn’t judge her or make her feel inferior. 

[raitrolling]

some disorganised thoughts on Where the Wolfsbane Blooms because i wrote a lot and had a bunch of ideas

good news: miki isnt dead because i would not kill off a main character like that, and his psiionics aren't completely burnt out, he just overclocked them. im planning on writing a follow-up drabble to this to explain exactly what's happened and how he's feeling about it all, but yeah. ice boy will still be ice boy-ing

this bitch was fucking Long and went through multiple edits to cut it down, but i only cut a single scene from it. at the end i had initially written miki thinking about lyvere as well as thrixe, but as much as i did like him having the realisation that 'oh theres someone else i want to come home to as well' i ultimately felt like it was taking away from the main objective of Bring Thrixe Home so i had to scrap it. sorry lyvere, miki is still lowkey down bad for you tho

the use of psiionic stimulants was a call-back to the thread in which miki and thrixe first fought some fae, and thrixe had offered some to miki which he vehemently refused because he knew how dangerous it'd be for him when his psiionics are so unstable. so him willingly using them and going over the suggested dosage was both a sign that A. this situation was dire, and B. miki was more than willing to kill himself and everyone around him if it meant saving his moirail. safety would not bring him home, after all.

i was inspired by ullane's fights with the fae in In Cold Blood to make miki's fight against the royal knight to be a lot more gross and visceral, and i had a little chuckle when ullane speared the fae with tree roots in As Mayflies because id written miki doing the exact same technique with his ice spikes and cloud and i hadnt planned that at all. our deranged trolls are on the same wavelength

other inspirations for the royal knight fight: dungeon meshi (the scene where laios deliberately gets his leg caught in the red dragon's jaws so he was in position to slash its weak point), yuki yuuna (karin's last stand), and... the biolizard fight from sonic adventure 2. originally i was going to use a lyric from supporting me as the title, but then Werewolf Gimmick came on shuffle when i was driving home from work one night and it hit me that it worked way better. and for the follow-up drabble i can use another mountain goats lyric to keep the theme!

idk what disease the royal knight was meant to represent either. i thought of it being covered in boiling hot acid because then there'd be more of a challenge for miki to take it down, and i really loved how julie raur described godzilla in this essay about the responses to the atomic bomb in japanese pop culture and art. so maybe it represents radiation sickness or compilations involving nuclear weaponry, but before i read that essay i was joking to myself that it was an acid reflux fae

originally the fae was also going to be Full Of Acid inside and miki biting it's tail was going to be a lot more painful for him, but then it hit me that if it also has the same boiling acid inside it then miki's plan to freeze it from the inside-out would not work. i also struggled to figure out how to get miki off the knight's back cuz i knew i wanted him to try to go shadow of the colossus on that thing but also get flung off and break his arm, and i'd already gotten him wrapped up by the nautilus fae and i did not want to do the same thing twice (granted it still tried to choke him out but ig that isnt as egregious). but then cloud reminded me that the fae can use magic and was like OHHHH DUH ok woe. binding spell be upon ye

also this drabble hit my favourite trope of a character who has every intention of dying in battle and spending most of their life feeling apathetic to their own well-being realising in their final moments that they actually want to live. these three sentences are my absolute favourite ones in the entire drabble:

and now that im re-reading it i realise i used 'he knew' twice in a row. goddammit how did i miss that after five full read-throughs during the editing process. it always happens huh

[dxrkenedheights]

★・・・・・・★

"Yeah, it must be fun 'cause I ain't said shit!" Ryan flails briefly. "You're just arguin' with your damn self as usual." his head shakes with a disbelief that even during a dire situation, they still find a way to lock horns and butt heads, that everything he said hours before means nothing now and confirms to him why it was stupid to even bother. "You ain't gonna do shit because you're full'a wolfsbane, which is the whole point! The whole damn point why we gotta sit here." he bites back to her, huffing out about his brothers. "I don't give a fuck 'cause it ain't my brothers, it's you sat here and you can't even walk. What use you gonna be? Gonna fall on some humans and take 'em out?" he ducks his head to try and catch her eyeline but before Ryan can say much else, there's a loud rumble in the distance beyond their room. His eyes snap to the door, narrowing his gaze as he tries to pin point the sound, the loud march of feet, the sound of ripping gun fire. "Shit." Ryan hisses, glancing to Tammie with concern.

"Oh my God." Tammie groans under her breath, snapping her gaze to Ryan. "Yeah, you're right, Ry. I wanted a fight because that's fun to me right now. Outta everythin' I wanna do, a fight is right up there on the top of that list." she bites, gritting her teeth as her hand jabs the air in mimic of the imaginary list. There's a quick blink at Ryan's words, an immediate voice telling her to lighten her stance but her stubbornness will never let her. She can never admit defeat or back down, even if there was a sense of relief that Ryan finally ventured onto a topic that she was desperate to revisit. "If you keep tellin' me to shut up, only person who's gonna be killed is you." she comments quickly with no true ire but she shifts uncomfortably, letting out another groan. "This is bullshit, Ryan. If it was your damn bothers in here, you'd be breakin' down that door." and the idea of him worrying about her being weak makes her want to vomit, or the dose of wolfsbane in her veins is causing the nausea. "Appreciate you tryna be a white knight in shinin' armor, but if we don't figure somethin' out we're literally just waitin' until it's our turn on the choppin' block."

[skelesune-kitston]

Let Papyrus Say Fuck!

Amber Foxglove, sign language: *hey bro... what are yo- Dire Wolfsbane: *FUCK! Amber Foxglove, sign language: *... what pissed you off today? Dire Wolfsbane: *A DAMN HUMAN THREW A BRICK AT OUR WINDOW!

[kthynes]

THE LYCANTHROPES

pairing: werewolf!ari levinson x fem!reader

summary: Ari, after returning from his first shift, adamantly shows you nothing but love and yearning.

word count: 786

warnings: SMUT / 18+ nsfw — MINORS DNI. Contains the following acts: fingering, slight marking.

authors note: this is my submission for @syntheticavenger 8k spooky challenge. Congrats on reaching this milestone ma! 🧡

boo! this has not been beta’d — any mistakes are my own 😱

The moon was still a luminiferous ether. Loud gasping breaths perforate the shared silence, sifting through the abandoned loft like a timed reaper. For the first time in a long time you weren’t alone.

“Hi.” Ari purrs a warm welcome that rumbles deep in the hollows of his chest.

“I—“ Your tremulous hands cradle the side of his apparent face that casts from the shadows. You’re soulfully relieved that he had finally made it back to you after going rogue for a few known weeks. He had no choice. His destiny was a decrepit calling.

“Angel.” He coaxes in a featherlight whisper. You observe his indifference, vaguely forgetful. His swaying auburn hair is outgrown well past his shoulders, he’s covered in dirt and debris, clothes tattered. His sultry Arabian tanned skin scarred with silvering wounds. The sight is magnanimous. You feel the anecdotal wolfsbane, notwithstanding as it thickly pulses through his veins after pinning you his captive.

There’s that colicky, lack of self control that tightens his hold.

Ari was ultimately looking for a repentant release. His beautiful, glittery now yellow-blue eyes were trained on yours, searching hard and long— wincing with beguiled pain. The feel of his large leathery hands glide over the pearly white slip you have on, bunching the material into his hoovered fists. He’d silken every concealed curve with earnest desire that clawed him inside out. You were both pressed chest to chest, your back against the cool glass sliding door he snuck in through.

“You’re you.” You muse, eyes heavily focused on the man before you. Standing nose to nose, your thumb traces out a fresh wound along his cheekbone that soon heals itself. You can’t help but innocently gasp in awe, a monster and a man.

“And more.” He drags his nose down your jaw, finally resting in the crook of your neck, just below your ear and inhaling your natural scent. A process of familiarization that has his inner wolf howling. “I broke nearly every bone in my body just so I could phase.”

“I didn’t think I would make it.” His cracked lips tickle your corded jugular with anticipation. “But that’s when I realized…”

You involuntarily shiver, a low slither that riffs from the base of your coccyx up to your sternum where your heart beats an unsteady tempo. Ari’s heightened senses could trace out each rhythmic murmur, smiling how endowed you became, how dire he was to make you his.

“I’m cursed.” Ari dejects, melding his large form into yours. His teeth lightly scrape the base of your neck, contemplating whether or not he could mark you this instant. His wolf brain was harping him to do so. He chose to wait.

“Every lunar eclipse would turn me, my anger in the moment could be monstrous. I wouldn’t be the man you know and trust…” He impulsively latches and suctions on the thin layer of flesh, leaving a light, patchy bruise to coagulate. You erupt, arousing a gruff moan that has Ari rucking up your nightie higher, completely exposing yourself to him. “I’d be—“

“Mine. You’d be mine, Ari.” You say and then mewl the very second his rough digits slip into your warm heat.

“As I’d be yours.” He affirms, planting a firm, long kiss on your lips. There’s a fraction of stillness that intensifies with each squelching thrust. Your cunt quells his burning fingers that build up all the right kind of friction. Your right leg hangs off his hip, toes pointed down as you arch your back, keeling into his lewd touches. He growls in your ear a mammoth urge and arbitration. It turns your eyes into the back of your skull. “Our being goes on because we sing it anew.”

Upon the consummate confession, you expend a calamitous cry, your warm spend coating his fingers, slick as they continue to oscillate the last of your pulsing orgasm. Ari could piston in you like this until the come of dawn. But then your fragile facial expressions were humanistic for the animal in him, they kept him subservient at most.

His free hand caresses your sweaty cheek, your breathing impaled, eyes euphorically closed as he drags his fingers out of you. You’re empty and clenching around nothing. The adjustment gashes you the second Ari slots his lips against yours, moving with rampant fervour.

There’s a far howling wail, a universal pack cry. Ari hums and smiles. “That’s me.”

“Or me.” Your eyes snap open, ciphering a vibrant violet aura that shows for a coveted Luna that lived an unassuming voyeur on earth. Upon seeing your fanged resolve, Ari riles up a stentorian Alpha growl and cages you in with his bracing forearms.

“I should’ve known.”

[mangher-a]

Overall

Misha was born in small village, in the middle of nowhere, in a large country with a corrupt leadership.

His village and upbringing was rather conservative, in their life styles, beliefs and behaviour. Everyone in the families have a certain role, with the men providing and women taking care of the household. 

Due to his blood, his kind was seen as guards and warriors in his country. If ordered by the state, him, his father and his brothers would be called to the frontlines of conflict. If you refused or didn’t show up, you’d be either forcefully taken to the area, or you’d be tossed into confinement which could mean that you wouldn’t get out with all your sanity intact anymore, due to torture and neglect. 

It wasn’t too rare for families to break from the inside due to large amounts of stress. However, it often led to the one being left behind hunting their family down and hurting them, possibly even killing them, before disappearing somewhere. Misha had witnessed this a few times among the people of his village. Obsession was a dangerous thing, especially when breaking a bond was added to the mix.

The state could also threaten one’s family, and thus force your hand in taking part in conflicts. 

Family

Mikhail is the second oldest of seven. He has an older sister, four brothers and one baby sister. His older sibling was married off once she was old enough, her thus moving over to her husband’s family, making Mikhail the oldest and the one in charge of keeping an eye on his younger siblings as well as helping out his father on the fields and during hunts.

The family lived in a small house, consisting of just enough space to house paternal grandparents, his own parents, himself and his siblings.

Growing up wasn’t easy. Unruly behaviour was corrected with a heavy hand by either his father or grandparents. His mother would, if able to in time, lock the misbehaving kid in a room or in a shed, so they wouldn’t be harmed by the patriarch of the family. Once he calmed down, the kid in question was allowed out again.

This has numbed Mikhail to physical altercations, given that it was more or less explained away --- all his childhood --- as a sign of caring. He also dislikes to stay in one place for too long, especially in a confined room or small spaces.

Men weren’t supposed to show emotions, given that they are the ones keeping the family safe. Showing weaknesses would just make them vulnerable. Closeness, skinship, anything the like was rare. If you were upset, you were either isolated from the group or you got confronted by the father of the family which could turn ugly fast.

Bloodline stuff

Dire wolf blood. Making his kin grow big and sturdy. Also partially resistent to wolfsbane, making it more tolerable to deal with, though painful. He will be sick for a long time and even after his body has worked out the poison, there will be moments when he seems like he just got poisoned all over again due to his body still trying to fix itself. During this time a new dosage would definitely kill him.

There is talk that in his family there’s been a few individuals who have been born immune to wolfsbane, though this mutation skips generations on the regular. In Misha’s close family there were none. (inspired by this babey here)

He’s built incredibly sturdy. He can be in a head on collision with a truck and walk it off with a light limp. 

Having dire wolf blood in him makes him tolerate silver to a certain degree. If it is pure silver it will affect him more and also kill him if you get a good shot in, though it would require to hit a vital point. If a silver bullet scrapes him, it will cause a decaying wound if not taken care of. This results in a death through silver poisoning. Very slow, very agonising. (Great torture method.) 

Something or the Other

Like with many of the children in the village, even Mikhail had a mate picked out for him. They were engaged, she moved in with him and his family. The small cramped house was now more so cramped but everyone made do. Mikhail wasn’t too interested in the whole relationship, thus didn’t really rush forth with bonding or anything. Instead, he kept avoiding the whole topic. 

However, he did end up growing close to her and there was a chance they would have bonded at some point, had shit not hit the fan. 

As stated earlier, Mikhail was often called to the frontlines of conflict, though one time he was accused of treason. The state officers took him away to confinement, while also punishing his family for housing a traitor. The time spent in isolation did a number on his mental state and when he returned, he was not the same any more. He isolated himself further, barely interacting with others though seeking comfort from his mother. Showing weakness such as that was frowned upon in his family so he was punished and belittled by his grandmother and also his father. 

Eventually the stress from the situation was starting to get the best of him. He snapped at his siblings, once hurting his youngest sister by accident, which had his father enraged. This lead to a fight between him and his father. An ugly outdrawn fight which at somepoint turned to one of survival.

The whole fight ended up with Misha blacking out, having turned to a wolf that worked on pure instinct. 

He eventually snapped back to reality, while holding one of his younger siblings in his maw, blood soaking his fur and painting the snow covered ground. He was shaking, blood rushing in his ears in a way that he couldn’t hear anything going on around him. Eyes wild he looked around, the corpse of his sibling still clutched tight. 

The village woke up to the carnage, and to the prints of a large beast having fled to the forest. One more of their kind had lost his mind and was now but a feral beast. Silently they buried the remains of the family, though wondered what happened to one of the younglings.

Misha had carried them with him, occassionally stopping to put his sister down, nudging them and whining. Licking at the wounds in hopes of easing the pain that they couldn’t feel anymore. Misha carried them for three days, until he eventually just left her somewhere, and started to wander off on his own. 

He was reliving the events over and over, especially when trying to rest. His hunts for game were sloppy, violent. He was out of his mind, though slowly healing, rebuilding himself. 

He would become a provider, just like those before him. But he would do it better, he would make it work. This is an obsession he is harbouring, resulting in almost desperate approaches when it comes to relationships. He has to make it work, or he fails, and his mind most likely can’t handle it. Once he tried dating a girl casually, but that ended with her disappearing and him skipping town soon after. 

He left his country, roaming more freely around the world in order to find himself and get his mind back on track, to find structure and a solid ground to stand on, which --- hopefully --- wouldn’t have himself lose his mind again, and hurt those he care about.

His fears of hurting those close to him is also resulting to the way he treats people; being rude, giving crude remarks, being obnoxious. Unconsciously he pushes people away with the way he acts, so that there wouldn’t be any harm to them once he snaps again, because he is quite sure, he would do it again.

However, having left his home, he is labled as a traitor, with a bounty on his head and a target painted on his back.

[wolfsbane-if]

Thank you for answering all my asks!! How high is the chance of running into a pack of lycans? Is usual for lycans to form a pack? Can Garamond resist the call of the full moon?

No problem; I enjoy getting to share things like this~

Whether or not a pack is formed and what that pack looks like often depends on the type of animal involved. Werebears, for example, are exceptionally rare, and they tend to be rather solitary. A 'pack' may consist of a lone individual or perhaps a small family of parents and one or two children, but they almost never settle down in groups.

Werewolves, on the other hand, are extremely family and community-oriented. Most werewolf packs consist of multiple families who have come together to form a settlement of their own made up entirely of wolves, typically in a forested region away from humans. They rely very heavily on each other for support, companionship, and education; and the formative years of a young werewolf are especially crucial. Being able to nurture and guide a younger werewolf through their first transformations is often considered an honour and privilege, and is something that's taken very seriously among werewolf communities.

That's not to say that all werewolves are part of packs, though. Some unfortunate individuals are turned later in life and abandoned to their own devices, either by a mindless hellhound attack or by a rogue lycanthrope who didn't bother to stick around after the fact. Such individuals rarely last long, often being the first to fall to a Wolfsbane as they struggle to navigate their new way of life without any direction.

And others still simply don't live among a pack, for whatever reason. Perhaps their partner or a parent is a human and they live among humans to be with them. Or perhaps they were once part of a pack and were exiled, or left of their own volition.

All that to say: lycanthropes are scattered throughout the world and live a variety of lifestyles, and there really aren't any rules to determine when you might cross paths with one (or several). Most tend to avoid humans for the sake of safety whenever possible, and their population isn't very large on the whole, but the likelihood of meeting one depends on a lot of different factors.

As for your last question, Garamond is able to stave off their transformation during a full moon, but doing so is extremely difficult and painful, so the circumstances would have to be dire for them to bother trying, and it's definitely not something the MC requests of them unless absolutely necessary.

[kylermalloy]

Motel California rewatch!

I actually got excited about watching this episode so here are my liveblog thoughts on it.

K all the shade they’re throwing at this motel when it looks like a lot of motels I stayed in growing up…

Wait, if Scott hasn’t seen Star Wars he shouldn’t have gotten Stiles’s Yoda reference in s1. An Obi-Wan reference is about on par with that. I hate inconsistencies in my MTV scripted shows!

Chris Argent: *lays palm on the ground* something terrible happened here…

This is why Stiles is the best character. “Yeah Boyd just punched through the vending machine glass and didn’t say a word. That’s all kind of unsettling, but I’m still gonna grab a few snacks before running off scared.”

Allison’s “ssslightly naked” is such good delivery. She sells this really creeped-out vibe very well.

The dialogue in this show is…charmingly quirky. “We’re not gonna be on the top of anyone’s list for customer satisfaction” nobody talks like that! Nobody would say that. It’s kinda cute though, in a weird way. Feeds my pedantic self. Thanks, Jeff!

Derek’s scenes are so out of place in this ep. And emblematic of the show’s overall Derek problem

Jennifer sweetheart. His incredible physique? Your first date? Again, not things people say! Especially in such dire circumstances.

I can’t believe Lydia overheard the ending of The Originals in the other motel room

I always look for screaming faces in wood panels too (I’m not even joking)

Also I love how the mystery of this place is never solved. Never explained. It could have something to do with the Darach, but it’s not confirmed or even likely. This is just…a creepy place.

Hi Isaac, your acting talents are almost completely wasted here. Daniel plays vulnerable very well.

Stydia crumbs my beloved 😊 (Need to talk. Just you.)

Is Ethan…threatening Danny? “I really hope you are (a survivor).”

Honestly, Stiles, no. This is nothing like when Lydia poisoned everyone with wolfsbane. No one tried to kill themselves or even hurt anyone else.

Boyd’s unknown backstory…

Out of place in a scene where Lydia’s hearing a murder/suicide involving an infant, but her dress is insanely cute

Stydia detectives!

But guys…his feet…aren’t underwater…

I’ll bet Stiles really enjoyed singeing Isaac (why do they hate each other? It doesn’t matter, it’s funny)

What did they mean to tell us by Scott saying “there’s no hope for Derek” then cutting to Derek getting laid

Oh

(Sorry Hoechlin, I’m still not impressed by your bod—or your acting)

Honestly why were we robbed of a proper Sciles hug here

Another suicide pact!

Lydia tackles two fully grown men—I mean, two clearly teenage boys—

Coach: *lays a palm on the bus* A red sun rises. Blood was spilled last night.

I forgot about the wolfsbane in the whistle at the end and I’m choosing to continue to ignore it

Oh hi Gerard, I forgot you were in this

In 1977? Deucalion would have been, like, a teenager? At most?

(Why did I say I loved this episode and then spend the whole time nitpicking it??)