#the werewolf one

[alexihollis]

Howling at the Moon (pt. 2)

part one

Swan always felt cold. Always. It didn't matter if she was right in front of the fire in the cabin living room, it didn't matter if she was in her wolf form or not, Swan was always cold. It drove Cleon a bit crazy, always putting an extra blanket over Swan or shoving mittens her way at the hint of the slightest chill.

How this all affected Cleon had to be the worst part of the situation. Far and away.

After all, Cleon picked her up when no one else would, back when Swan was just a random kid abandoned by the wolf that bit her. Only two months after getting kicked out of her house, too, so that was great. Cleon scooped her up, though, and brought her home. Taught her everything a young wolf needed to know. They lived less isolated, back then, in a farmhouse at the edge of a midsize town, just her and Cleon until she started picking up other strays around the time Swan started high school.

Swan heard Cleon talking one night, after everything happened. She was supposed to be asleep, but, instead, Swan perched on the top of the staircase of their new house that didn't feel like home and listened to Cleon.

"I let myself get distracted," Cleon said. "I wanted to build a pack. I wanted her to have what I had growing up and I just- I love you guys, you know I do, but I let her down."

"You can't blame yourself-" Cochise tried.

"She's my responsibility. I should have known everything about everyone she hung around, let alone someone she could start developing feelings for!" Cleon hissed. "I should have explained mating and not let myself believe she was too young for that crap. I know better and instead I let her down and now she's tied for life to a-"

"Hey." Swan jumped at the voice right by her ear.

Cowgirl smiled down sadly as she crouched next to her on the top step. "You don't need to be listening to this."

"I-" It was only when she tried to speak that Swan realized she was crying.

"C'mon, hon," Cowgirl helped her to her feet. "Let's get you back to bed."

It had been six years since then. Swan liked to think that she, at twenty-two, was better equipped to handle such issues as a screwed-to-hell mating bond than at sixteen. She only thought about Mercy once a day, now.

Figuring out that Mercy and her crew were hunting them down, though? As a coming-of-age ritual? Less fun. A lot less fun.

Especially because Cleon wanted to end this.

"...what does that mean?" Cochise asked when Cleon announced it to the pack. The other packs were game - once you got Cyrus on your side, like Cleon managed, the other packs of their woods would follow suit.

"We're taking out the head hunters," Cleon said. "If they cross into our territory, we are going on offense in a way we never have before."

An uneasy silence settled over the pack. Swan kept her eyes on the toes of her dirt-encrusted sneakers.

"Who, exactly, does that mean?" Cowgirl asked.

"Mercy Lane and Sully Morgan," Cleon said. "They should be pretty identifiable. The Lanes and Morgans are the two-"

"Absolutely the fuck not, are you insane?!" Cowgirl exclaimed.

Swan closed her eyes against the noise as the pack erupted.

"Do you know what that could do to Swan? No, that's not even a question-!" Cochise.

"-Can't believe you would even fucking suggest it!" Cowgirl.

"No, no, we can't- Even if she's...That's practically against pack..." Fox. Quiet, as always. She'd come to them from a pack that had been decimated by hunters, an old, old pack with strong ties to the old world ways and still worshipped the moon as a goddess.

"Swan agreed to the order," Cleon said, clear and firm, cutting through the noise.

It went silent, again.

"I want to hear it from her, then." Ajax.

Of course it was Ajax.

Swan looked to one of their newest members. She should have guessed Ajax and Rembrandt were mates. It made sense, the way they orbited each other, they were probably never cold-

It didn't matter.

"The Lanes are an old hunter family with only one real heir," Swan muttered, looking at the carpet in front of Ajax. "Take out Lane, that family will crumble. It's for the good of all of us if we do it."

"Okay." Ajax said, far too easily. "Say that again looking me in the fucking eye and I might believe you."

"Ajax-" Cochise.

"No," Ajax interrupted. "If you're going to make me go after a pack member's mate, that pack member is gonna need to be the one to tell me to do it. Cleon, I know you don't have much experience with this, it's going to kill her if you do this stupid."

"This was a difficult enough decision for her already," Cleon ground out. "You do not need to make this more difficult-"

"It doesn't seem like she made the decision!" Ajax exclaimed. "Did you actually ask her or did you convince her?"

"Mercy did a pretty good job convincing me six years ago," Swan said, pulling Ajax's attention back to her. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. If you don't feel comfortable...just tell me where she is."

Ajax's eyes went wide for a second. "No. No, you aren't doing that. There is no way your wolf will-"

"Considering she caused this fucking situation, my wolf's gonna have to learn to deal with it," Swan snarled. Ajax's eyes flashed yellow at the challenge, but Rembrandt's quick hand on her elbow brought Ajax's human mind forward.

Pity. Swan could use the fight.

"Mercy Lane needs to die. So does Sully Morgan," Swan said to the pack at large. "We need to put the hunters on the run for once." ---------------

Mercy Lane was going to murder Sully Morgan. She was going to murder Sully Morgan and run as deep and far into these woods as she could and pray to whomever the fuck was out there she ran into a wolf who might listen to her for just two seconds before trying to rip out her throat. Unfortunately, that would put about thirty other young, trigger-happy hunters on her ass as well which would be the opposite of helpful.

She should have run away. Mercy realized that now, she should have run away instead of waiting for her parents to approve her first hunt. She thought she could go off on her first hunt and disappear. They would assume she died and, yes, they would mourn, but Lanes did not do vengeance killings. If you died on a hunt, it was simply the sign of a poor hunter. You barely mourned deaths on a hunt, let alone on a first hunt.

Mercy underestimated the importance of being the sole Lane heir.

Which meant her parents reached out to the Morgans.

And Mercy's first chance of freedom without being tracked across the country turned into some god awful camping trip with thirty boys. Boys, regardless of their ages, because they were the most immature, arrogant, brainless people Mercy ever met.

To make matters worse? Mercy's parents decided that they needed to go hunting in the Riversend Woods. The largest old growth forest in the country, teeming with supernatural life. Humans rarely went in at all and hunters treated it as a sort of sanctuary - if they stayed in there, they would leave them alone.

But no. No. Here Mercy was with thirty young hunters at the edge.

Swan was in there. Mercy knew it, deep in her bones. It was the only place Swan take her pack, the only place Swan would feel safe after Mercy-

God. The memories of that night made Mercy feel sick to her stomach. The thought of how terrified Swan must have been as Mercy-

It took over a month for Mercy to realize why Swan ran. Why her heartbreak over Swan leaving felt deeper than it should. All-encompassing and aching and awful. Not to mention, overheating, though it felt a little ridiculous to tie Mercy's new inability to wear more than the thinnest layer of clothing to Swan leaving.

It wasn't until Mercy found the bite that she realized.

It was on her lower back, just to the left of her right hip. Her memories of that night were foggy, so God knows how it ended up back there. Scarred silver, but clear.

And, suddenly, a lot of things made a lot more sense.

The respect Swan had for her older sister, Cleon, that always seemed more than normal. How she would take a few days off from school every month. A wildness about her that both intimidated and attracted Mercy from the first moment they met.

At first, Mercy panicked. Lycanthropy transferred through bite, everyone knew that-

But Mercy never shifted. The bite was still there, still more than a scar, but Mercy never shifted or became unimaginably violent or...anything werewolves did. A family journal taught her about mating.

Wolves mate for life. They used to believe that mating was the moon goddess stitching souls together.

Unsurprisingly, the journal had been Crazy Great Aunt Gertrude's. The one who died by a crazed werewolf she thought was her friend. Mom told Mercy bedtimes stories about Crazy Great Aunt Gertrude as warnings of what happened if you befriended the supernatural.

Well.

Mercy went and did a little more than befriend.

It hadn't taken long for everything to unravel after that. For Mercy to start biting her tongue so hard she drew blood.

Because Swan wasn't like the stories. Swan was patient and kind, strong and reserved. Loving. Those few months Mercy had with Swan were the most loved-filled months of her life. And if Swan wasn't like the stories, maybe none of them were.

All Mercy wanted was to find Swan and apologize. She would fall to her knees if that is what it took, she just...she needed Swan back.

Standing at the edge of her home with a bunch of hunters did not seem the best way to go about this.

Standing at the edge of her home with a hunter who was actively proposing to her? Indescribably worse.

"Dude, what are you talking about?" Mercy finally interrupted as Sully started rambling about the strength of the families.

"Well, surely your parents have told you about the betrothal," Sully said. Mercy hated his smug mouth. "We've been matched since birth."

Mercy felt sick. "Sorry. Not happening."

Sully blinked. Furrowed his brow, "You don't really have a choice in the matter. It's settled."

"Uh, I get a choice, and I say no," Mercy said.

"Listen, here, I am trying to be chivalrous-"

"Oh, is that what this is?!"

"Our parents have-"

And that was a giant wolf tackling Sully to the ground. Holy shit.

They never did this. Werewolves never went after hunter groups like this. Vampires did, sometimes, because they were stronger and blended in easier, but werewolves?

Werewolves waited for the defense.

To have them leap out of the forest like that?

It was suddenly occurring to Mercy that she was in a lot more danger than she realized.

As the wolf turned to her, big and menacing and wow, that was a lot of Sully's blood, Mercy's hands went above her head.

And she said the first thing that came to mind: "Tell Swan I'm sorry."

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Sorry? Sorry didn't even begin to tell Swan all the things Mercy wanted to say. Not even I love you, but I'm sorry. This wolf might not even know Swan, for fuck's-

The wolf wasn't attacking her.

It just stared.

Then, it was shifting and there was a large, buff woman standing in front of Mercy. She wore jeans with ratted cuffs and a tank top and a brown vest, like the one Swan always wore. According to Aunt Gertrude's journal, the one Mercy found hidden under the third floor board in the attic after she decoded Aunt Gertrude's official journal, werewolves wore identifiers to signal to other supernatural creatures what pack they belonged to; pack animals to the core, to not be apart of a pack, to not have everyone know who you belonged to, was a cut deeper than any physical wound. Seeing the vest on this new woman, it made the ever-present ache sting a bit more.

"Mercy Lane," the woman said. She looked a bit older than Mercy.

Mercy nodded. "Yeah- Yes. Yes, I am Mercy Lane. Do- do you know Swan?"

The woman's jaw flexed as she narrowed her eyes at Mercy. Then, "Lower your arms. Behind your back."

Mercy blinked. "What?"

Then, suddenly, her training kicked back in and she realized there was someone behind her. Not close, yet, but definitely there.

"Lower your arms, behind your back. Now." The woman in front of her said.

So Mercy did. She even crossed them at the wrist in the small of her back, not surprised when she felt them grabbed roughly and rope started tying around them.

"Cleon's not gonna be happy about this," the person tying Mercy's hands - a woman, it seemed - said.

"Yeah, well, you're the asshole who made me imagine what this would be like," the first woman grumbled. "Got her tight?"

"Yeah. Got her."

The first woman pointed a finger at Mercy. "You do a single thing that makes me think you're gonna hurt her," the finger moved over Mercy's shoulder, "and you're dead. Got it?"

"Yes," Mercy said. Then, because she couldn't help herself, "Are you taking me to Swan?"

"Yeah. Don't look too happy about it yet," the first woman said. Then, to herself, "This is so stupid, what the fuck are we doing?"

Which was how Mercy found herself being marched through Riversend Woods, escorted by two werewolves. It was interesting, the differences between the two. Where the first woman was tall and muscular and beyond intimidating, the second was smaller, lean, and had the bounciest, curly hair Mercy had ever seen.

"Stop looking at her," the first woman growled after the third time Mercy looked over her shoulder to look at the second. "Actually, switch with me, I should be holding her."

"Either you hold her or she doesn't look at me, you can't have it both ways." The second woman said cheerfully. "And, no, if you try, she's going to fall over a root and hurt herself. This is a job for a scout, thanks."

"Rembrandt, I swear- Aw, motherfucker!"

"You lasted half an hour without saying my name in front of the dangerous hunter heir. Congratulations."

They were weird. Mercy liked them.

Though she was exhausted by the time they reached the large, log cabin in the woods. The door flew open as soon as they entered the clearing.

Cleon. Mercy hadn't known her very well, only met her a handful of times, but she recognized her immediately.

"What the fuck did you two do?!" Cleon demanded. "Why is she here?"

Oh. That was not good.

"Cleon-" The first woman tried.

"Ajax, I don't want to hear it! You had orders, you knew the orders-"

"They're bad orders," Rembrandt interrupted. "Bad orders that Ajax was going to follow through on, but the situation changed. Can you at least let us explain or would you rather be a dictator like you've decided you want to try out recently?"

The words made Cleon pause.

Ajax took advantage of the pause: "She wants to tell Swan she's sorry."

For the first time, Cleon actually looked at Mercy.

Mercy kind of wanted to melt into the forest floor.

"What." The word came out as a statement as her eyes bored into Mercy.

"For that night," Mercy decided to try. "I- I wanted to say I'm sorry, for everything that happened after- I'm just sorry."

She was dead. She was so dead.

"You want to say sorry yet you bring a horde of hunters to our door." Yeah. Cleon was not impressed.

"That was not my call," Mercy said. "At all. I promise."

"Oh, you promise," Cleon repeated with a disbelieving laugh. "You promise? What the fuck does that even-?"

Yeah. Mercy was dead.

"It isn't her fault who her family is," Rembrandt said. "If she's willing to try...If she wants to be different, why would you want to make Swan go through this?"

"She's been going through this for six years," Cleon growled, eyes narrowed and darting between Mercy and Rembrandt.

Indignation bubbled up in Mercy. "You left! You didn't even give me a chance to understand what the fuck was happening, you were gone before I even realized we'd been mated!"

"We left to prevent your family from hunting us like animals!"

"I wouldn't have let them do that!" Mercy screamed.

Because screaming in the face of a pack leader was a good idea. Obviously.

"What exactly are you doing now?!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, they're children," Mercy said. "Ajax killed Sully, kidnapped me, they'll run for the hills as soon as they realize. I just needed time to figure out how to ditch them."

Cleon studied her for a moment. Dragged a hand down her face and, in the most defeated voice, said, "Bring her inside. Living room."

They sat Mercy on the couch. No one spoke, Ajax and Rembrandt sat together on a loveseat while Cleon paced and no one spoke. A fire crackled in the fire place.

"Can you kill that please?" Mercy asked as a sweat began to break out on her forehead.

"The cabin's not well-insulated," Cleon said after a moment.

"Move me away from the fire, then?" Mercy tried. "I'm boiling."

"You're hot?" Cleon asked, like it was an insult to her specifically.

"Yes, I am."

"Cleon, for fuck's sake," Ajax muttered before getting up and moving Mercy herself. Mercy barely heard what Ajax said to Cleon as she made her way back to the loveseat, "Swan's not going to thank you for this shit."

Mercy was almost asleep when the door opened and women flooded into the living room. Mercy only had eyes for the one.

Swan.

She looked thinner than Mercy remembered. More severe, like she hadn't laughed properly in a long time. But she wore that vest and Mercy was just so happy to see her at all...

Swan did not look similarly happy as she looked to Cleon. "This was not the agreement."

"She wants to say sorry, apparently," Cleon said, gesturing to Ajax and Rembrandt.

Swan looked to Ajax and Rembrandt. To Cleon. Back to Ajax and Rembrandt. Then was suddenly moving very fast to the couch.

Ajax was between Mercy and Swan in seconds.

"Move," Swan growled.

"Think about this," Ajax said.

Swan barked a laugh. "That's rich coming from you."

"Swan, think about this."

"...I want to talk to her alone."

"...are you going to bring her back here?"

It was an uncomfortable amount of time before Swan said, "Yes," and Ajax moved away. Swan grabbed Mercy's bicep and pulled her to her feet, shoving Mercy ahead of her and out of the living room. Up a flight of stares. And into a bedroom that Mercy quickly determined was Swan's.

When the door closed, Mercy was speaking. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I scared you that night. I'm sorry I made you think you had to leave and that you couldn't tell me what happened and I'm sorry that I showed up with all those hunters and-"

"Stop talking," Swan interrupted. Mercy shut up.

Except Swan was just staring at her.

"I'm sorry that-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Swan's laugh was a wet, broken sound as she leaned against the back of her door. "Can you please not be you for two seconds?"

"Sorry," Mercy said, sheepish.

"They had orders to kill you," Swan said.

Oh, lovely.

"Take out the heir, take out the family and all that," Swan continued. "I approved it."

That hurt. "I understand."

"I didn't want to," Swan said. "I really didn't, but, Mercy, what am I supposed to do?! You came with hunters!"

"It was my parents," Mercy tried to explain. "I never wanted to. My plan was to run off on my first hunt, find you and explain that I understand now. I'm sorry about what happened and...I miss you." Mercy took a breath, "Fuck, I still love you, Swan."

Swan's eyes closed as if the words hurt her. "Don't say that."

That hurt. "Okay."

"You can't say shit like that," Swan choked out. "It's not- That isn't fair."

"I understand."

"Stop being so understanding!" Swan's hands were fisted in her hair now.

Shit.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay," Mercy tried, hyperaware of her hands still tied behind her back. "Swan, Swan, listen to me, please, okay? It's okay. You're okay, all right? Whatever you want to happen next, that's what's going to happen."

"No, it isn't," Swan said. At least she was speaking.

"Yes, it is. You're in control right now, okay?"

"Well, I want you to stay, and I don't think that's going to happen, is it?" Swan spat.

"I want to stay, too," Mercy said, hoping growing in her chest for the first time in hours. "Is that really what you want?"

"Of course it is," Swan looked at her like she was an alien speaking a bizarre language.

"Than we can work with that."

To Be Cont'd

@asthedeathoflight

[thelearnedsoldiertoo]

To answer the original assignment;

Post the most recent gif you have with no context

[punkitt-is-here]

having fun on the computer!!!

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

I am such a big Werewolf Stan advocate I had to jump on this particular train 🙏 (but I didn't really wanna commit to full line art, you guys understand)

Oh, and you guys aren't gonna believe this, but here's part two 🙌

[dinoserious]

full moon dogey

[kinerxy]

wip

[tubapun]

Fun Scooby-Doo fact I just realized: Fred is the only member of the gang who has not yet recieved a Werewolf form (as of 2024)

Velma: gets turned into a Werewolf by a wizard in Scooby-Doo! and the Goblin King (2009)

Daphne: gets turned into a Werewolf by a ghost curse in The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo (1985)

Shaggy: gets turned into a Werewolf by Dracula (and his hunch bunch) in Scooby-Doo! and the Reluctant Werewolf (1988)

Scooby-Doo: gets turned into a Werewolf (human) in a nightmare Shaggy has in Big Top Scooby-Doo! (2012)

[hemipenal-system]

werewolf pulling you into her arms in her sleep and holding you like a treasured stuffed animal

[bluegiragi]

chasing tail.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[murplemuddle]

[h00f]

T4TM (Theseus4TheMinotaur)

lost wax cast bronze, patina & paste wax

2023

(process photos & info under cut <3)

my minotaur boy!! pls click on the photos for higher res! my thesis is focusing on trans men and creatures (how original ik) and this was last semester's final. i spent a lot of time looking at sculptures of the theseus/minotaur story, and yknow? a LOT of them are erotic! i'm pretty sure i saw some of them on tumblr a decade ago, and that's led to this now!

as you'll notice, the minotaur has a big t-dick! i wanted to give him breasts and an enlarged clitoris to present a very masculine trans figure. the boy on the bottom is also trans because i say so . the piece is about looking up to older, bigger, hairier trans men and seeing something awe-inspiring and beautiful. the minotaur was locked up by a cruel father for being different, and i think modern adaptations tend towards a sympathetic asterion (his name in one version)

making this piece was. so much effort. it took me about 3 months to get it all together - from clay model (plasticine) to 3D print to silicone mold to wax cast, and finally bronze pour into the shell mold. and then a TON of filing, sanding, dremel-ing, and various other metalworking techniques that probably took years off my life.

i started with sketches and made theeeeeee ugliest model ever:

then used a 3D scanner to get it digital, then spent a goooood month or two making him pretty in blender! then i spent an agonizing few weeks trying to get it print-ready, and fiiiiiinally did

^^^ an early resin printed draft of the model - you can see in the final that i added lots to theseus after some feedback, but sadly the nosering broke off every time i cast it so i just. let that be <3

then came the moldmaking, and then the wax dipping!! the yellow stuff is shell mold (ground up ceramic bits and algae soup, sticks to the wax, then silica sand in varying sizes on top) which gets the wax melted out, and bronze poured in!

then it's all metalworking, cutting stuff off, and working with hot metal. they don't tell you about all the bronze dust and how annoying it gets wearing a respirator AND goggles. but it is for me health, me boy. here's him all cleaned up before the patina:

and then i spray him down with various chemicals to make it "patina" (aka rust) in pretty colors. wait a few days, then apply paste wax to seal it and give it that shine!

then we get what you see above!!! the blue was actually unintentional, and i'm still not super sure why it looks that way.. but it's pretty so idc <3

thanks for reading!! if you ever have any bronze/casting questions, don't hesitate to message me! <3

[moonstruckme]

would you write a part two to whimsy!reader totally knowing remus’ secret? i feel like r would be so sweet and casual about it that remus would cry

Thanks for requesting!

cw: post-moon werewolf Remus, mention of blood and wounds (no description)

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.4k words

The boys usually send you away this time of month. They try to be subtle about it, encouraging you to go visit your family or sleep over at a friend’s house, but you’re not one to let the full moon pass you by without notice. It didn’t take long for the pattern to reveal itself. 

Still, you don’t argue when James gifts you tickets for you and a friend to see a band you like out of town. You know they’re all most comfortable doing things the way they always have, and you worry that letting slip what you know would do more harm than good; Remus would be anxious and upset, and the other boys would only be doing more damage control than they’re used to with you around. So, you let the full moon pass you by without complaint. 

The next day, however, when you know James and Sirius will have gone to work and left Remus to rest and heal, you sneak into your apartment. 

The fact of Remus’ ailing is immediately obvious; the boys’ things are strewn all over the place, evidence of James’ and Sirius’ running about without Remus to pick up after them. There’s a pot of half-eaten stew that’s been left to cool and congeal on the stove, an abandoned roll of bandages on the coffee table, and the entire apartment smells like disinfectant and heartache. 

When you find Remus in the bedroom, your heart aches, too. He’s sleeping, but even in rest his face is pinched with discomfort, and there are several bandages visible above where the bedsheets rest halfway up his torso. It’s about what you expected, but it still makes your eyes burn. 

You try to let him sleep as long as possible, working with the environment first. You open a few windows to get out the smell and let in the new day, clean the common spaces, start your lavender incense burning in the bedroom. You’re brewing tea when Remus pads into the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Oh.” He startles to see you. “You’re back.” 

You’re startled, too. “Hi, I’m sorry,” you say, hurrying over to the windows to shut them. “Did I wake you? Is it too cold in here?” 

“No.” Remus looks wary, watching you flit about the living room like he’s not sure he’s actually woken up. “It’s nice. When did you get home?” 

“Just this morning. I didn’t see the sense in staying another night, and anyway I wanted to be with you.” You make your way back around the room to him, taking his jaw gently in your hand. His skin is warm to the touch. “How are you feeling, lovely?” 

You feel more than see Remus’ face tighten. “I’m alright. How are you?” 

You let him go, giving him a small smile. “Better now that I’m back with you, thanks for asking.” You go back to the stove to stir your pot. “If you’re warm, you don’t need to keep that blanket on for me. I’ve already seen the bandages.” 

You hear his quiet intake of breath, and then a few moments later the sound of the blanket dropping to the floor. 

“Are you in the mood for some tea?” you ask without turning around. “If you want to get back in bed, I could bring it to you there. I don’t imagine standing is very kind to your legs right now.” 

You’ve been reading up on wolf versus human anatomy. If Remus’ transformations work the way you think they do, the bones in his heels and legs would have to either break or otherwise shorten and elongate to create the legs a wolf needs; you can’t imagine it’s a painless process, or that he’s not still feeling the effects of it now, so soon after the moon.

For a dense handful of moments, Remus lingers on the edge of the kitchen. But soon you hear his footsteps, heavier than usual in a way that makes your stomach hurt, go back towards the bedroom. You finish making his tea and bring it to him with a few pieces of his chocolate. 

He’s sitting up at the edge of the bed, propped up on pillows and watching the smoke curl up from your incense with a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Hi,” you say softly. He accepts the tea and chocolate with a quiet thanks. “Do you think it might help things if I opened the curtains? Some sunlight might be good for you.” 

Remus hums his assent. Everything becomes crisper once you let the light in. Remus’ dark circles and the blood visible through his bandages, but also the healthy flush to his cheeks and the strength of his body beneath the dressings. 

“What is this?” Remus asks you, sipping his tea. 

“Bay leaves. It’s for pain relief. It helps more if you put it directly on the wounds, but I didn’t think you’d want to mess with your dressings any more.” 

He nods. Sighs. “Come here, dove. Come sit.” 

You’re eager to comply. You round the bed to avoid crawling over him, settling against the pillows beside your boyfriend with your shoulder touching his. A support, if he needs it. 

“What’s the incense for?” he asks. 

“It’s lavender. It’s also good for pain, but I thought it might help you sleep as well.” 

Remus nods again. He turns to you, his eyes some mixture of distressed and resigned. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asks. “Why did you come home?” 

“Remus,” you say gently, “we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” 

His brows hook in the middle, a small crumbling. “But you know already.” 

You cradle his face in your hand. Your voice is soft. “Yeah.” 

You pull Remus towards your chest when he starts weeping. He dampens your shirt while you comb your fingers through the hair at his nape, saying nothing. Steam wafts up from his tea until it doesn’t, but that’s okay; you’ll make him another cup when he’s ready. 

James and Sirius are surprised to find you when they come home. 

“Angel—” 

“Shh.” You cover one of Remus’ ears with your hand, his head in your lap. “He’s hardly slept all day.” 

James lowers his voice, setting his bag down on the floor. “When did you get here?” 

“This morning.” 

“But you were supposed to be away until tomorrow afternoon.” Sirius climbs up onto the bed. His expression goes tender as he looks down upon Remus’ sleeping face, and the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle.

You card your hand through Remus’ hair. “I didn’t want to be away from him,” you admit softly. “I understand why you want to do things without me on the night it happens, but I’d like to help before and afterwards at least.” 

Sirius’ brow pinches, his eyes narrowing cautiously. 

“When what happens?” James asks you. 

You speak softly, not wanting the words to potentially agitate Remus in his sleep. “The transformation.” 

There’s a thick pause. 

“Who told you?” Sirius asks. 

“No one had to tell me.” 

There’s a quiet chuckle from the end of the bed. James kicks his shoes off, crawling up the covers to meet you. “I told you she knew.” He gives you a kiss, soft and syrupy sweet. “Thanks for looking after him for us, sweetheart.” 

Remus grunts, coming awake. “James,” he groans. “Your knee is on my leg.” 

“Oh. Sorry, love.” James moves, then bends down to give Remus a kiss of his own. “Did our angel take good care of you today?” 

“Better than this.” 

“That’s the moon talking,” Sirius says flippantly, though the hand he uses to rub Remus’ shoulder is exceedingly gentle. “That’s something you’ll learn as we go along, gorgeous. He loves us, really.” 

You feel your brows pinch. “I thought he was as nice as always today.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters, but the look he gives Sirius is teasing. 

James gives Remus another kiss, standing. “I’ll get you some of your soup.” 

“Oh, I…” You give him a sheepish look. “I washed that down the sink. It got left out, the meat was bad. There’s tea on the stove that should help him heal faster, though, if you want to get some of that.” 

James and Sirius stare at you. 

“Seems like we should’ve brought you in on this a lot sooner,” Sirius says after a moment. 

You shrug. Remus mumbles something that sounds like agreement.

[8balldoodles]

Time to start snapping werewolf zoro (mainly from this hazel fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/59557489

[werecreature-addicted]

I know there was a previous post about monster-fuckers being akin to chasers if monsters were real, but what if humans were fetishised by monsters?

IF A MONSTER WANTED TO FETISHISE ME I'D LET THEM.

Big bad monsters wrapping their clawed hands around your waist and teasing you for being so cute and tiny. You basically fit in the palm of their hand they could do whatever they wanted with you and you could do nothing about it.

Monsters commenting on all your Instagram posts about how sexy you look and how hot you are. even if it's just a post showing off your lunch all the comments are "I see you're eating right so you can be nice and healthy when you're pregnant with my brood." Freaks. all of them.

Monsters with those tank tops that have two arrows one pointing to their cock, one to their mouths that say "two-seater, humans ride for free."

Imagine two monsters hitting on the same human at the bar, fighting over who gets to take them home. Only to decide to share, and take them at the same time.

[queijac]

artfight revenge for thrivinghigh! 🐺

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Okay so like stick with me but young Derek, alive hale fam au.

So like the Hale family finds out that Derek has a crush on Sheriff Stilinski’s delinquent son, and has mixed reactions. Talia is torn between amusement, worry and wanting to dislike stiles. Papa hale is very protective but thinks it funny that him and his son have the same tastes.

Peter is ecstatic, Stiles once beat him in chess when running from the cops. (stiles was running and sat down in the park around people for cover, turns out he interrupted a chess tournament. Peter challenged him to a game if stiles lost, Peter would turn him over to the police. If he won, stiles could use him as an alibi)

The rest of his siblings don’t really have an opinion other than using Derek’s crush to make fun of him EXPECT for Laura. Laura is in a one sided rivalry with stiles.

As the sheriff right hand deputy she was tasked with keeping an eye out for stiles and she constantly loses him. Which shouldn’t be possible because she’s a werewolf. She can never connect him to a crime he’s committed and can never prove anything. Can’t go to a judge a say “oh he left a scent trail which I followed because I’m a werewolf.”

Derek brings him home to dinner after they start dating. Unfortunately, the day that Derek brings him over, is also the day that Laura had to run around town taking reports of his crimes. She is fuming. Stiles looks her dead in her twitching eye and asked her how her day went.

The only crime she can connect him to is when he commit aggravated assault against a few of Derek’s teammates went to far with hazing. (Derek refused to fight back as not to hurt them) she lets him off.