#werewolf Honey

[harmonytre]

Who's ready for artfight???????? I sure am! I even added a BUNCH of characters I have yet to reveal to tumblr! I even have my first ever mass attack hitlist! Not just one, but THREE! On my artfight profile (HarmonyTRE), you'll find links to share characters I can draw for:

-Among Us (11 spots left)

-Kaiju Paradise (31 spots left)

-Zorua (NO LIMIT, hisuian, shiny, and fusions allowed!)

I am VERY excited for this year, so see you there!

[milkbreadtoast]

(OC) boyfriends..... 🤭🧡💜

[honeycollectswhump]

The Wolf

[part 2]

this is based on this prompt by @allthingswhumpyandangsty! i hope you like what i did with it :D also tagging @clickerflight because i think you'd enjoy this

CW: non-human whumpee, animal whump (as in the wolf form of a werewolf gets whumped), fear of death

The Wolf howls, high and pained and as sharp as its teeth, as a whip cracks against its back, again. There is nothing it can do to escape, yet it still thrashes around desperately, even as the thick rope around its neck makes it choke and stumble. 

There is no understanding in its mind that its assailants are the same people that celebrated its birthday, that brought it food when it was ill, only the vague feeling of betrayal and drowning panic at what they will surely do to it.

It doesn’t notice a young man coming closer until he is right next to its bound maw and the Wolf yelps in surprise, swinging around its massive head, trying and failing to hit him with its antlers. He grabs three of the Wolf’s sliced-up ears, tilting its head to the side, and it can only see a cruel smile playing on his lips and the jagged glint of a blade before its world bursts into darkness, solely interrupted by sharp bursts of pain.

For a while, its world is nothing but agony, as the hunter drags his knife across its many eyes, and it is powerless to stop it. If it were human, it would mourn the betrayal of its closest friend and the discovery of a side so cruel it could have never imagined it. But it isn’t, not yet at least, so it doesn’t. Neither does the young hunter, blind to a well-kept secret.

Still lost in its own pain, the Wolf barely notices when the young hunter kicks one foot into its torn-up side and it topples over without any resistance, its paws hitting the air uselessly. It hits the ground with a yelp that stretches into a long whine, when the hunter presses his boot into the Wolf’s wounds, hard.

Desperately, it snaps and bites around but its teeth only ever graze the fabric of the hunter’s pants, held back by a rope, and that earns it a kick in the face. Blinded by the hunter’s knife and its own blood, it can’t even prepare itself for the impact, can only wish for a mouth that could scream. 

The Wolf has never been prey before, but if it had any imagination, this is how its prey must feel in its last moments. Is this its last moment?

It was never cruel, not intentionally anyway, it just hunted because that was what it was made for. Whenever the Wolf got free, when the full moon was illuminating the forest just as it was doing now, it had to hunt. A deep instinct the Wolf never questioned and the Other part of it feared. So it did, hunting domesticated, lazy sheep and fat cows and eating them whole, barely leaving bones. 

To some extent, beyond the mind-numbing fear and the paralyzing pain, the Wolf knows that it is getting punished for that. Punished like a misbehaving mutt and not worthy for the beast that it is.

With one last kick to the maw, the young hunter leaves the Wolf alone, collapsed on the ground in a slowly growing pool of its own blood. And in that moment, the Wolf realizes something so loud and clear, that it reverberates in the Other part of it:

If it doesn’t escape, it will die. 

Ever so slowly, the Wolf lifts its head so that its other eyes can scan the horizon. A hint of colour betrays the darkness and it knows that the sun will rise soon. That will be its death, then. 

Because once the sun rises, the Wolf will disappear and leave behind the Other part to deal with the hunters, the hurt and the injuries and it knows the Other part is too weak. They’ll both die, by the hand of the hunters or by the ghost of their touch draining them of their shared blood. 

Where once fear clouded the Wolf's eyes, it sees clearly now. Maybe it is beyond fear, but the Wolf is not aware enough to reflect on it. The other hunters are celebrating their victory, distracted by their own success. The Wolf only instinctually feels its chance for escape, now that its predators have averted their gazes. 

Through the pain of surely broken bones, the Wolf manages to sink a bloody claw through the rope constraining its maw, desperately tearing at it till fibre rips. 

With huffing breaths, the Wolf snaps for the rope that binds it to the ground, just barely catching it with one sharp tooth, and begins gnawing on it until it snaps. It hurts, terribly so, but the pain only furthers the Wolf's desperation. It stands up on shaking legs, half collapsing under its own weight and the mass of its antlers, but the impending threat and the relentlessly rising sun keep it going. 

Clouded, bloody eyes flit around, hazily scanning the area for threats and its speeding pulse makes the Wolf's six ears twitch. Still, despite its huffing breaths, the hunters don’t seem to notice. Now it only has to get away.

The Wolf is a predator. It hunts its prey relentlessly and overpowers it with its brute strength. It isn’t made to be sneaky or silent, yet that’s the only way it has any chance of survival. With a gentleness it didn’t think was possible the Wolf puts one giant paw in front of the other, almost infuriatingly slow, inching away from the camp. 

All of its instincts tell it to run away with abandon, but some part of it, maybe the Other part, holds it back. Instead, half blinded by its own blood, it tries to avoid making any noise or stepping on branches.

Only after it is hidden behind the first line of trees, without any sign of the Hunters noticing, the Wolf takes off running, as fast as its broken body allows it. Again and again, its antlers get stuck in the branches of low-hanging trees, nearly ripping it to the ground. 

It doesn’t think about where it’s going, only that it desperately needs to get away before the relentless sun rises. Beyond its own panting breath and the blood rushing in its ears, it can’t hear anything and the uncertainty of the Hunters starting their chase is almost as gruelling as the knowledge of their Hunt would be. 

The pounding of its heart drives the Wolf further and further away, makes it sway and stumble against the trees as the forest seems to constrict around it until its paw catches on a root and the Wolf can’t hold itself up any longer. It tumbles to the ground with a yelp, already wrecked limbs bending even further, small branches and rocks digging themselves into the bleeding gashes on its back. Only now does the Wolf realise a second danger much more imminent than the light of the day–

The blood it lost.

When the Hunters will inevitably notice its disappearance, they will surely follow the bright red trail the Wolf’s wounds have so kindly left. It is destined to be the prey it used to chase across the forest, salivating at the scent of fresh blood. 

If it will even survive long enough to play the role of the prey. 

There is no denying the wooziness spreading through its flitting mind or the darkness slowly covering the Wolf like a moonless night, drawn out further by the fire burning through the groves the Hunters slashed into its back and limbs. 

Even though it manages to get its legs under its body again, the Wolf knows it can’t keep going for much longer, the mangled limbs struggling to carry its weight. But an end is not in sight.

By the time the Wolf breaks through the line of trees past the edge of the forest, it can barely hold itself up. Each step is a balancing act on knives, digging deep into the sensitive flesh of its paws, and now that it is out in the open it doesn’t even have the energy to hide, to sprint for bushes in the distance. Even then, turning back into the forest is even more of a death sentence than the merciless claws of blood loss, sinking themselves into the Wolf’s awareness. 

Despite the blood muddying its vision –it doesn’t think about the darkness on its left side. It doesn’t– it can make out the blurry shape of what might be an isolated cabin close to the forest’s edge. Recognition stirs in the Other Part, with emotions the Wolf can’t place.

All that reaches it is Safety, Safety, Safety and that fragile hope is enough promise for the Wolf, taking up its last energy to stumble towards the shelter.

It only just makes it to the wooden shed next to the cabin and though the Wolf’s skin prickles at the proximity to humans, it carries its beaten and bloodied body inside. With a last rasping breath, the Wolf collapses. Its right antler splinters into pieces at the impact, sending a burning spike of pain through the Wolf’s skull and making it whine. Like lightning, the pain zaps through its mind, a disorienting flurry of hurt. With its blinded side upwards, the other eyes down in the dirt and dust, it can’t look around the room it has trapped itself in, can’t fight back or flee, or even to notice its assailants. 

Desperately, it scratches at the ground, a futile attempt to get up one last time, to hide, to not lay vulnerable and visible in the middle of the shed, ready to be taken by a cruel and victory-drunk Hunter. 

Exhaustion weighs heavily on the Wolf’s aching limbs, a battle lost to the Hunters, the sun and its very own instincts. The ageing wood creaks around it, drowning out wheezing breaths, swallowing any warning the air might have carried to the Wolf’s torn-up ears and it can do nothing but shake in fear.

Distantly, the Other Part knows he isn’t as strong as the Wolf, knows that his fragile body won’t carry the wounds for long. He mourns his life, the one he will never have again even if he is unlucky enough to survive the day. The Wolf whimpers, an to it incomprehensible wave of grief washing over it. 

Even as all of its other senses dwindle and the day sinks its teeth into the open wounds, the Wolf can’t help but yowl. A pathetic, wheezing breath, barely distinguishable from the wind whipping against the wooden walls. It doesn’t mourn the same way the Other Part does, it can’t, it only wishes it could hunt under its beloved companion, the silver shining moon, one more time. 

Then, even the pain fades and the Wolf and the Other Part are swallowed up by darkness even the moon can’t break.

[mon-ster-chen]

💫 ...watch this! @rhysiedarby and @Schreiberland from The @cryptidfactor

[onyxsboxes]

Find the Word II

How it works: I search for the words prev assigned me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search in your WIP.

@heretoobsessstuff thank you for the tag (it's very late but here it is 😁)

My words: Snow, laugh, hair, shake

Snow (from Pretty snow)

They could go see the pretty snow later, they'll have plenty of time. But for now, Buck just wants to soak up the warmth of their bed, their scents blend, the heavy weight of his Bucky enveloping him as he goes back to sleep for a little while longer.

Laugh (buck is fine)

His father always said he was an ungrateful, selfish, disrespectful little rat. He was right. Ah ah Saint Cleven, that makes him laugh.

Hair (nybih)

“Is it a wolf?” his voice questioning and fingers pointing at Meatball, his auburn hair fell over his forehead, the wind moving them slowly.

I don't have shake but I have shaky (buck is fine)

He looks up, seeing his boys crowding around the shaky wooden table, piled on top of each other to try and keep the deadly cold away from their weakened bodies. His eyes wander until they fall on the latest addition to their little group.

Your words: Line, breath, conversation, ride

No pressure, tagging @amiserableseriesofevents @skyyguy @survivedthenight

[copper-9spurgatory]

Who would win in a fight? You or Cynessa?

What’s a Cynessa? Does Cyn become a Loch Ness monster, hence the name..Ness? The A was just added for a feminine thing.

I probably won’t win against a Loch Ness monster, it’s in the water, I don’t do good in the water. Doesn’t meant I won’t try.

[werewolfmack]

Glistening in the Maryland humidity, but ready for the wedding rehearsal.

[thefreckledgymrat]

This past Monday was the honey bears 2nd birthday!!

Finnley is no longer a puppy and is officially a dog 😭😭

But look at our babygirl with all of her birthday goodies 🥺💕💕💕💕💕

Happy birthday, my sweet little girl, your momma and I love you more than anything 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕💕

[catboybitchboy]

Werewolves

Just a whole pack of werewolves, all gentle towards their beloved little kitten except when they fuck me, then they're as rough as can be, pinning me to the forest floor with just one massive paw on my neck and shoulders that are COVERED in deep bitemarks, one cock stuffed into my hole and knotting me, another cumming down my throat and immediately moving over to let the next packmate have a turn with their new plaything, I'm on maybe my 7th or 8th orgasm, and I can scream and yowl and moan all I want, but we're in the middle of the woods, no one can hear a catboy moaning like the bitch in heat he is, so I can be as loud as I want, or rather, as loud as they want

[gentilchat]

Redesigned River to be more punk and massaged him slightly to fit the new aesthetic by now going to school to be a mechanic as opposed to a personal trainer and tailor made for me what who said that

Also his wolfman form is not changing dw I still love his stupidly hard to draw agouti pattern

[gorekody]

Hoenyyy

[wendystarseed]

…And here’s the rest of my Inktober that I completed! 🍂🎃

Day 16: Werewolf He’s pink and he’s a werewolf. Send tweet!

Day 17: Flannel Just Steven wearing his flannel shirt and playing his guitar. I might finish it someday.

Day 18: Pie Steven baked an apple pie for you! Farm fresh!

Day 19: Mushroom He’s covered in mushrooms 🍄

Day 20: Spooky When he noticed a frybo costume as a scarecrow, Steven was a little uncomfortable. 🙃

Day 21: Trees The family has a nice picnic in the apple orchard. October 21st also happens to be National Apple Day!

Day 22: Plaid Connverse cuddles in a soft plaid blanket.

Day 23: Candle Fluff, just fluff! 🥹💜 I plan on finishing this some day.

That’s all I finished. I might not even have the days labeled correctly. 🤷‍♀️ Oh well, enjoy frens 💖

[lovecanbesostrange]

ouattober2023 Day 4: Fav Quote

"You're Frankenstein. And I'm the werewolf. I ate my boyfriend. Regina thought she was punishing us by erasing who we were. But I think she underestimated how much crap we wanted to forget."

-- Ruby, 2x12 In the Name of the Brother

I can't do pretty graphics to collect some funny, insightful, inspiring moments. But I can think of one of my favorite scenes from Season 2, that set up a big theme (that sadly wasn't followed through imho) and I can ramble about it.

First of all shout out to the FrankenWolf shippers out there. While I'm not invested, I can see the appeal to this. This moment set up a monster angle nicely, a cool contrast to the (Disney) fairytale about princesses and love. It's a step removed from just villain, monsters can live in the inbetween. Imagine Ruby and Whale being around when Mr Hyde showed up (throw in a vampire, because Storybrooke deserves to have a previously unmentioned castle somewhere with a suspiciously coffin-shaped table in the living room).

So, that quote? Masterful. Even in a town filled with all sorts of people of peculiar backgrounds (dwarves, fairies, witches, talking animals), some come with a stigma, marked as bad. This goes with what Leroy says in the same episode, when he mentions E.T. and getting cut up by the government, which goes for everything magic. A follow-up to him and Ruby bringing up that point the episode prior. Some magic wasn't even liked in the Enchanted Forest. It was a dangerous place, not just songbirds and romance.

Not to be a Regina-apologist (yes, given them indoor plumbing surely improved some aspects of life), she very much doomed them to a certain kind of misery. But I love how Ruby here - without anybody of significance (sorry, Whale) hearing - frames the curse as a second chance. Free from the burden of accidentally killing her True Love. Free from the wolf altogether, until magic hit (which is Rumple's doing). It is also interesting to remember that for Regina to enjoy her triumph, she had to remember everything that had happened. She had to keep the good and the bad for her victory. The townsfolk lived mundane lives, void of their happy endings, but also not knowing the full horrors of their lives (look at all the trauma that gets uncovered later on).

For the whole of Season 2 this is a great moment. It goes hand in hand with David and Mary Margaret arguing about where to live, do they even want to go back? It follows up on how dangerous it could be to have magic in a world without magic (becoming a circus attraction). It's also a reminder that "back home" means tragedy and misery for some. What does it mean to have this second "modern world persona" intigrated, to be a somewhat new person.

Of course being the Ruby stan I am, I love this quote for the simple angst of it all. And the way Ruby speaks about Peter's death is a whole evolution. (So far as to maken a joke out of it in front of Merida and Mulan, until she finally uses the word "killed" instead of "ate" when talking to Dorothy.) The whole monster-to-monster thing is cute and I wouldn't have minded a friendship coming out of it. A specific perspective when confronting new threats. And I wish I could have seen Ruby laughing in Regina's face "You think being held back in life by staying with my sick grandma is the worst??". Cursed!Ruby was a naive smalltown girl dreaming big, she was not happy and felt stuck. Yeah, sure sucks. But Red carried the burden of killing innocent people unknowingly and even killing her own mother, when choosing herself instead of what anybody else wants her to do. Red's freedom came with a high price. (And then her loneliness continues, while her friends move on, oops.)

[abitohoney]

Sevika, please look at me like this...

This is literally the only Arcane screenshot I took myself, because it IS my fav. I stare at it entirely too often. But it's also my primary inspo as I write my Werewolf!Sevika fic A Shimmer in the Night (you know, the 'oneshot' I wrote for 'Halloween' and haven't updated in like over 2 months...) Which brings me to a PSA for those of you following it...

Next chapter should finally be coming this Friday! Was supposed to be the last chapter, but surprise! It's not! Will have one more after this. But, uhhh... make sure you check the tags when I post. Especially when the last chapter drops. It's gonna be F I L T H Y. Sorry, and you're welcome.

[mon-ster-chen]

💫 Rhys: Anton and Stede, as well as secret about the cryptid factor🤫🤫

[onyxsboxes]

Find the Word III

How it works: I search for the words prev assigned me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search in your WIP.

@alienoresimagines thank you for the tag 🥰 (it's very late but here it is 😁)

My words: Blush, high, water, curve

Blush (from Recuits Mandatory Meeting)

Jack pauses to let them observe the photo projected on the board. He's learned over time that it's best to give the men a moment to look at the photo of Buck and Bucky grinning cockily if he wants them to actually listen to the rest of the meeting. Letting his gaze wander over the room, he can see a few of them blushing slightly.

High (nybih)

He was so happy, the fact that Buck sent him messy letters (or at least messy compared to his high standards) meant he wasn't trying to put a mask in front of him.

Water (buck is fine)

He talks about the camp, the Colonnel, the bunkroom, the bunk he's reserved for him, the meal that starts in three hours, the canteen, the showers and the lack of hot water, how happy he is to have him, to have Bucky alive in his arms, so many things to keep him awake.

Curve (from Mom Harding and her two sons)

Neil may not have seen it then, but Beth knows him better than she knows herself. She felt it in the way he talked about them, in the way he kept mentioning them, in the curve of his words and the meaning of his lines.

Your words: Quite, surprise, carry, card

No pressure, tagging @simplykayley @soliloquy-dawn @wayrad