Werewolf - Blog Posts

FEAST, GLADLY / MOON STEALER / WARM BLOODED

i hold werewolves as both a symbol of transformation and of self-actualization; they are the other, and the beast, and they are us. this art was created for october’s print club; it was also created for me (and for you).

Have you seen my fangs?

Tag yourself: Modern monsters.

Vampire: Black leather jackets and sunglasses, night owl, blood-red lipstick and black eye shadow, deep kisses, mysterious,  is a picky eater, intelligent and witty, buys old stuff for “the aesthetic”, wants to see the world, is a wine-person, can do a perfect snarl, eye-rolls at stupid people.

Werewolf: Long and colourfull nails, loves puppies, eat a lot of meat, playful, is athletic, protec and attac, can’t do math, is sweet and lovable, hoodies and running shoes,  loves to cuttle, always knows when the next full moon is.

Siren: Coloured hair, wears skirts and dresses, swims at night, shiny highlighter, doesn’t wear shoes, seduces people with her songs, eyes as deep as the ocean, shallow kisses, laughs at her own jokes, sings in the shower, likes the stars, collect crystals and seashells.

Zombie: Wears statement t-shirts, mixes food together, can’t do sports to save her life, knows all the memes, a fangirl TM, would lose her head if it weren’t attached to her body, pillow-forts and blankets, is very lazy.

Witch: Wears all black, magical symbols as tattoos, carries her potions in water-bottles, her house is full of plants, has a pet bird, loves the outdoors, grows her own greens, vegetarian, wears hats, scientific, cat-person.

Ghost: Is shy, cold colours, clothes that flow in the wind, sensitive, cries a lot, mostly stays at home, owns an ouija-board, want everyone to get along, pale, soft lipgloss, is always freezing, walks lightly, doodles on everything, stares through people, remember embarrassing things too often.

"The wolf within"

An older reference sheet of mine of my viking character, Hati. She's a so called úlfheðinn (wolf-skinned or wolf-coat). I took some artistic freedom when it came to her clothes, since I wanted to fulfill a certain vision. Also the world she's coming from is not exactly Scandinavian, but more a fictional version in it's own kingdom. Maybe one day I'll create more lore for her world! I'm just... slow. There's so many OCs to attend to q_q

Yeah fr like *full moon*

Oooohhh shit *turns dramatically into fliqpy fictionkin insteread* "heavy breathing"

F U C K that shi hurted- *goes back to reading*......

Damn i got lost time to start the whole page again

dramatically and violently turns into a werewolf and then continues doing the same thing I was doing before

Why is a werewolf who is also an angel in the library buying books about demonology[study of demons] quantum physics and mathematics, cientific proof that good exists studing them like the huge theorist he is taking notes and writing like he is some detective trying to solve the biggest crime in the history? He had a lil bit of an issue searching for those books for the library was a lil bit full of book almost empty in space to get in, specially for his big muscles and body [that dawg problably uses his whole bed as a weight], his huge six wings [wich he had to carefully move around] and his big fluffy black tail [wich he had to also carefully control not to wag it to much in exitement] to be careful not to accidently send anyone flying to the fifth dimension

Being a therian is so unserious why is a cougar studying psychology

👁👁...

👀....

*wags tail*

HEY THERIANS!!!

Reblog if you wouldn’t mind compliments based around your theriotype(s)! :D

ARWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GROUP HOWL!

Reblog this with your biggest howl! Send this to any canine alterhumans you know!

here's an oc her name is Red

Monster/ inktober:Day #13 werewolf/ guarded

I imagine werewolves would be a bit protective of their stuff

Part 4, Twilight

Basic werewolf shenanigans with an additional Wolf form

I just think it'd be funny if Twi gained the were-form after Wolfie & ended up as Wolfie²

start | prev | next

More werewolf arcane content!

Revised my arcane werewolf au from back in 2022 + fitted in some photo studys in it to :D

i just made this oc for art fight and i just had to share it cus im so in love with her, she's so perfect. also gives me the excuse to make one of my characters have lore based on events in the netherlands and also to speak dutch. im so proud of her

"Watch out, there's a werewolf on the prowl" It's Howloween this month 🐺

My transformation into the goth trans witch is slowly coming into fruition.

[Dark_MS_Reader]...prt:1_》》》

I love, love, love the whole monster dynamic or unusual traits that are explained by "Oh, it's not human. That's why" honestly, I just like weird people with weird quirks. So eh.

•Part 3 will be linked when done

Edit: it's done!

《《《(masterlist)》》》

</[T|W:]> injury and death, death related trauma, mild body horror, medical malpractice, inhuman depictions, sexualization of disability, sexualization of insecurity, use of multiple cultures and religions (could be wrongfully used, if so. Tell me!!),

</[C|W]> reader is dark with intrusive or dark thoughts. But strictly SFW. So no smut. Aslo intended male reader,

The first time you arrived on this content, you were hog tied, a thick steel cord used to immobilize you. The guards even muzzled you as if you could bite them with any kind of force that could necessitate this kind of restraint.

It was half for the humiliation of dragging you over the dirtied port, the gravel and sand, and salt that scrap into your already tattered cloths. The burn against the neglected and painful remains of your body. Half that this was to make you look dangerous.

The hulking man carrying you hardly glances at you as he dropped your limp body on the deck. Considering it doest get a reaction out of you, it doesn't startle the werewolf there.

Most humans only want to interact with the inhabitants that look human. Considering most affected by lycanthopic bodies, appear human. At least sometimes. The guard preferred them to be present at the coastal office.

And that's how you were left.

No paperwork, no notice that you were coming.

Just.

Dropped off at the wolf's feet and abandoned to whatever they would do to you now that you're here.

It's the first time in a while that you could just shut your eyes and ignore everything around you. The guards weren't too kind to you while you were in their care.

They had set you up, those werewolves, with a home. A small, dingy, half abandoned thing surounded by nothing and no one. And gave you time to heal.

They would visit you, that leader you met the first day specifically; though many jokingly called him 'Alpha' when he was around his friends. But when he had come to you on the fourth day. Your body now regaining strength. He walked into a startling scene. He hadn't even smelt the blood.

He, Lucas you later over heard him being called, watched as you methodically cleaned the many wounds that engulf your body. Shirt discared beside you, seeing the full expanse of those injuries new and old on display. You're only covered by a pair of boxers as you work. Watching how you took thick strips of the bandage to temporarily cut blood flow above as you cleaned each wound on your arm.

Holding the loose edges held between your teeth, your free hand disinfecting the rotting edges of skin and muscle. He was ready to jump and stop you when he watched you grap the bisecting scissors, and yet he didn't. Only forced to stare in abject horror as you started to cut the rotten edges of the gashes of. Small snips that carved out the dead tissue. Leaving fresh rivets of blood slowly dripping down your skin.

It had taken him a few moments of standing there to see you were struggling. The pain flaring up from your work, becoming overwhelming while thin tears stream down your face. Yet you utter nothing but silence into the blood-stained cloth between your teeth.

That's when he actually apaoches the bed, being careful to wait till you put those scissors down before he asks what he can do to help.

"Sit here. I need to wrap it."

Lucas was slow to follow. He was so terrified that you were doing this wrong, hurting yourself in a delusional want for the pain to stop. He couldn't help but ask.

"You know what you're doing here, doll?"

"Yeah." Your hitching breath makes your voice stutter, "done it before."

That makes his chest tight, a feeling he associated with his werewolf friends. Because. Well.

"You've done it to yourself before?"

"No. Just inmates."

"You some kind of doctor?"

"Not a practicing one."

That arm now taken care of, you focus on the other.

Lucas loses his train of thought to the picture of the malnourished man before him having an illegal medical office.

"Your not a doctor?"

"I am." You mutter to his absolute confusion,

Pulling his hand to your shoulder, handing him the end of the ternicate, he holds it on autopilot. Lucas stares as you start the process all over again. These look like they are from a whip

"I don't work as one." You clarify. Using the conversation as a mid point for the dance between pain and relief. "I worked as a mortician."

"What."

"I worked with the dead-"

"Oh, yes. I got that but. Why? Why not be a doctor if you can. Well."

"More people died where I lived."

He can tell it's only half a lie, but he can't exactly see what.

"Never needed to save anyone."

All he could do was say, as sincerely someone who couldn't understand, that.

"I'm sorry you ended up here."

It stuck in Lucas's mind.

The knowledge that you were a doctor. Someone who could help.

But was it his place to ask?

Could he ask you? Was it too soon or too late to even try?

When he brought it up to one of the old Naga that enjoyed his company, she told how helpful someone like you could be.

To human.

Very few doctors even touch the non-human side of medical care. And even fewer would actually touch a monster. So it was a slim to none, chance you knew how to help any of them.

They weren't even sure of your own humanity or lack thereof.

"But tell you of it, Lu," she wound her coils tighter around herself. Resting her head against the shimmering scales, "If, and it be a big if. That man be a healer, he will fulfill the oath all doctors take."

He watched her thin tongue taste the air. The ugly edge from where it was docked, disappearing again behind her lips. It made certain syllables painful to say. It made her speech irregular, and some Grammer off, bit aleast she had her toungue.

"Many healer, medicinal or not. Will treat all who fall. It be only thier know how that keep those they help alive."

The vampiric monarch that lived out South was the best bet to test what Dai said.

Lucas had taken you on a tour, showing you how they tried to help each other on the huge city they gathered in. It was late dusk, but he knew he could still try.

The thralls that romed inside were lethargic as he led you further in the hotel looking housing.

Many of them hunched over in the halls, huddled close. If escaping the setting sun or your presence, well. You weren't quite sure.

And just as you try to move towards the excite, a shrill hiss breaks out behind you. This young girl, with a sqeaky hiss, was doubled over. Clutching at her shoulder.

"Oh, fuck. Sal, I'm so sorry!"

You could see the sizzling skin before she near calapsed.

Moving as if by spell, you cuaght her befote she could actaully fall. Careful to place her more gently down against the wall.

It's hardly a thought as you lift your sleeve, still holding that child so she wouldn't hurt herself. You rip open the berely closed wound there on your palm. The blood seeoping into her shirt and engulfs the wound in a few quick seconds.

You have the gash re-wrapped before the teen who bumped her is there to hold her as the blood heals her.

"Dai was right," Lucas whispers, as quiet as he could. "She said this could happen."

"And what had Dai spoken of the man holding my niece?"

The old morge on the outskirts of town was now yours. Lucas said it was just an empty lot, just a place for you to finally settle. Even if it was run down.

The citizens each pitching in to help set the place up, a carpenter Tanuki who was just passing by or the siren that just so happen to be an electrician needing a spained wing checked, and the slow trickle of each patient started up not long after.

It started with the bigger things, a broken bone here, and a deadly illness there. Just the worste most couldnt handle, like pregnancies or viseral injuries. But then you started to step up and werw seeking out people to help anywhere you could.

In the bay sector, where most aquatic or amphibious residence stay, keeping them from friction burn during shedings. Or the construction sights, who always had a sprian or a bruise or a nick you could see to.

Always with the same excuse. Just that you needed some food and then you were dragged into a group to eat with them and well, might as well clean and fix up that cut they have while you're here, right?

No, it's no trouble. Saves the trip if it gets worse, doesn't it?

You met Dai, found the Monarch of those Vampire's hunkering down in the hotel. Finding his name was Emile, or that's what people gave him as a nickname. You even met the rest of the shifters, or more specifically, the leader who would collect and help that specific type of shifter.

Day in and day out, you kept going, kept looking till you found the ship you needed pulling up to shore.

Not a lot of people knew you dealt in black market trades. Only the ones who needed to know, did.

Most just thought is was a simple trade.

You know, some fresh goods for medication. Or knowledge for medical supplies. And yes, sometimes. It was just that.

At the end of each week, you would filter into the decks where you were first dumped here to meet with some of your contacts. Trading what you scavenged from ypur work to keep the shelves well stocked.

It wasn't like you made any money, nor had you ever asked for any. So it wasn't a stretch to say this was the only way to keep things as they where.

That isn't to say you didn't keep some things.

Quills from a lionfish who contracted a bacterial infection on some of his spines. Fangs from that vampire girl, Sal, as she started sheding them. Small bundles of feathers from the flock of sirens that fly with avians.

It was all just so much better.

That was until the second spring hit the city.

Abels death in comic format tehe <3

An alternative of previous post

R E B I R T H

a ttrpg oc backstory :)

Abel Weiss grew up the first son to a wealthy couple in a nice neighbourhood, he was never a popular child, friends weren't something he ever found ease in making, but he got by.

When it came to late secondary school he met Emeliana, a new girl in town who'd quickly hit it off with most of her classmates, quite the charismatic type. She approached Abel, and a strange relationship spiralled from there.

It was always clear they weren't quite right for each other, they'd constantly spend time together but never seemed that interested in each other. They'd go to parties as a happy pair, but then Abel would sit in the corner grumbling about not wanting to be there, and then Emiliana would bicker back.. and then they'd both be storming out.

It was a hot October evening, the sun sinking behind the canopy of the forest near Emeliana's home, they found themselves curled up in the warmth of her room, and soon disagreeing yet again…

“just- just LEAVE Abel, fuck off"

“I didn't do anything Emile, what the hell is your problem?”

She was antsy, eyes darting to the window and door.

“I said, LEAVE, ABEL”

“... fine, whatever, but I can't keep dealing with your anger issues every five minutes! I love you with everything I have and you treat me like shit.”

“Liar.”

“What?”

“You're a liar…”

“Oh for fucks sake shut u-”

“Get out”

The door slammed, and he left, trotting along the dark street, huffing and kicking at stones, hands buried in pockets, the moon hung low, fog clung to the shine of lamp posts as moths flitted blindly in the distorted rays.

The air wasn't right.

Dread pricked needles deep into his shoulders.

The roads weren't empty.

“Emile are you seriously going to demand I leave then fucking follow m-”

His mouth contorted as his body swirled and laid eyes on her twisting form, tufts of fur pushing through, a painful growl escaping and golden eyes piercing into him making his chest ache, stealing his breath.

“Emile?” He choked on the word, stumbling up the pavement into the grass, backing mindlessly towards the lying shelter of the towering Scots pines and fir plantations.

There was a fear in his words, a genuine longing and worry as her body cruelly shifted and shunted awkwardly toward him, nothing but a snarl matching his cry.

Nails became claws, teeth became fangs. He turned, and ran.

The woods were pitch dark, the only sound his own heartbeat in his ears and howls close behind, the moon's glow through occasional gaps in the branches a respite.

An opening, feet fumbling down a slope barely keeping their placement, the cold glow of water spreading out around him, pebbles crunching under foot fall, teeth sinking, driving, another step denied, the ground and sharp rocks coming up to meet his skull.

Searing pain burning and sizzling, flowing fiercely under piercing panicked eyes, limbs weak and shaken, cut and bruised.

The lick of lips and sniffing of acrid red iron, blood, pooling and mixing.

He pushed himself helplessly to his knees, hands were soaked, skull itching with fiery pain, crimson ichor flooded his fading vision, memories flickered. He swung his head around, almost throwing up from the awful motion, meeting the face of a beast with eyes so familiar.

“Emeliana… please..”

His voice was waning, ached, as he dragged himself against the stones onto his feet, stumbling like a wounded lamb into the ice cold of the lake.

Nowhere to go.

She followed, gaze unbreaking, intently watching his sad attempts. Her form contorted once more as she wadded into the ripples, ratty wolven fur gave way to hazel locks and tear dribbling eyes.

Her brows furrowed, a snarl persisted, his terrified gaze locked with hers of pure yellow rage.

Desperate nails clawed at him, finding hold in wet cloth and skin as balance failed and his form dropped into bloody water.

Hands grasped and pulled, finding purchase around a gasping throat, pushing and squeezing against a flailing expiring body.

His eyes blurred and squinted against pond water as air left him in jittering bubbles, a final search for love and regret in her eyes. Naught remained. Writhing limbs became decadent, hope lost, eyes rolled, the last gasps of life lost under the water.

Light glowed down on her verdant painting of liquid sunset, she stood tall and raised her tainted palms to the moon, rising from the lake onto the stony reed lined banks, trailing her bloodshed into the grass.

Not an ounce of true regret persisted, only gratefulness to the silent drifting corpse.

Duality: Predator & Prey.

A little something I did for a project with other talented artists from my city. There’s a chance I’ll make some printables and t shirts with those designs ୧(☉□☉)୨

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒

this is just me being a marauder fanatic tbh. i love myself some old gay wizards.

marauders as things my friends and i have said:

these are real genuine interactions between me and friend group that i think would fit very well with the marauders.

jail

tea

nonchalant

carats

baguette

therapy

peter's birthday

argument

teapot

honestly, there will be more over time, i'm just too lazy to add it right now.

MoonWater fic (could be romantic or platonic) where Regulus' animagus is a little black lamb instead of a cat and Moony, the giant wolf, is very protective of this adorable little lamb who follows him around every full moon.

Does anyone else see the vision?

Willa Lykensen Zombies 2 ❤️😎💜🖤

Secretly a Wattpad werewolf CEO

make up something about the person you're reblogging this from

Werewolves?

I feel like werewolves are lacking something that other traditional monsters have. I can't figure out what it is. Vampires, ghosts, witches, they all have a little *something* that I don't get from werewolves. Maybe I just haven't read a really good werewolf story? The best one I know is "Werewolves of London" by Warren Zevon, and that only barely counts. I'm down to hear any theories, really, because this has been bothering me lately.

Feel older now.

All the gangs.

Some werewolf transformation sketches from a while ago

those werewolves will fit in the tent with you. you should let them in