[lykaiia]

LYLA VANEK—WEREWOLF—BEAST OF THE NIGHT

I AM A WOLF. I HOWL AND RIP AND TEAR MY HUNT APART RATHER THAN BAWL AND COLLAPSE.

Selective, private, independent fandomless werewolf OC with a number of verses available. Lore inspired by elements of mythology / folklore & horror. OC & canon friendly, mun/muse 25+, multi-para to novella length replies with a love of plotting. Dark / mature themes present and untagged. Written by Red.

Topics explored: the beast as a metaphor for man, the girl becomes a force of nature, duality (beasthood vs. humanity), can you separate the monster from the man? the man from the monster?, humanity as a greater evil, anger as a coping mechanism, loss and acceptance, rebirth, the importance of family & bonds, found family, what is the soul?

LY’S CARRD.

Verses available: Vesperia: X   || Arise: X   || Yakuza: X , X   || FMA: X, X   || Star Trek (Wayfarer): X, X   || AI: SF: X   || X-Men: X   || Void / Cosmic Horror: X   || Top Gun: X   || FF7: X || Tron: X

[coyles-abusive-wife]

Lycanthrope concept art

:3

🌑🌘🌗🌖🌕🌔🌓🌒🌑

[enchantedbook]

'Werewolf' by Jakub Różalski

[astremourante]

She is too tired, too frustrated, to mask as well as she usually does. Amelia always tried to offer nothing in response to anything that was said, lest it was a snarky retort or an attempt to put Pavel in his place. She is too tired, too frustrated, to mask as well as she usually does. ❝ Hells. ❞ Two kids in love; it is something she recognizes painfully well, and she knows just whay may occur if she loses control of this, of them.

Everything she'd spent all these years working for, suffering for, would be ruined. It also hurts somewhere deep inside of her, that she is the only one here that remembers just what it was like to be a stupid kid in love, and the kind of trouble that followed.

❝ As boring as that little imp is, this is her blasted magic ⸻ ❞ A sleepy mumble, and Amelia is quick to rise to her feet ⸻ but it is too quickly; her body had not quite caught up to the alertness of her mind. And she starts to go down with a curse.

@lykaiia

[lykaiia]

Amelia's attitude only makes the situation that much more amusing—she can't deny how fun it is to see when she lets things slip, when the person behind the mask comes out, making those admittedly adorable expressions—and Ly's laughter picks up, turning into something fuller-bodied and louder now that she doesn't have to worry about waking the kids.

"Let 'em live. While they've got the chance." The further into this journey they get, the less time they seem to have for themselves. It is always something—the kid's incessant worrying, the protectiveness, the want for detour after detour because we have hardly ever seen anything outside our hometown.

Ly shuffles, pouting slightly when Amelia starts moving, disrupting the comfortable position she'd adopted at her expense.

"Boring," she parrots, lifting her chin to track wherever Amelia's going to go off to. "Just admit y—"

She's reacting before she's even fully aware that she is doing so, pulling her legs beneath herself to spring up at a moment's notice. As Amelia drops, Ly reaches out, grabbing her arm to guide the rest of her descent towards her chest and into her waiting arms.

"Don't overexert yourself there, princess," she says without thinking, grinning down at her, framed from above by moonlight.

"Be happy I didn't say something about you falling for me. I was tempted."

The moment of levity aside, her grin fades into something more neutral and Ly grumbles, her chest rumbling with mild disappointment. "Sleep." She has yet to let Amelia out of her arms. "I'll go hunt down the kids if it matters to you that much. Make sure they're not offering themselves up on a silver platter."

[astremourante]

Time for Ly to bodily drape herself over Amelia

✶ 𝙍𝙀: squish ╱ 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝘼𝘾𝘾𝙀𝙋𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 ╱ @lykaiia

❝ You're a lot heavier than you look, you know ⸻ ❞ Amelia grunts from beneath her. No matter how she tries to shift, or stretch her neck, there is no longer a clear line of sight to the book held in her hands. It was just about to get spicy, too. Oh well; there are worse things, the vampire thought, aside from being crushed beneath a werewolf.

Painfully, spot now lost, Amelia lets her book fall closed on the sofa cushion to wrap her arm around Ly, gently rubbing her back affectionately. Still, she clicks her tongue. ❝ Y'know, instead of crushing me ⸻ ❞ hardly, ⸻ ❝ you could also just say: Oh, Amelia, I missed you soooo much. I never want you to go anywhere again, I was lost without you, a pathetic mess, I don't know what I'd ever do without you, you're truly the best in the whole world ⸻ ❞ She is attempting to mimic Ly's cadence, while also taking some creative liberties with her vocabulary.

[lykaiia]

❝Or you got weaker in your time away,❞ Ly says, wiggling against her to really drive more of her weight in. She kicks her legs in the air, making sure to be as intrusive as possible.

She'd say the horrid attempt at mimicking her voice and accent was hurting her ears—burrowing in like an ice pick, actually, and really, is THAT what I sound like to you?—but her theatrics have already achieved the intended result, so she lets it go with full intention to bring it up another time when she's angling to get her way.

Humming contentedly, almost more cat than wolf for a moment, she all but melts into the touch, enjoying the feeling of her colder fingers trailing along her spine. ❝Oh, I could, but how about instead I say—what do you need that book for when I'm sitting right here?❞

[malefikant]

Everything was cold. Not just from the weather or the low temperatures, but an ominous, fearful kind of cold that told Alexander his time was running out. The night sky stretched above him, dark and empty. At least the cold numbed the wound in his chest and the blood loss had done its part in dulling the emotional pain. Though, echoes were still there. His mind was scrambling, jumping from moment to moment. It was hard for him to land anywhere long enough to think of something coherent.

His thoughts chased on. The only consistent one was that he did not want to die.

The sky above darkened further. Alexander hoped it was a coming storm and not his fading vision. His eyelids grew heavier and with every slow blink, a tapestry of bare tree branches maniested, lacing above him with a method to their chaos. Perhaps they traced the course of every life, flitted a stray philosophicality through his mind.

His must be that one cut short.

Silence answered and the cold began to fade. It was nice, almost, not feeling it any longer. He did not even feel the trembling of his body nor did he feel the numbness that had begun to bite him in its wake. If he tried, he could still hear noise from the streets further down. People talking, or so he thought. Mumbled voices. No.

One voice.

Alexander forced his eyes to flutter open and tried to look side to side. His neck would not listen but he did catch a shadow at the periphery of his vision. Opening his mouth, he only choked and gagged on the words he wanted to say.

[lykaiia]

Well, that was a noise.

A rather painful, grotesque sounding one, but enough to confirm he's conscious, possibly even lucid enough to understand basic instructions. That, or he heard a sound without comprehending what was asked of him and tried to seek it out in hopes of finding help.

Either option was possible. Didn't matter which it was in the end.

Ly shifts her weight, leaning further in over him so as to allow him a better look at her face. He doesn't smell like wolf—doesn't smell like much of anything beneath the overpowering metallic tang of blood—but it's enough to immediately rule out a certain group of bastards as the culprit.

They're crueller, often willing to stand around and appreciate their efforts as their prey writhes in pain, destroying itself from the inside-out. Most are not so merciful to seek a quick kill.

Though whoever found this poor bastard may be no less cruel in their methods, they seemed to not derive some kind of pleasure from watching to make sure he truly died.

Maybe they expected nobody to stop. Maybe they didn't expect him to cling so desperately to life.

She'll have to ask him more about it later, assuming he survives to speak about it.

❝I'm not gonna try and ask you to speak. So just listen. For now, I'm going to assume something was hunting you. I'm going to assume you'd like to live. If I'm wrong and you don't, feel free to change that later, but I'm going to get you out of here.❞

One arm hooks beneath his knees, the other beneath his shoulders, and with another shift of her weight and a surprising amount of ease, she lifts the pale spectre of a man into her arms.

❝I know a guy.❞

[morggo]

werewolves against fascism

free or pwyw download of hi-res, printable versions available here: https://ko-fi.com/s/a2e5b9f250

feel free to use/repost/reprint however much you want. if you leave a tip, a portion (70%) will go to various immigrant rights nonprofits around the country.

[artwins]

commission for @/stretchy412 (bluesky)

[timechange]

@lykaiia asks: SENDER carries RECEIVER when they can't walk anymore. (Okay but hear me out what if for that prompt we have big 'ol wolf just carrying Marty for some reasonー)

RANDOM SOFT, COMFORTING, KIND, CARETAKING ACTION PROMPTS. always accepting.

"... Ly?..."

Marty doesn't really know he's bothering to try and talk instead of just hanging on for dear life to her... pelt? Pelt, he guesses. She smells like home, like metal and wet dog, and that's probably the reason he's not losing his shit as much as he should be being carried like a princess (or maybe more accurately, like a puppy) by his friend, who's now a giant, fuck off werewolf.

"... You can put me down now... I-I'm okay... Look, i-it's not even that bad, I just hurt my knee and twisted my ankle a little..." Kind of an understatement, since he'd whacked his head on the curb, but he'd just wiped out on his skateboard is all. Then suddenly he's literally being picked up by the scruff before being delicately held in huge hands with paw pads on them.

It's nice to be so tall, though.

[lykaiia]

Maybe she overreacted.

Maybe with her emotional state already fraying with the full moon so close, she'd panicked seeing someone she has come to consider family over her stay here in this small, weird little town injure himself like that.

Marty was the only threat to himself right now, but that didn't stop her from leaning on the wolf, overcome by the need to protect.

In the absence of anything to kill fight, she had taken him and fled.

There are bigger problems now than Marty's potential concussion and the blood caked to the side of his head, smelling tangy and metallic just below her nose. She can already see the headlines now: monster sighted in Hill Valley! The rumours will spread and where there are rumours, there are those that chase them, hoping to hunt down anything that belongs solely to the night.

This little holiday might be over.

She'll think about that later—when she's changed back, when she can really focus on everything that has just happened. Right now—priorities.

Ly snorts, the sound reminiscent of one she's made countless times as a human, one that clearly says she doesn't believe that for a second. A small puff of steam blows out from around her face, breath hot against the chilly air.

Rather than set him down, she presses him a little tighter into the thick fur on her chest, growling something that sounds vaguely like I don't think so. Her chest rumbles with the attempt at speech, something she has still yet to master to humans in this form.

Her tongue is not meant to shape words like that anymore. Not to them.

If the rest of the pack were here, she'd bring him there, finally introduce him to the people she has mentioned time-and-time again and let them meet him for themselves. Artyom wouldn't be able to resist the kid. Danila and him would have become fast friends. They'd be able to patch him up and send him on his way.

In the absence of that, she does have one other friend she can lean on. One whose history with her dates back longer than the kid has been alive.

Ly's face twists with the effort of trying to speak again, lips curling up awkwardly. "—Doc. —No—Knows. You." She brushes one of her thickly padded fingers against the uninjured side of his head.

[lykaiia]

Sometimes I just want soft things for Ly as a treat for myself but she makes it so fucking hard

[lykaiia]

no, i am not giving you my phone.

"Your lack of trust wounds me," Ly says dramatically, going so far as to pout to truly bring home the act of disappointment. In the moment, she appears more fox than wounded dog, too sly and cunning and amused by its own tricks.

"What if I promise not to tell anybody what I find on it?"

As if there would be anything terribly damning on it anyway, not that she'd go off telling the world even if there was.

"Alright, alright." The game over, she relents, waving him over. "Show it to me then. Are you sure you typed it in right? You're not one of those bad with technology types, are you?"

[lykaiia]

can i sit in the front?

"Don't see anyone else who's jumping to take the front seat." She peers around the back of the car, head tilted enough to see the bright red of his vest as he stands by the door, waiting for further permission before hopping in.

"Knock yourself out. I'll even let you pick some of the music. You made that tape, didn't you?"

Unlike with her own bag carelessly tossed in the back of the car, Ly is far more careful with Marty's, placing it delicately between her things, well protected should anything happen.

Her hand hovers over the door. Marty had been quick to accept and while she knows the kid isn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, he is impulsive, quick to leap without thinking, and Ly can't be certain he fully understands what he has signed up for.

Once she takes off, there's no going back until it's over.

"Last chance to back out, kid. You sure you want to come with me? We'll be gone a while. Not gonna hold it against you."

[lykaiia]

you could have died , what were you thinking?

Her eye flashes as she stands, ignoring the pain tearing through her shoulder. Her skin burns at the entry wound, burns where her blood soaks into her shirt, but it pales in comparison to the irritation igniting in her veins, spreading like wildfire.

This kid has no self-preservation skills, does he? How ironic she knows that must look when she is the one who rushed in, seemingly without thinking, and allowed herself to be injured.

But a bullet won't kill her no matter where they shoot. Neither will a knife or any other ordinary weapon a human can get their hands on.

It will kill him, however, all too easily, and his life is already so short as it is. He doesn't need help shortening it.

"What did you want me to do, Marty? Let him shoot you? Let you die?" She towers over him now, fingers dyed a deeper shade of red the longer she keeps them pressed against her wound.

"Fuck, kid!" Her lip curls back, revealing her fangs as she growls. "What were you thinking?"

[asmeesh]

Bite the Hand

[ratwednesday]

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).

[lykaiia]

what's wrong with you? look at me.

"N-Nothing," Ly mutters unconvincingly, arms wrapped tightly around herself as tremors wrack her frame. Her eyes are wild, darting around the room, giving her the appearance of a cornered animal warring with the decision to fight or flee. She looks everywhere but at Marty, struggling to focus on anythingーthe cracks in the wall, the window, the sound of birds in the distanceーto combat the fuzziness taking root in her head, spreading across her senses.

The room tilts and she places a palm on the wall, curling her fingers to try and dig her claws into itーstop the floor from racing to meet her as it is so eager to do.

"Youーshouldn't be here, kid."

[lykaiia]

it's not that bad. (Marty you are fooling nobody)

"Uh-huh," Ly drawls, narrowing her eyes. The heat rising from the kid's skin is nearly enough to burn; he is running hotter than even her, something she knows well is dangerous to humans.

Never mind the fact that his voice shakes on every syllable, there is a thin sheen of sweat on his face, and his eyes are glassyーunfocused.

To prove her point, she presses the back of her hand to his forehead, brushing some of his bangs out of the way. "How much you want to bet that if I stuck a thermometer in your mouth, it would read over a hundred? Sit. Now. Or I will carry you and we don't want that, do we?"