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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?

A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!

Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.

Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.

It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.

Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.

On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.

When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.

“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.

“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.

Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.

“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.

Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.

Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.

“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.

“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”

“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.

Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.

So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.

Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.

Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.

Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.

You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.

“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.

“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”

His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.

“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.

As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.

You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.

There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.

“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.

“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”

“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”

“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”

The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.

“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.

You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.

It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.

Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.

You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.

“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.

“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.

“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”

“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.

“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”

“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.

“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”

“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned

“Are you good with dates?”

“Excuse me?”

“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.

“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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inkskinned · 11 months ago

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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

#spilled ink #writeblr #personal #please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it #i really try not to write so specifically about it #bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child #i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years #i might delete this. feels big.#the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum #and if u say ur autistic #inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms #please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do #and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort.#but it still feels like...#when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing.#they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly?#and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find #the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go)#and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW."#''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.''#and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic #someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.

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lovelybluebirdie · 1 year ago

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The astonishing failure of a simple plan

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion tries to wrap his head around you, when a sudden tumult in camp occurs.

[AO3]

The concept of altruism had always been quite strange to Astarion.

Doing something solely for benefiting others, without one's own needs primarily in mind – how outrageously foolish.

And yet, he caught himself considering the idea more often since he had met you.

You, the soft-hearted soul who always seemed to stumble directly into the next best opportunity to solve the problems of complete strangers that would cross your way – gladly interfering with any sort of personal drama.

Although you and the rest of your travel companions had been infected with a tadpole to the brain, leaving you in desperate need for a cure to this rather urgent condition, somehow you would always manage to save a child from getting gruesomely killed by harpies, pick a fight with a powerful hag to rescue some random woman you just met or annihilate an entire camp full of goblins to ensure safe travels for a bunch of Tieflings – without at least demanding a proper compensation for all your troubles.

You just did those things, and it drove Astarion mad.

Perhaps one of the reasons for your undeniable saviour complex were the recurring thoughts that plagued you. You had once explained it as particularly dark urges, the impulse to hurt and kill spreading its roots inside your brain, evolving into a yearn to act out the most gruesome visions one could imagine. Gloriously kill an innocent to bathe in their blood, crush a squirrel to death with your bare fists or rip off a stranger's hand in need of help – malicious ideas that would otherwise never cross your mind.

The origin of these unwanted desires were unknown to you, but you sensed that it had to be connected to your past somehow – a part of you that had yet to be completely revealed. Of course, you had sworn to give everything in your might to resist them. And luckily for the life of your travel companions, you were mostly able to succeed.

Regardless of these murderous tendencies coming with your affliction, you were still the kindest person Astarion had ever met. A contradiction in itself, and yet you were – well, you.

Lately, Astarion had caught himself just perceiving you.

Taking in your soft expression as you were mindlessly humming a song to yourself, sitting barefoot by the river, hands elbow-deep in the cold water to wash your clothes, sticking this stupid little melody to his head for the rest of the day.

While resting at camp, he had watched you reading – one of your favourites, the lexicon of bird species in Faerûn – a terribly boring topic, but you seemed to indulge in the lengthy descriptions of a blue jay’s wingspan. You would fetch Astarion a caught smile between slowly turned pages, eyes half-closed, before eventually dozing off in the flickering light of the fire. He had barely been fast enough to catch the edges of your slipping book, saving it from landing in the dirt.

The other day, he noticed you carefully picking flowers from the road, acting like it was the most important task on your schedule. Later, you would sit in silence, brows furrowed in concentration and hands busy with knotting them into a beautiful headband. A gift for Karlach, since you had sensed that she hadn’t been too well on this particular day.

A sickeningly sweet gesture.

And yet, so typically you. Affectionate, always looking after your dearest companions.

He remembered the feeling of you casually squeezing his shoulder after an exhausting battle, the concerned look you would give him as you noticed that he had been injured, and how you insisted on treating his wounds with the utmost care, not leaving his side before you made sure his bleeding had entirely stopped.

There was the sensation of your fingers gently forming circles through his white curls, while he had buried his fangs deep inside your neck, greedily gulping down the blood you had been willingly offered to him. The quickening of your pulse, the little shivers your body would give away as he was feeding on you.

Your thumb shyly placed against his brow, the tender movement as you traced his features. The sincerity in your voice as you described the outlines of his face to him, after he had shared with you that his lack of reflection had turned the image of his own appearance into a dark shape from his past. Profane vanity was all he had initially seeked from you that evening, listening to you calling him beautiful and stroking his ego, and yet there had been a certain intimacy resonating in that moment. You had described to him what the world would see when it looked at him – what you would see.

Astarion groaned and pulled his blanket up to his chin, almost covering his bottom lip with the thin woollen fabric.

Gods, how you irritated him.

How you had infested his mind with your nauseating goodness.

When you first met, Astarion had decided that precisely this outstanding character trait of yours should be your undoing.

You offered an easy prey, he had thought to himself in a blissful glee, as he imagined all the ways in which he would bargain your trust.

Luring and deceiving were practically moulded into him, therefore charming you appeared as easy as picking the lock on a broken chest. In order to survive under his former master Cazador, he had become an unwilling adept in these abilities.

Astarion flinched as the memory of his ruthless tormentor reentered his mind. Cazador had turned him into a vampire spawn almost two centuries ago and made him his slave, forcing him to a life in complete darkness and made him use his body to bring more than thousands of victims to him.

In order to deceive you, Astarion had formed a rather simple plan: Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you would never turn on him – old habits that cemented over the past centuries had kicked in.

Therefore, it should have been easy with you. Instinctive. Following a pattern of studied behaviour, throwing his best lines at you until you would breathe his name between tousled sheets - leaving your body aching for him and trusting him unconditionally.

All he had to do was follow this nice little plan of his, deepening the selfish bond he aimed to create between the two of you in order to secure his safety. To get you on his side.

It should have been nothing more than an insurance. A simple transaction, so to speak: His honeyed words for your protection. Performing an act, yourself delightfully unaware of your leading role in this little play of his.

Well, and what else could it ever be? After all, manipulating others in order to get something out of them was the only way he had ever known.

And yet: with you, things had somewhat felt entirely different.

At least, his plan had evidently borne fruit by now: Not only were you voluntarily offering your blood to help him with his cravings after he had revealed his past of being a vampire spawn, you had also sworn to help him finding out the meaning of the scars on his back and dealing with Cazador when the time would come.

Still, instead of savouring his accomplishment he found himself distracted with his attempts to wrap his head around you.

Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to peek inside this little skull of yours, picking your brain until he would satisfy his curiosity with you and determine the reason why you were lingering on his mind of late.

He wanted to figure out what made him actually want to listen to the things you had to say, admire your wit when you would share a heartfelt laugh over one of your foolish jokes or why he would seek your company after a night spent in familiar solitude. And even worse: Why in the Hells he had caught himself enjoying how your face would light up after you had saved another unfortunate soul in need on your travels.

Astarion sighed and pushed his fingers to his eyes, hoping that pressing them shut would free him from his vexing thoughts, as a sudden noise distracted him.

The pounding of hurried footsteps and jumbled voices rose outside his tent, growing louder and faster.

He let out another disgruntled sigh.

Gods, what would it be now?

Whoever was roaming around your camp this late at night, screaming like an animal, better had a rightful reason to do so.

His annoyance fell off immediately as he came to understand what the unfamiliar voices were yelling: Your name. Followed by pleas for help.

Before he even comprehended what exactly posed this sudden level of urgency, his feet had already dragged him outside in the dark, a cold breeze brushing against his skin.

“What is going on?” he heard his own voice meddling into the sudden tumult.

Then he spotted you: Arms and legs hanging lifelessly, brought down on your bedding by one of the Harpers he remembered from the Last Light Inn. You were followed by a few other Harpers who positioned themselves around your tent - they were desperately shouting for a healer.

An icy grip twisted Astarion’s chest as he stormed forward to reach you, stomping through mud and dirt.

“Is she hurt?” His voice broke as he saw your face. You were lying on your blanket, eyes rolling behind closed lids, cheeks all flushed and a thin line of sweat forming on your brow. You looked utterly terrible: Weakened and sick, seemingly in a feverish delirium.

Astarion had seen you wounded before, due to blood and gore being in the nature of your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles, but never like this: more dead than alive, not moving a single major muscle.

What in the Nine Hells had happened to you?

Astarion swallowed hard before he found his voice again and turned to the ones who had brought you in.

“What did you do to her?” he hissed, readying himself to grab the Harper next to him by the throat and shake him until his tongue would loosen. “Explain yourself, now!”

Before any of the men could open their agape mouths in response to Astarion’s daunting request, Shadowheart broke the heated atmosphere with a soft push to his shoulder and made way to kneel beside you.

“Let me see her.” She spoke quickly as she felt for your pulse and started to spread her hands protectively over you, encompassing you in a blue radiance. She was already casting a healing spell.

“Your friend, she… she was fighting a shadow creature, and it must have poisoned her,” the Harper that had carried you pressed between quivering lips. “We already sent someone to call for Isobel. She will know what to do.” As he met Astarion’s furious glimpse, he hastily added “They – they should be here any minute.”

Poison? Astarion wrinkled his nose. Indeed, your blood smelled different – somewhat tainted.

He focused his gaze back to you, suppressing the urge to slap that damned Harper straight across the face.

Instead of acting out this violent thought, he sank to his knees next to Shadowheart and carefully laid one hand on your cheek. You were burning hot and letting out ragged breaths between your cracked lips.

“I can cast my spells, but I am not versed in the toxins of the Dark”, Shadowheart declared with the most tensed look on her face, her magic still hovering over your body. “We need Isobel – fast.”

Another twist in Astarion’s chest. He racked his brain for a solution, his hand still held helplessly against your cheek. You were in need of healing, desperately, and more adept than Shadowheart could provide. His senses began to blur.

Through the pulsing sound of blood rushing through his ears he could only gather a few scraps of the enfolding conversation between the Harpers and the rest of your companions that had hurried to your aid.

It was enough to paint a picture of what happened to you: During your night watch, you had noticed a Harper being dragged away in the shadows and went immediately to his aid. With a few quick blows, you had managed to kill the attacking creature and save the unfortunate man from his demise, but for its final act it stroked you with its claw, leaving a deep scratch on your right arm – the source of the suspected poison that would flow through your veins.

Astarion bit the inside of his cheek, spilling blood. His mind was racing.

Of course you had gotten yourself in danger over saving someone else again.

In normal times, he would have loved to tease you for your foolish act of heroism and give you an “I told you so”, probably earning a defiant look from you while you would emphasise the importance of helping those in need.

Hells, he desired nothing more than to listen to your moralising if it meant that he could just hear your voice right now.

But instead of lecturing him on morality, you were still lying on your mattress, unmoving and probably on the verge of death, and he couldn’t think of a single way to rid you of this terrible state.

He felt numb. Useless. It made him sick.

A gut wrenching thought rushed over him.

What if you would die right now – just like that?

Before he could… Well, before he could do what exactly?

The image of your limp lifeless body with dead staring eyes entered his mind.

No. You didn’t deserve to die. You couldn’t die. Not like this. Not now, not ever, not from saving a goddamned Harper.

Then you whimpered.

Silent, almost inaudible, but enough to set Astarion ablaze.

The urge of punishing every single one who had dared to lead you to harm overcame him like a ruthless wave crashing shore. He wanted to cut open, to rip apart and to send everyone into eternal hell.

Fire took over his crimson eyes as he bared his fangs, the look of a predator on his pale face, ready to curse those wretched Harpers or worse, as another quiet sound spilled from your lips.

“As… Astar... ion…?”

He froze.

His name – spoken as gentle as a flicker of moonlight glistening through leaves. Not moaned in lust or used to denounce him in anger – just… him being called, in the most faintest way.

He felt his eyes wet before he even knew it, his mouth opened for a split second only to his lips pressing it shut again, forcing himself to blink before a single tear could make its way down his cheek.

You sounded so fragile. So ... in need of him.

“Asta...rion?”

His chest twisted again.

He wanted to whisper words of comfort to you, chanting them over and over like a prayer, assuring you that everything would be alright.

“Don’t speak,” he managed to breathe in a cracked voice. “I’m here, my sweet.”

Your eyes were still closed and moving fast underneath your lids. You spoke in a fever, and he could sense that you were in pain.

Astarion brushed a strand of hair off your sweaty brow, using just the tips of his slender fingers. A most careful touch, as if a hint of deeper force would break you.

Then, there was no more sound coming from you.

“Hells, where is that goddamned cleric? If she doesn’t arrive here any second, I’m going to drag her over myself-” Astarion’s voice was nothing more than a helpless plea. He sounded way less threatening than he had wished for, almost spilling those tears he had to hold back, and seconds before bursting if there would be no aid for you right now.

“No need to shout, my friend. I’m right here.”

Isobel. Finally.

A fire in his stomach again.

How dared she sound so calm, considering your condition?

With haste, Isobel knelt between him and Shadowheart and opened her pouch, revealing a set of different sized bottles. She began to examine you with concentration, lifting your eyelids to look at your pupils, checking your vitals and thoroughly inspecting the wound the monster had inflicted on you.

Astarion gritted his teeth in anticipation, a thick lump forming in his throat.

“Will she be alright?” he eventually demanded, his voice cracking like a violin out of tune, but Isobel ignored him and silently continued her treatment.

“Astarion, I’m worried about her too, but I think we shouldn’t disturb Isobel right now,” Wyll interfered softly and squeezed his shoulder.

Taken aback, Astarion pressed his lips together. Of course Wyll would be the voice of reason in a situation like this, but unfortunately he wasn’t wrong. Isobel was the most profound healer available, an expert on the shadow creatures - and unlike himself, she offered the possibility to save you.

“As I thought,” Isobel mumbled after a minute that had felt like eternity and opened one of her potions with a loud plop. “She will need this.”

She then put her thumb on your chin, carefully opening your mouth and pouring in a dark liquid, before she continued to clear your wound.

Astarion eagerly watched her hands treating you with expertise, still not laying his gaze off you.

“I gave her a powerful antidote,” Isobel began to explain calmly as she spread a colourless balm on your torn flesh. “Such poison needs fast treatment. Fortunately, if dealt with in time, it can still be cured. I’m glad I was able to aid your dear friend before it made its way through her entire body. Otherwise… It most likely would have been fatal.”

Astarion’s muscles tightened and his stomach turned. You almost died tonight.

Isobel seemed to notice his tension, so she quickly added “With this antidote, she will be completely fine in the morning. Her fever might continue through the night, but I promise that there is no more reason for concern.”

“Are you completely sure of that, Isobel?” Shadowheart asked, seeking out reassurance that the treatment truly had succeeded.

“I swear by Selune, she is not at risk anymore. The antidote freed her from the poison and the balm will heal her wound,” the cleric responded confidently. “Her body will do the rest.”

The tight, dark blanket that had wrapped around Astarion’s chest began to loosen up.

“I… I’m glad that she’ll be alright,” was all he managed to vocalise as the adrenaline slowly faded from his body.

“Thank you, Isobel,” added Gale, who had been nervously walking up and down your tent as Isobel had tended to your condition.

Even Shadowheart, a devoted follower of Lady Shar, spared a few words of gratitude towards the cleric following her sworn enemy’s beliefs.

A general sense of ease took over from the strained atmosphere that had prevailed just a moment ago.

“She needs rest and quiet now,” Isobel claimed and gave a telling look to your companions and the assembly of Harpers that gathered around your tent.

An unspoken demand that it was time to give you some space now.

“I will stay with her,” Astarion announced to Shadowheart and the remaining group after Isobel and the Harpers had left for the Last Light Inn. There had been a quick discussion if you should have been brought with them, but eventually it was decided that you were more safe in your own bedroll than being dragged through the shadow infested lands again.

“Are you sure, Astarion? I’d be more than glad to watch over her myself,” Shadowheart responded, not hiding her surprise over his proposition.

Even if Astarion wasn’t sure about anything in particular right now, he felt the pressing need to remain by your side until you would open your eyes again, ensuring that Isobel had spoken the truth and the threat had passed.

“Well, I won’t be able to get some more rest tonight anyway, so I might as well just stay over here,” he attempted in a more indifferent manner. “Besides, her tent is by far the most comfortable one our excuse for a camp has to offer, and I’m looking forward to indulging in some peace and quiet after all of this night's terrible trouble.”

Karlach listened to his explanation in slight amusement and gave him a supporting nod. Liar, her smiling face said.

“Well, if you’re sure, and there are no objections… Then it’s fine with me, I suppose,” Shadowheart replied with a raised eyebrow. “But promise to shout for me if something’s the matter, will you?”

“Gods, would you please give me some credit here, you mother hen. I got this,” Astarion said and rolled his eyes. On the inside, he was still shaken up, and he could only hope that the slight pitch in his voice wouldn’t give him away. “So hush hush everyone, off you go now. Get in some beauty sleep, as you all are evidently in need of it.”

“Chk!” Lae’zel interfered in the most angry whisper she could muster. “Leave Astarion to look after her for the night if he insists. I’m certain he knows the fate that will await him should she come to harm under his supervision.” Lae’zel’s very own way to express that she came to care about you.

“Charming as ever,” Astarion replied at this implicit threat, still holding no intention to move merely an inch from his spot next to your bedroll.

“You see, Shadowheart? There seems to be no need to worry about our dearest friend,” Gale added with a slight chuckle. “I suppose she’ll be in good hands for tonight.”

Shadowheart let out a grunt and readied herself to leave with the others, but not before she would lay one last gaze on you, ensuring that you had not gotten any worse over the last few minutes.

Astarion watched your chest rise and fall in a soothing rhythm.

What a mess this night had been.

From the moment the Harpers had brought you in it had been like a heavy weight violently crushing his chest over and over, turning him into an angry, scared wreck, and the pressure only began to wear off by now.

Realistically, he knew that you were safe and the danger had passed. But then, why was there such an uneasiness lingering on him?

He had been scared in his life before, probably more times than he could recall, and yet… The fear over losing you tonight had shifted something in him.

You had called for him in your feverish delirium, as you were lying helpless and in pain.

It was an image hard to shake off.

Astarion sighed, when he noticed that you were still in your armour. There was no way in Hell he would let you sleep in this reeking dirt-covered piece of cloth, so his dexterous fingers began to peel it off, piece by piece. Carefully not to wake you, he stored your armour aside, until you were lying in your undergarment. Then he took your blanket and wrapped it around you.

With another gentle motion, he let his finger stroke along your brow, brushing over the dampness of your skin. You were still feeling hot.

His nose wrinkled as he pulled down his sleeve to cautiously wipe your sweat away. There was no need to get up to fetch some extra cloth, and he would be perfectly capable of cleaning his shirt the next morning.

For a while, Astarion would just watch over you, mustering your relaxed face and ensuring that your breathing continued steadily. You seemed to be in a calm sleep, still feverish, but evidently better looking than the moment you had been brought in.

The next morning came to his mind. Perhaps he might attempt to prepare your favourite food for you, a simple but apparently very delicious berry porridge. Not that he had any particular experience on the matter, since his culinary needs were restricted to blood these days, but if someone like Gale was able to cook it, he surely would be too. Maybe he would surprise you with the dog or the owlbear for some morning snuggling in bed, as you seemed to never spend a single day without indulging in some pets on your journey. Well, he probably should bring in both. Oh how delighted you would be, waking up to these furry little beasts, he thought with a grin.

Then it hit him.

Shit.

His nice, simple plan with you had truly and utterly fallen apart.

What should have been nothing more than an insurance for his safety, a way to rid himself of the tadpole in his brain and offer him a powerful ally to face Cazador some day, had developed into something he never experienced before.

He genuinely cared about you - more than he thought himself to be capable of. You had become most precious to him, and he felt the urgent need to be honest with you.

You were incredible, and you didn’t deserve to be lured into a selfish alliance.

You deserved something real.

He wanted things between you to be something real - even if he didn’t know what real looked like. After all, charming and deceiving others was the only way he had ever known. Forming a sincere connection and being close with someone posed an entirely new and remarkably scary sensation. But maybe, with you…

Your faint voice brought him back from his thoughts.

“Asta...rion?”

His face softened, not as an act of will, more like a reflex.

You looked at him with half-open eyes, sounding still a little weak.

He bowed his head closer to you and spoke softly, letting his thumb brush gently over your cheek.

"There you are, my little fool. Getting ourselves in trouble over our constant need to do something heroic again, weren’t we?”

“Mh… Is that so?” you asked in a raspy voice, offering a weak smile through glistening eyes underlined with dark circles, your hair pressed damp to your skull. “And you saved me, I suppose?”

Astarion’s heart grew tight with adoration. To him, you had never looked more beautiful.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. Actually, you have been poisoned by a shadow creature, so you were in need of a more adept healer. Isobel treated you.”

“Mhm.. How bad was it?”

He thought for a moment, the fear he had felt rushing over him for a split second and piercing his chest like ice.

"Well, not as bad as it could have. I’ll spare you the details for tomorrow.”

“That’s… good.” You hummed, sounding drowsy and still a little feverish. Then, you gave a soft plea. “Astarion… Would you… stay with me tonight?”

There it was again, a pull at his heartstrings.

Gods, you wicked little thing.

“Of course, my darling. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

A promise, unimaginable honest had it been another time, with another person, but this was now, and this was you.

He gave another gentle press to your hand, carefully intertwining your fingers with his, as if to underline his words.

"Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed for a second before you let your gaze meet his again. Another quiet mumble. "Could you... hold me please?"

Astarion was overwhelmed by your vulnerability for a second. He wanted nothing more than to provide you comfort, to make you feel safe, but didn't know if he should give in. Even though you had often shared your bedroll these days, this somehow felt more open, more intimate.

Before he realised what he was doing, he swiftly lifted off your blanket to slip underneath and laid his arm around your waist, pulling you in close.

He could feel your hand on his chest. Your head gently resting on his shoulder, fingers loosely clutching around the end of his collar. Your warm body against his cold.

Astarion let his fingers gently caressing the small of your back.

You were breathing steady, already seeming to doze off again. A soothing calmness came over him.

“I hope… I didn’t worry you too much,” you mumbled, more asleep than awake.

Astarion bit his lip.

“Well…” he said and cleared his throat. “I managed.” A complete understatement of events, but this was also a confession for another day. “Rest now, my love.”

Astarion continued to gently stroke your back, his lips turning into an affectionate smile. He never thought his heart to be this full over the failure of such a simple plan.

Masterlist

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heck-theo · 7 months ago

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Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

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kiame-sama · 23 days ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 21

(Cater can often be found in the lake next to the Heartslabyul dorm, either lounging on Trey or just casually swimming on his own. Because Cater is a lake Nymph, he is mostly translucent and invisible among the lake water, meaning he can very easily scare his fellow dorm members. The first time he did it to Riddle he was stuck in a collar for a full two weeks and resolved to never pull the Unicorn into the water again. Trey had to save Riddle- since Riddle can't swim well- and even scolded Cater in earnest for his action.)

Warnings; yandere, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, Savana king, mention of fear/trauma related to wolves/werewolves, spying, Platonic yandere goes protective, pride mentality, communal grooming, group obsessive behavior, Grim is only a good boy for his Hooman otherwise he is a menace, Nemean Lion, Werewolf, Faun, Satyr, Hellcat, Dragon, Selkie, Gnoll,

~~~~~~~~

Classes had somewhat felt like a blessing of normalcy for you and thankfully the professors were all in pleasant moods. Vargas even offered to 'set Leona straight' if the Nemean Lion ever got too rowdy or bossy. Trein made it clear that he expected you to come see him if ever anyone of Savanaclaw tried anything that made you uncomfortable. It seemed they all were ready to come to your aid if you needed them.

You didn't have many classes with Jack typically, but he seemed to suddenly be present in all of your classes. It was likely because of Savanaclaw being selected as your guards and Jack was the only first year who was an 'official' guard. There were times that you got used to seeing the Wolf-man in a passing glance, and there were times you caught sight from the corner of your eye and nearly jumped from being startled. Despite your efforts, it was proving difficult to fully relax around the Wolf.

Thankfully, most of your classes were with Ace and Deuce as well, the two Goats almost posturing around the Wolf. It was a funny sight alone and even more amusing scenario to think these Goats- who were shorter than Jack- were attempting to intimidate the Wolf. Even with the two pushing at Jack, he kept a mostly even temper and didn't even snarl at the two smaller freshmen.

Come lunchtime, however, the three were actually joking and relaxing around one another. Seeing them laugh and talk was such a stark contrast to how they had been not even hours before. It was odd enough that it made you think back to what the Ghosts had told you that morning. You knew the aura supposedly had an impact on the monster species, but what that impact specifically was eluded you.

Perhaps you would have to start keeping track of these odd instances. The notes app on your phone was a hidden enough place and you deftly entered the oddity before trying to return to the conversation at hand.

"So, (Y/n), what's the big deal letting little Grim chose Savanaclaw of all dorms? I was sure you were gonna choose Heartslabyul!"

"Well," you gently pet the little Hellcat's forehead and he purred in delight at your attention, happily munching away at some left over donuts from the day prior, "you heard his reasoning. Leona did save me that day- he saved the both of us- and I am deeply grateful for it."

"You haven't told us about that day yet, so I guess it's hard to visualize."

Ace glanced at Deuce who gave a side look at Jack. The Wolf noticed the look but was too concerned with what you were saying. You hadn't yet spoken to anyone outside of the staff and those who were with you that day about the event. Grim didn't like talking about it and even mewled while holding his ears if the subject was ever broached beyond simply mentioning it.

You idly noticed that those who sat at the other tables around your group had hushed considerably. It made you wonder how many ears had perked up to listen the moment you sat down. Even those you had not spoken too prior and only seen in passing had shown interest in you, some students passing by you several times before settling down.

You recognized some were Savanaclaw members, others were from Diasomnia. Even a few members from Heartslabyul were huddled around the tables nearest to you. It was hard not to be acutely aware of the presence of students around you. Unfortunately, you recognized that your entire week would be similar for the fact you had to stay in Savanaclaw with Leona due to the upcoming event.

"That day-"

"No!"

Grim let out a whimpering mew, holding his ears down and closing his eyes. You were quick to scoop up the little kit and cuddle him, his body shaking in stress even as you gently wrapped him in your school uniform jacket. He stopped shaking but still seemed stressed as you sighed and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"I won't talk about it here, far too many ears listening in. Regardless, I'm told the one who orchestrated the whole thing has already been sentenced."

"Oh yeah," Deuce quickly changed topic, tilting his head curiously as his goat ears angled back slightly, "Housewarden Riddle said it was a Huoshu scientist from the Queendom of Roses. The law protecting Humans may be old, but it is clearly still enforced and it is strict. It leaves very little room for uncertainty on punishment and many consider it harsh."

"I'm going to guess it has something to do with decapitation?"

"H-how did you guess?"

"... Riddle's favorite line is 'Off With Your Head' and he had to get it from somewhere. Why not from the Queen he so often represents?"

"I guess that makes sense..."

You hummed and went back to petting Grim as Ace grabbed a head of lettuce, pulling the green leafy plant apart and digging in. As he bit through several layers and Deuce grabbed some of the leaves that fell to the table, you were again reminded of how different these monster men were from you. Not only did they have different manners, but they had such different diets. It made you wonder how you understood them at all or if it was some cosmic joke that they spoke the same language and dialect as you.

During your musings a dark shadow fell over you and your two Goat companions froze, looking over you at whoever stood behind you. Jack growled reflexively on instinct before the sound died in his throat, his reaction telling you the likely identity of the interloper. With a quick glance you saw it was Leona who was grinning down at you in an almost good humored way.

"Stand down, Jack. That's a good boy, but no treat for you."

"Leona," you scolded the arrogant Lion, "don't belittle him like he's some pet. Not okay."

"Sheesh, Mousey, what are you, one of Royal Sword Academy's goons?"

A chorus of hissing and growling came from those sitting around you as it confirmed the other students were listening in. Their response let you know this Royal Sword Academy was not favored in Night Raven College.

"Who?"

"The place Che'nya goes. They're down at the beach line of Sage Island. They're our rival school."

Deuce spoke up, offering a quick answer to your question. You tried to think back on that time after the disastrous Unbirthday Party but most of those memories were blurred and almost foggy.

"Hm... I remember a pink Cat guy with a split tail, but I don't remember much about him beyond how warm he was. Pretty sure I was potioned out on whatever Professor Divus gave to me."

"He's the guy that shielded you from Riddle's magic blast after Trey hit him. He's-"

Leona quickly interjected, basically picking you up out of your seat as you gasped in surprise and turned to hold the Lion. Clearly he was not in the mood for a lesson and his patience had been exceeded.

"That's enough chatting about those goody two-shoes, point is, Night Raven isn't like that and you are here with us, not them. So, act like a Night Raven student."

"Leona, put me down-"

"Nope. You've been studying and being a good little student all day. Were going to the greenhouse to take a nap."

"I have classes-!"

"And I have a nap to get back to. I came all this way just to get you, and I'm not leaving without my favorite little squeaky toy. Got it, Mousey?"

"Leona-"

You squeaked as he turned and began walking, holding you in his arms and not even glancing back at the three freshmen as you called out to them.

"Tell professor Divus I can't come to class because I'm being pupnapped!"

Leona didn't bother with your words as he carried you and Grim out of the cafeteria. True to his word, he seemed to be taking you to the Greenhouse and you vaguely wondered how you were going to deal with the Lion. On top of it all, you wondered how Malleus or the other Housewardens would react to the Lion's brazen behavior.

~•§•~

Deep thunder rolled overhead outside the Diasomnia dorm, cracking with green lightning. The dour prince of Briar Valley watched through his magestone as the Nemean Lion carried the Human away to the Greenhouse. If it were up to him, he would teleport straight there and take his precious treasure away from the problematic Lion. But it wasn't up to him.

He agreed to allow this Lion to guard his most treasured Hoard member, but even then he was not happy with the arrangement. It told the Dragon that he needed to work even harder to befriend the Hellcat kit as it was clear his Human valued the small fur-ball's input. Still, he kept his ears perked for when his treasure called for his aid and he would stay back until that moment... Or until that Lion tried anything more than cuddling.

Malleus was still infuriated to know that his most prized treasure was in the claws of that loose and lazy Lion. Even Lilia had not bothered to berate the Dragon for skipping his classes, well aware that the temperamental Fae was going to spend most of the week watching his prized treasure. From the magestone he inherited, the Dragon watched and waited in constant alert for any sign of extreme discomfort.

~•§•~

You sighed again as the Lion lay his head on your stomach, Little Grim having hesitantly allowed the golden beast to snuggle him. So long as little Grim was content enough with Leona, you wouldn't argue against the Lion's actions. At least the quiet gave you time to think about what steps you were going to take next.

It had become a waiting game for you, to wait until the Human ghosts found you a way home. Until then, you had to keep playing the interests of the monster men to your advantage and make sure you could keep Grim close. If a way out was presented, you would take it and make sure to take your little kit with you.

While you were lost in thought, a specific sound met your ears; sniffing.

The sound reminded you far too much of the Wolves and you felt yourself becoming more stressed as it drew closer. Your sudden stiffness and increased heart-rate did not go unnoticed as Leona's ears began to angle around before pointing the general direction of the sniffing. It was odd as you had believed Leona was sleeping, but you felt thankful that at least it was a Housewarden with you.

As the sound came closer, you heard an accompanying flop sound every so often, like something heavy being dragged. Leona actually sat up, setting Grim- who he had been cuddling- on your stomach and moving so the two of you were behind him and somewhat beneath the overhanging bushes. The Lion stared intensely as a grey muzzle of what could only be described as a squished and oddly noseless Wolf snout parted the reeds on the other side of the path sniffing and snorting loudly. What you thought was a muzzle without a nose quickly became clear when the nostrils of the beast flared above the drawn back lips of a snarling creature. Before you could scream, the plants were thrown to the side and a familiar coated giant seal could be seen, glaring with bright silvery-blue eyes at the Lion.

What surprised you was how immediately terrified Leona had become. This was a man you saw go toe to toe with a pack of Wolves and still manage to triumphantly sneer at them. His fear put you on extreme edge despite the semi-familiar look of the seal.

"... Leona?"

You whimpered out, holding a frightened and silently shaking Grim close to your chest.

Leona was unable to respond as a more than familiar voice growled out.

"You dare take my Pup before she could attend my class? Insolent little Lion!"

The fear worming inside of you melted into complete surprise as you realized just what the identity of the creature before you was. In some respects, you should have known from your own knowledge of the Selkies of your world that Divus would have a seal form. You just didn't expect to see it or the fact that he was enormous compared to most seals.

"GO BACK TO CLASS!"

~•§•~

The rather arduous day had finally come to an end as you stood now in the Savanaclaw dorm kitchen and let the day wind down to the night. The dorm was beautiful and clearly meant to mimic a more savana type setting, which Leona and Ruggie fit into far too easily. Jack stood out among the many sandy-brown and earthen colored pelts, his white snowy fur almost gleaming even in the lower light of the evening.

Divus gave Leona more than just a talking to and actually managed to chase the Lion up a tree. It was almost comical to watch how stressed Leona was in response to the Selkie and you vaguely wondered why a supposedly impervious Lion would be so terrified of a seal out of water. Granted, Divus was far larger in his seal form than he was in his Humanoid form, but it certainly gave more credit to how frightening he actually was.

Now the evening was setting in and you were faced with what they called their kitchen. You honestly hadn't expected much, seeing as none of the monster men needed to cook their food, but this was less than that. It was mostly just a pantry and fridges packed with primarily meat.

There was a place for a fire and the several racks of ribs sitting in one of the large fridges began to form an idea for what you would make. Its was going to be a meat heavy diet until you could take stock of whatever things you grabbed from Ramshackle, but Leona did tell you to use whatever you wanted in their kitchen.

There were more spices than you had expected and you began the long process of cooking up quite a bit of food, figuring you would likely have to feed at least yourself and your guards. Part of you wondered about the other dorm members and you begrudgingly decided to cook more than you planned even for your carnivore guards to eat. It was only to keep the peace as you were certain problems were going to arise from your presence alone.

Speaking of problems, it had been suspiciously quiet all evening. Leona swore to you he was going to keep an eye on Grim while you cooked and even insisted on it. The only thing that convinced you was that Grim wanted to look around the dorm. Still, for a dorm full of students it was suspiciously quiet.

~•§•~

An alluringly warm smell filled the dorm and seemed to turn every nose kitchen bound. It was rare for every member of Savanaclaw to be out all at once for so long, but the smells from the kitchen were near divine and drew in the entire group. Despite the many curious looks, none dare cross the clear threshold established by the leader of their Pride.

The sun bronzed ruler of the dorm lay in a lounging position on a stack of rocks still cooling from the afternoon sun, lazily grooming the little cat beast that sat impatiently in his arms. The ever loyal Gnoll lay directly by the mouth of the kitchen, effectively acting as a door to the delicious scents. Even the new pup Jack- who still had yet to prove himself despite his abilities in magic- somehow sat next to the two defacto leaders of the dorm.

Savanaclaw had no Vice-Housewarden as it needed no Vice-Housewarden, but it was still understood that Ruggie was the next to turn to if Leona was shirking his duties. Then there was Jack. The sophomores couldn't believe Jack of all students was selected. Most of the dorm couldn't believe they were selected at all to play host.

They figured after the way they had been accused and treated when this seemingly mythical Human got shomehow hurt, they would not have to play host. Now, as those sublime scents teased at the imagination and stomachs growled for food, it was hard to imagine such a gift going to another dorm.

Naturally, those playing in the Spelldrive Tournament were expecting the chance to get a taste of the divine smell, but the others were going to be left longing for scraps. Despite how some whined, hissed, and even growled, none had the courage to challenge the King of their pride.

Beyond just the smell of the food, the smell of the Human on Jack had drawn in many curious noses. The moment he returned was the moment several students began sniffing at his white fur. Jack was unaccustomed to such behavior from his dormmates as most just did the typical testing the new members and even fought from time to time all in good fun. This was different.

Still, so long as he was a guard he could handle the more than intrusive behavior. It was worth it to Jack. That being said, everyone was more than a little surprised at the almost sagely patience shown by the great Lion.

"But when?"

"Whenever she's done."

"When will that be?"

"Whenever it is."

"But I want it to be now."

"She's busy right now."

Grim was whining and asking questions he had already asked five times while Leona smoothed the kit's fur. Admittedly, Grim was being incredibly tolerant of the grooming behavior and it was just enough to keep Leona calm even with the questions. The other members of the dorm were stunned Leona was even tolerating the small cat-beast's presence especially with how irritating he was being.

"But why?"

"You said you wanted to look around the dorm."

"But I thought I was gonna go right back to Mama after."

"You should have clarified."

"But I want to go back to Mama."

"She's busy right now."

"How much longer?"

"As long as it needs to be."

"I don't want a bath!"

"Sucks for you. Only clean cubs get food."

"... How much longer?"

~•§•~

You sat looking out over what seemed to be an endless savana that stretched out beyond what you could see. In your lap sat a full bellied Grim who purred and lay in your affectionate arms. From what you could tell when the food finally finished and the near ravenous stares of the many students looking at the food in extreme longing, you were in for a long week.

Leona only allowed a select few to eat their fill, obviously including Ruggie and Jack, but four others you hadn't met were allowed as well. Naturally you and Grim were able to take whatever you wished and Leona made it clear to even Ruggie that you two got your food first. It threw you off a bit when- as soon as that first group had their fill- the rest was set out and descended upon by the remaining members of the dorm.

The way they ate was as if they all had been starving, yet none of them looked even close to how Ruggie had appeared when you first arrived at the school. You figured they just liked the way that the food had smelled while cooking and wanted to eat their fill. Despite the almost aggressive behavior they showed one another, none were willing to take even a sniff in your direction. Any that glanced at you were quickly sent scurrying off by Leona who glared poisonously from next to you.

Now you were winding down and sitting in Leona's room, his large bed sporting an assortment of pillows as it almost reminded you of the way a cat-bed from your world was built. You figured you would be in Leona's room, Ruggie and Jack moving blankets in as well despite Leona's grumbling about not inviting them. Your hand idly fidgeted with the magestone that hung from your neck as you found yourself surprisingly missing the overbearing Dragon and the usual faces of the Hoard.

"Oi, Mousey, get to bed. We've gotta get up early tomorrow to train for the Spelldrive, so you're getting up too. Got it?"

You looked back at Leona who was laying on his bed, tail flicking impatiently to get you to join him. It was a little odd that he expected you to join him but refused to let Jack and Ruggie. Maybe it had something to do with Nemean Lions and how they socially behaved. With a soft sigh, you carried Grim to the bed, keeping a fair distance from the Lion despite his scowl.

"You gonna cling to the edge of the bed like a frightened mouse, shivering in the cold, or are you going to come over here already?"

"Wha-?"

You gasped as Leona pulled you down to lay next to him, wrapping one muscled arm over your side and pulling the blankets up over you and Grim. He was fairly warm and the temperature in the dorm had dropped drastically with the sun, so you could tolerate his almost aggressive cuddling. In the distance, you could have sworn you heard the sound of rolling thunder.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #humans are extinct twst au

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mynameisjag · 3 months ago

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Prompt: Ghost are still considered non-sentient, which leads to people playing Pokémon with the ghost and unfortunately for Danny, he's basically a legendary with some high stats and it was only time before someone was able to snatch him up.

Ghost being more beasty or ethereal looking, they communicate through Ghost speak which just sounds like hisses/growls to other species. Danny looks like a Naga and communicates like one.

Warning: The Bats treating Phantom like a wild newly discovered creature species. Scientific discussions about his body in front of him, discussions about Ghosts possibly being able to breed because in Phantom form, Danny is duel gendered.

“How!?”

“Jealous?”, Jason watched in amusement as the youngest in the family fumed and stomped around, the kid honestly looked like an angry kitten. Not his fault he managed to snag the Ghost before the rest of them, besides it was in his Alley, so he had rights to it anyway.

Didn’t stop Damian from glaring and huffing about it being unfair, everyone else was either ignoring them or just rolling their eyes in expiration.

Not that he could blame the kid, catching Phantom was basically hitting the lottery, the Ghost was on the top of the list of most wanted. There were videos, essays, debates, everything on them from species type, to power sets, possible weaknesses, likely Obsessions…and Jason caught them. He pinned them down and snapped the collar on as soon as he saw who exactly was haunting his territory.

Currently Phantom was going through an observation…okay, they were currently being poked at by Tim and Bruce, the Replacement eagerly jotting down things he found or didn’t find, treating procedure like a puzzle.

The Ghost was curled up in the observation table, currently wrapped up in a snake like tail instead of legs, giving off Naga vibes that included hissing and snapping teeth in mock bites.

There was no real threat behind the actions considering the poor things condition, whatever or whoever had tried to catch the feral beastie did a number on them before Jason was able to snatch them for his own.

No matter, Jason took care of his things and he’ll have his new companion looking all shiny and pretty before long.

Dick was lazily spinning in Bruce’s computer chair, legs hanging askew, “Sooo, how are going to register them? Can’t exactly put down Red Hood in the Owner’s signature?”

“Going to go with the ‘Jason Todd and Red Hood being “secret” partners route’, as far as the docs will show, Phantom got caught by Hood in his territory and made a lovely gift to the Alley’s biggest supporter.”

“Nice.”

A silent agreeable silence passed between them as everything started to truly settle for the night.

Phantom was still hissing as Tim held out a device to scan over the Ghost, “Mostly exhaustion, energy drained, malnutrition, probably due to being on the run and unable to get a proper meal. Oh, congratulations, it’s a…hermaphrodite…huh…”

Bruce just hummed in response, taking the device from his son, “Not unusual, there have been reported cases of similar body formations, if you look here in this area, this is very close in resemblance to that of snakes cloaca, given how its been recorded of their ability to shift from tail to legs, it’s a high probability that there is an external and internal shift to match the forms and still keep the functionality of both genitalia.”

“So…wait! That means they can breed! Which means other Ghosts that are similar can too! Which means there are natural born Ghosts?”

“Ghost is only a common used term, coined by the Fentons, real ghosts like Deadman aren’t like these creatures, and given how terrible the Fentons research was…we are unable to fully understand most habits and causes of the species.”

Tim reached back for the scanner, eyes scrolling over the details in excited glee, beings that were basically unknown, improbably recorded, a huge mystery with smaller mysteries within, “I’m going to compare these scans with known species of reptiles, might get a standard bar of health in comparison and possible hints at behavior.”

Another hum came from the Dark Knight, focus turning to watching the youngest move his way in between him and Tim, Damian had came back dressed in civilian clothes and was holding an apple out to the Ghost, “I have brought you a treat.”

They all watched as Phantom hesitated, hissing slowly dissipating as it takes in the fruit, a clawed hand reaching out to take it, sniffing it before taking a small bite.

“So can eat fruit? Can they all eat fruit or just Phantom?”

“Hush, Drake, your voice is grating and might cause them to lash out in hopes of peaceful silence.”

“Excuse you!”

The two continued to bicker, the creature on the examination table just steadily continued eating, bright pure green eyes watching them before taking in the room.

Dick made an attention whistle at Jason, nodding at the way the Ghost was eyeing possible exits, his brother just shrugged in response.

With that collar, there wasn’t any place the other could hide without a Bat knowing exactly where they were.

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #fanfic prompt #tried to go for 'uncomfortably dark' prompt this time #prompt up for grabs #Ghost being treated like Pokémon #Danny gets stuck in this form and is in it now

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thisapplepielife · 3 months ago

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Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo.

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two.

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way.

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new.

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding.

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down."

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself.

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur.

He'd like to pet him.

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it.

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes.

They almost glow out here in the moonlight.

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign.

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now?

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled.

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog?

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous."

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight.

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure.

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf.

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal.

"Can I pet you?"

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly.

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair.

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep.

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf.

Hot damn.

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him.

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf.

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion.

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go.

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls.

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes.

And then it looks sad. Goddammit.

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him?

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time.

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur.

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further.

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer.

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is.

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake.

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees.

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?"

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong.

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive."

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub.

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1."

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster.

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused.

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket.

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure.

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you."

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg.

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen.

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him.

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows.

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson."

"All the lap sitting says otherwise."

"I've never sat on your lap!"

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information."

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key.

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him.

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down.

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet."

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt.

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry."

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient.

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious.

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow.

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead.

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed.

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes.

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all.

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was.

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves."

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods.

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest.

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf.

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines.

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises.

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie.

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?"

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this.

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would.

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out.

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm.

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions.

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future.

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next.

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position.

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life.

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

#steddiespooktober #prompt: werewolf #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: spooktober

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yan-randomfandom · 3 months ago

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Yandere!Stanford Pines & Borrower!GN!Reader

[PLATONIC] Borrowers are really tiny humans who "borrow" items and food! requested,,, am so sorry if this isn't what u expected 😔

Ford's toothbrush is missing.

In fact, many of his things have gone missing for the past few days. Did Bill possess his body again and decide to prank him?

His eyes catch color behind the toilet. Ah, there's his toothbrush. It must have fallen off.

When he picked it up, it was much heavier than usual. Of course, anything else could've been a reasonable explanation and not some tiny human holding onto the toothbrush for their dear life.

Ford doesn't let you escape, immediately bringing you to his office. You spit out profanities on the way, banging your fists on his fingers.

"Fascinating," he mutters, moving your limbs around. "You're just a tiny human."

"They call us borrowers," you say as you keep avoiding his hands. You notice something. "You have six fingers. Did giants always have that? Never noticed."

He suddenly feels smaller than you. "Not usually."

Ford learned that you actually lived under his floorboards. He had to compromise with you so that you would stop stealing his stuff.

"Roommates?" you tilt your head. "As long as you don't kill me, I guess. And I said I was going to return it!"

He doesn't believe you. He hums, scratching his chin. "Your species must have been hit by the light of height-altering crystals. I'm guessing the way your people survive is by stealing from others."

"Borrowing."

He gave you all sorts of delicious food. Well, they're mostly store-bought, but it's better than anything you've gotten before.

Not to mention his stuff. He had way more than what you were expecting. All the more to decorate your house and expand your collections! He's generous; you'll give him that...

There's something you can't shake off though. Ford's a weirdo if anything.

Bill Cipher knows about you. But he doesn't really care because you're just like any other creature that Ford has gotten. He'll only intervene if you manage to distract Ford from the portal.

So it's a good thing you're doing the opposite. You're actually helping in your own little ways, such as bringing him pen and paper.

Sitting on Ford's shoulder, you keep yapping about rats eating your house. He doesn't mind the noise, albeit he's not really listening, but it's so much better than silence.

He has fallen asleep. You grab the blanket from a nearby table and drape it over his body the best you can. This man does more work than your entire lifespan; it's so concerning.

"You don't want to try becoming a full-sized human? Why not?" Ford asks sincerely, almost concerned. You becoming not tiny is what you were supposed to be.

"Me? Turning into your size?" you make a disturbed face, "no thanks. I feel like my life would be more complicated. You're taking care of me, and that's enough."

He smiles. "Interesting."

Once again, you find him asleep on the desk. You search for a good spot next to his arm and curl up to his warmth, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

...You wake up to relentless movement. Looking up, you meet Ford's crazed, hectic eyes.

"You," he exhales, his voice sounding different. "Not here to steal my eyes, are you?"

Without warning, he grabs your body. You tremble. "Bill didn't tell you to, right? You're the perfect size to scoop out someone's eye..."

"Ford—" A bright flashlight shines on your eyes.

He forces one eye open. A few seconds pass. "You're, ah, clear. I'm so sorry."

The human finally lets you go. "What the hell was that?! Are you okay??"

"There's something dangerous here," he winces as he goes around the room, locking all possible entrances. "We have to stop everything we've ever worked for! What I worked for!"

He walks over to you, a smile curling on his lips. "Don't worry. I'll protect you, little borrower. Won't let him lay a single finger on you."

Before you could even blink, you're pushed inside something. You quickly run to the front, holding the bars that kept you away from escaping. "Wait, let me go! You're being crazy!"

"I know this seems bad, but it's only temporary," he replies, locking your cage. "Not until I finish the protection around the house. I'll have to call Stan..."

yes he has cages.... he caged shmebulock 😭

gotta thank @shabbyshoebox for this treasure (tell me if u wanna be untagged!)

#yanyan headcanons #yandere gravity falls x reader #yandere gravity falls #yandere #yandere stanford pines #yandere stanford Pines x reader

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year ago

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Humans are weird: Dogs

Alien: Why did you take me to here? Alien: You know I hate being outside. Human: How else would I get you to the greatest place on the planet? Alien: *About to ask question when sudden noise distracts them* Alien: *Reads sign on nearby post* Alien: What is a “Dog Park”? ----------------------------- Human: Unlike cats, dogs are man’s true best friend. Alien: And why is that? Human: Because they won’t brutally maim you if you pet them too long. -----------------------------

Alien: What does one do with their dog? Human: Play fetch mostly. Alien: What is fetch? Human: *Picks up ball and throws it* *Nearest dog sprints after it and brings it back* Alien: That’s it? Human: No; now comes the difficult part. Alien: Which is? Human: Trying to get the ball back. ---------------------------

Alien: Aren’t these creatures expensive to maintain? Human: Medical wise they are about the same as cats. Human: Entertainment wise they are much cheaper. Alien: How so? Human: *Picks up nearby stick and wobbles it around* *Golden retriever stops what it was doing and focuses on stick* *Tail begins wagging at turbo speed and they hunch down on two legs with their back legs up* Human: *Hands stick to alien friend* Now you try. Alien: Really? Alien: You think this will- Alien: *Notices dog now focusing entirely on him as he wobbles stick* Alien: Oh my gods…. Human: I know right? Alien: I have become their god now. ----------------------------

Alien: Do they have any weaknesses? Human: Don’t put a mirror in front of them. Alien: What happens if you do? *Pair turns as a dog begins loudly barking* *Pair see a dog barking aggressively at its own reflection* Human: Because of that. Alien: That doesn’t seem so- *Dog leaps at mirror and bonks its head* Human: See? Alien: Question withdrawn. -----------------------

Alien: May I try walking one of these dogs? Human: Are you sure? Human: You’ll need upper arm strength to restrain them if they get excited. Alien: *Looks down at tiny little corgi* Alien: I think I can handle them. *Chuckles* Human: Alright. *Hands leash over* Alien: *Begins walking dog around park* Alien: I don’t know what they were talking about. Alien: This is easy. *Random squirrel runs past corgi and Corgi chases after it* Alien: *Violently thrown to ground by sudden pull and dragged across the dog park* Human: *Watching his alien friend swear in his native language* I’d feel sorry over this, but I warned them so it’s okay to be funny. -------------------------

Alien: *Finally gets free of corgi leash and picks themselves off the ground* Alien: What…*Gasp* the….*double gasp* florp! Alien: How was that tiny creature so strong?! Human: The tiny ones are the most energetic. Human: The big ones are the giant babies of the species. Alien: How does that make any sense at all? Human: *Takes alien by the face and directs their gaze down at excited pitbull8 Human: Look at that smooshy face! Human: Nothing has to make sense when you look at that cute stupid smooshy face! -------------------------

*Dog comes up at starts nuzzling alien* Alien: Ah; you are an adorable creature. *picks up dog and cradles it like a baby* Alien: *Starts rubbing its belly* Human: *Notices and comes over* Human: I’m glad you’re starting to warm up to them. Alien: *Nods* They are enjoyable after a period. Human: Just as an FYI, that’s a Pug and when they’re on their back they can’t breathe. Alien: WHAT!? Alien: *Immediately puts dog down and it gasps several times* Alien: I didn’t….you mustn't think I would.. Human: Just wait a sec. *Alien watches pug take several more deep breaths before looking up at him and starts wagging tail again.* Alien: They are not very smart, are they? Human: We call that their “Derp” factor. ------------------------------

Human: Hey Greg. Human 2: Yo. Alien: What are you doing? Human 2: Playing “Hide and go seek” with my dog Burt. Alien: *Begins looking around* Where is this- *sees Burt standing behind bench poorly hid* Alien: I can see- Human 2: Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh. Human 2: Don’t make eye contact. Alien: Why not? Human 2: Because you need to wait five minutes searching the entire park before you find him; it makes him feel like a really good boi. Alien: But why not just- *Human 2 leans in close* Human 2: So help me if you look at him before those five minutes are up and make him sad I will hit you with my car. Alien: Wait what!? Alien: You can’t be serious! Human: *nods* Dog people take their pets happiness very seriously. Alien: But to hit someone with a car? Human: *Shrugs* I once shot a guy for throwing an empty soda can at my little bugger. Alien: You take your dog’s very…..seriously, I see. Human: Is there any other way?

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #scifi #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #funny #dogs

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scifimademequeer · 3 months ago

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Vulcan Tails

I'm not sure if it's known which fan "invented" Spock's tail, but in a nearly 60 year old fandom the actual pioneer is probably lost. I've been influenced by a ton of fan artists, notably shigeoreum here on tumblr and on twitter. They look very long and flexible, possibly prehensile, and end in a tuft of hair.

I've also seen the other obvious tail for Vulcans, a bifurcated tail like a demon, which is also cute but not my headcanon. From here on I'm just talking about my headcanons but I'm open to feedback/comments/questions lol. I just want to organize my thots

I really dig the imagery of a humanoid able to wrap their tail around their own waist semi-neatly. I think for most Vulcans this is the equivalent of poker face or maintaining composure, and in some formal clothing the tail is actually meant to be worn this way the entire time. It conveys several different attitudes depending on context, such as professionalism, objectivity, modesty, humility, etc.

And on the flip side, when the tail is "out" it is only mostly voluntarily controlled. It reacts to stimuli and emotions automatically and Vulcans work to control it as they mature the same way they discipline their own facial expressions and other bodily functions.

I think Surak had a docked/destroyed tail. Perhaps it was symbolic or a literal result of his outsider status. The tail could be your connection to your family line or community and when you are ostracized, it is literally cut.

This resulted in modern Surakians using the docked tail to signify the ultimate devotion to logic. And with the ritual of Kohlinar, the two meanings collide: a Kohlinar adept has achieved both perfect logic and perfect independence from their community. Your tail and your emotions are severed from you.

Along this same line, the tail is an instinctive object of interest for infants and small children. Many start walking as they hold onto their parent's tail. This could help a touch telepathy bond be maintained between children and caregivers while letting the caregivers use their hands freely.

I've read really interesting stuff about hunter/gatherer communities where babies almost never cry because they are in constant tactile contact with other people, including older children. They develop a tactile language before a verbal one and have all their needs for comfort met immediately. Sounds like how touch telepathy might work, or develop in a species.

A Vulcan in extreme distress might comfort themselves by stroking or holding their own tail. They may even comfort one another this way, or soothe a child by giving them an adult's tail to stroke. The equivalent gestures among humans might be rocking back and forth or hugging yourself.

The tail is prehensile to a certain degree but cannot lift heavy objects or ones that are too small to grip. The primary use of the tail is communication, it wants to wrap around the bodies of others as well as the Vulcan's own body. And remember that you can't pull on tails too hard because they're attached to the spine. Vulcans should have pretty well developed lower back muscles to wield this tail, I think

I have cats so I'm biased but I think the gestures are a blend between a cat's and a monkey's. Cats tails tremble, curve, lash, shake, whip, and wag to portray different emotions.

I'm writing a wedding fic and I realized that the children at the wedding would have bells and ribbons tied to the ends of their tails. But this would be seen as cringe on an adolescent or adult.

I think as far as touch telepathy goes it makes no sense for tails to be as telepathic as the hands, face, or genitals. BUT I would think that the skin of the tail IS somewhat sensitive. So, going back to the children touching a caregiver's tail, I think a Vulcan can naturally "sense" with their hands and attune to anywhere on a person's body that is ennervated. The tail is just very convenient and has developed to be a little receptive to telepathic touch, but not wield it as the hands do.

So the connotations of touching another adult's tail would be non-sexual intimacy and comfort. Maybe depending on how Surakian you are, or if you are in private, casual touching of tails is normal between friends and family members. It helps you coregulate to do so. Not only putting your hands on your friend's tail but putting your tail on their body. Maybe even wacking them with it to be annoying, I could see that as a sibling activity for sure.

#heavybraid #vulcans

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feyreswaterybowels · 9 months ago

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#1 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Velaris was home to many pleasure houses but when the high lord learns the owners of these houses aren’t abiding bu long reigning laws he and his inner circle steps in—in the process taking in an Illyrian female that had been abused and tormented.

Warnings/Tags: mute character. slow burn romance. trauma. sexual abuse. found family. building romance/trust after trauma. violence. strong female character. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All likes, re blogs and comments are welcome, appreciated and highly encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

The smell of smoke was thick in the air. The floor was wet, the air moist and chilled. The building Azriel and Cassian just entered was one of the many pleasure houses in Velaris. This was no ordinary visit for pleasure. No. They were on a mission per their High Lord’s command.

The Velvet Pearl was a pleasure house where those who entered could pay for sexual services. Men and women alike were welcome and the Pearl was known to have anything a person was looking for—whether that be a specific species, body type, hair color, skin color or a specific act. It could all be found here. The Mistresses made it their job to comb through the streets looking for those who would enjoy the work.

That’s what led their mission here tonight. Pleasure houses are no secret in Velaris. They are out in the open. There can be one found for many vices. Gambling, dancing, drinking and of course sex. There aren’t many rules for these houses by the High Lords command, but a big one had been broken recently.

Consent.

The law of consent in these pleasure houses is major, one of the most important to the High Lord, Rhysand, and the ones before him. One cannot force another to drink. One cannot force another to gamble. Once cannot force another into sexual acts. Any person visiting or working at these establishments must be there of their own free will.

With the pleasure houses specifically this rule had been broken when one of Azriel’s spies fled into Rhysand office, informing him of many pleasure houses buying fae citizens off of families who needed money. The high lord was shocked, they hadn’t had any issues like this in centuries. He immediately summoned his inner circle looking to them for advice.

That’s how Azriel and Cassian ended up here now. They, and a few other soldiers, were to patrol the pleasure houses for the next few night. Look and listen for any signs that confirm the information given to them.

The Velvet Pearl was a very niche business. A large luxurious building, mirrors lined the outside walls reflecting the beauty of Velaris on the outside. The inside however was lined and decorated in blacks, red, green and golds. The lights were low and colorful. A huge bar with various types of wines, liquors, spirits and beers. They always had heavy music playing. Poles and stages for the workers to dance on. On the upper most floors were doors lining the walls. Private rooms that could be paid for and used for the services.

However, the luxury ended when one entered the Dungeon as they called it. A fitting name for the place they had just entered. The place where one picked their partner for the night. Caged cells lined the room and sat atop one another zig-zagging around the room like a maze. Males and females, mostly lesser fae but some high fae as well, a few different species. All naked. All pressed against the bars of their enclosures. Heavy lidded eyes trained on the two massive Illyrian warriors before them. Reaching out to touch, but not actually touching, they all knew better than to touch anyone who doesn’t explicitly ask for it. Some of them, however, touched one another through the bars, enticing a buyer to take them both for the night.

“I’m really good at wing play, I’ll make you cum in less than a minute,” A pretty fae, purred. Lesser fae Azriel noted, long dark hair curled around her perky breasts, skin a dark blue with eyes to match. She was definitely attractive.

“Sorry, I prefer it to last a little longer than that,” Cassian winked at her, getting a giggle in return. Azriel rolled his eyes but a barely there grin that only his brother would notice played on his lips.

They continued on. Looking at every fae in the room. Analyzing them, reading their body language making sure they truly wanted to be here. These fae, as they should, all seem to love their job. That’s how it should be. It’s when they got to the end of the line, nearly out of the room that things took a turn.

A cell that was previously empty was now occupied by a female and a mistress—mistresses only accompanied new workers. A snap echoed through the space and the two warriors shared a look before walking over. Both hiding their shock at the sight in front of them.

There pressed against the back of the cage was a female, not just any female though. Her eyes were wide as she watched them approach. Eyes scanning their wings, siphons and weapons. Pushing herself into the corner and trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. Another snap echoed, her hands dropping to the side as she cried out when the mistress struck her thigh again.

“No need for that,” Azriel growled. His shadows raced around him, curling around his ear to whisper to him.

Glamor. The female is glamored. They hiss.

He gave Cassian a side eye before locking eyes with the mistress.

“Remove her glamor,” Azriel ordered. The mistress blanched, eyes wide in shock.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do we need to tell Thane you don’t know how to follow orders?” Cassian snarled. She gave a meek head shake.

“As you wish,” She said before waving her hand, the glamor shimmering away leaving both men there shocked at the sight in front of them.

Azriel heard Cassian's intake of breath. Hidden behind that glamor was a pair of Illyrian wings, bound behind her in a way that was obviously very uncomfortable with the way they twitched and shifted in their bindings.

“Remove her binding as well. Do you know what can happen to Illyrian wings if they stay bound like that?” Cassian said, arms crossing over his chest in an attempt to not rip the bars from the cage. The bound female looks between the two men, cautious and weary as the Mistress narrows her eyes.

“She’s unclipped and doesn’t know how to control them. We bound them so she doesn’t hurt herself or someone else,” the Mistress explained, but it wasn’t the right answer to give.

“Unbind her now,” Azriel ordered, his voice a booming echo in the room, it was not a question. The Mistress understood that tone, turning to the female, grabbing her roughly and turning her. She cut the rope and the wings instantly sagged, finding relief outside of the bindings.

“See, she can’t even hold them up,” the Mistress snapped, pushing the female back against the wall.

“She can’t hold them up because the muscles have been weakened due to lack of use caused by binding them,” Cassin snarled right back, satisfaction coiling in him at the way she flinched away. “How the hell did you acquire an Illyrian female without even knowing anything of their basic anatomy?”

The Mistress glared at him again. “She was sold to us unsullied by a third party. Half Illyrian, half high fae. Her father gambled away all of their money, he was in debt and sold his daughter off to pay his debts.”

“The purchasing of females to work in pleasure houses is illegal. You are in direct violation of breaking that law,” Azriel spoke, staring the woman down. “Open the cage. She’s coming with us.”

The cage opens and Cassian gestures for the mistress to exit the space. She looks at the female before reluctantly stepping out. Azriel steps but keeps his distance.

“I’m Azriel. What is your name?” He asked, catching her green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim lights.

“Don’t bother. She’s had her tongue removed,” the Mistress answered, mouth snapping shut when Cassian’s head snapped in her direction.

Azriel growls low in his throat, but stops himself when he catches the look on the female's face in front of him. Terrified. She was absolutely terrified.

“It’s okay,” he offered softly, stepping further into the cage “cover yourself.”

She looked at him skeptically. Weary. Cautious. She glances at the stick the mistress leaned against the wall then down at her red streaked, bruised thighs. She was scared he was going to hit her if she covered herself. He silently ordered one of his shadows to remove the stick from the room. Rhysand would definitely be hearing about that.

“No further harm will come to you, please, cover yourself,” Azriel soothed, shifting so she was out of view of the horrible Mistress behind him.

She watched him for a second before she dropped her head down and slowly folded her wings around herself, effectively covering her body.

“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked, watching her brows furrow. “Don’t be scared. I need to touch you but I’m only going to wrap my arm around you okay?”

The female was hesitant, but took a step forward. Those two men were terrifying, but they never looked away from her face unlike every other male who only stared at her body. Maybe wherever they were going to take her would be better than this place.

Azriel outstretched his hand, watched her eyes track the movement and take in his scars and siphons. Though she still seemed terrified she shifted in a way that he could easily wrap his arm around her back.

“You’re coming with us, too,” Cassian snarls to the Mistress, grabbing her before slapping his hand down onto Azriel’s shoulder.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

One minute they were standing in the pleasure house then the next there was nothing but swirling darkness. She clung to Azriel, somehow finding comfort in the arm wrapped securely around her.

When things came back into view the first thing she noticed were the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she saw the sky. Only she hadn’t been able to focus on it long, realizing they weren’t on a flat surface they were in the air and…falling.

A scream threatened to escape from her lips but that arm tightened around her and they were no longer falling but gliding lower and lower until they swooped through a window. She couldn’t really tell where she was at but as soon as her feet hit the ground she collapsed into herself. She pulled her knees to her chest inside of her winged cacoon, pushing her forehead against them and willing the sickness in her stomach to go away.

She didn’t look up at the sounds of a struggle, trying to ignore the grunting growls of a male who had just been slapped before the high pitched voice demanded, “Let me go! Take your hands off of me, you have no right!”

And she had been too scared to look up when she heard a booming voice that seemed to shake the very ground she was clinging to.

“He had every right,” is what that booming voice said, commanding silence from everyone in the room.

The silence was deafening.

She heard the sound of heels clicking, closer then further away then back in her direction again. She still didn’t look up. Not when she felt those heels next to her, or when the person wearing them wrapped something warm around her.

“My High Lord, please—”

“Take her to a cell,” That voice ordered again, not as loud but just as commanding and for a moment she thought they were talking about her.

She was about to beg. Don’t make me go. Please. Please, don’t take me to another cell!

It was only when she heard the other female, the Mistress, struggling again that she realized he wasn’t talking about her. He wasn’t locking her away…not yet anyway. When the struggling stopped and the shouts could no longer be heard. That’s when she looked up.

Her eyes instantly met dark violet. He looked similar to the other two males…golden tanned skin, dark hair, tall, but no wings. Unless they were hidden like hers had been.

“My name is Rhysand. What’s your name?” The voice asked, soothing almost, easing the tension from her shoulders.

“She can’t speak, Rhy,” the male from earlier, Azriel spoke. “They cut her tongue out.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside her and she remembers someone had been beside her. She looks up, taking in the heels, red silk top, blonde hair curled, and a pair of deep brown eyes on a beautiful face.

There is sadness in those eyes, etched in her flawless face and she has to look away. The anger flashing in those violet eyes isn’t much easier to look at.

“If I get you a pen and paper can you write?” He asked, again that voice soothing her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She shook her head.

Her father never taught them to read or write. They had no need for either being locked in that basement…that dark, cold, terrifying basement—

The male, Rhysand as he’d been called, frowns. Looking towards Azriel as if they were having a silent conversation before his eyes fall on her again and he takes a step forward, crouching down so they were eye level.

“I’m a daemati. Do you know what that is?” Rhysand asked. She shook her head again. “It means I can see and enter into people’s minds. Like this—hello, my name is Rhysand.”

Her eyes widen as that voice echoes in her head. What is happening right now? She meets Rhysand’s eyes, mouth falling open slightly. “You can hear me, too?”

“I can,” he responded out loud. “May we have the pleasure of knowing your name, sweetheart?”

She thought for a moment. No one had asked her for her name. They called her a lot of things…but never her name. She swallowed thickly, cleared her throat and nodded slowly.

“Cassandra. My name is Cassandra.” She answered, watching a warm smile come over his face as he stood and took the last few steps, offering his hand to her.

She doesn’t hesitate, placing her hand in his and allows him to gently pull her to her feet. She glances in the direction of Azriel and the pretty blonde just as the other male from before enters the room.

He shares that same look with Rhysand, like they’re communicating silently and now she knows that’s most likely the case. Rhysand dips his head in answer to whatever was said.

“Let me properly introduce you,” He says, gesturing to the three people in the room with them. “This is Azriel, Cassian and Morrigan. Everyone, this is Cassandra.”

Her heart skips in her chest. She hadn’t realized that it could feel so nice just to hear someone say her name. She gives Rhysand a small grateful look, hoping he understood what it means. He just gave her a single nod.

“Cassandra, you are officially under the protection of the night court,” Rhysand said, as she stood there staring at him. She felt something in her mind, like an opening and assumed it must be him waiting to see if she needed to say something.

“High Lord?” Cassandra asked and he nodded though he looked confused.

“Yes, I’m a high lord. Do you know what that is?” he asked. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders meekly. The four of them share a look and it makes her want to drop back down into her cocoon and hide. “We can do a run down of titles and histories later. I am High Lord of Velaris, I rule this city and all of the people in it. Cassian is the commander of my armies. Azriel is my spy master. And Morrigan is my third in command as well as my cousin.”

Cassandra stands there. Everything coming from his mouth sounded foreign as if he was speaking another language. She nodded her head but it was more than obvious she didn’t really understand.

“Morrigan will escort you to your room—”

“Room? Not cell?” She asked surprised, not meaning to cut him off.

“You are not a prisoner, Cassandra. So, no, you won’t be sleeping in a cell. You will have your own room and you can do as you please,” Rhysand promised. “I have two amazing females, Nuala and Cerridwen that will tend to you. I would also like you to know I’ve placed a special ward on your room. No male will be allowed to enter your room, not even me unless you specifically invite them in. I want you to feel safe here. No one will lay a hand on you again without your permission. Not here. Not anywhere. Not ever again.”

Cassandra isn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do. No one, not even her own family has ever been this kind or considerate of her. She feels the tears in her eyes as she looks at him.

“Thank you.” Is all she can manage.

“There’s no need to thank me,” He shakes his head. Genuine. Sincere. There’s no trick behind his kindness. “Nuala and Cerridwen will take care of you, if you need anything ask them and they’ll get it for you. Once you feel comfortable and settled please come join us for dinner if you’re hungry. Do you need any special foods?”

“No…just soft foods. If there’s meat it just has to be small,” She answered, not wanting to show how special it felt that he asked that question silently.

“Not a problem at all,” Rhysand promised, giving her a small smile before waving Morrigan back over.

“Come, you’ll be right through here,” the beautiful female speaks, her voice smooth and warm. It reminded Cassandra of her mother.

Cassandra gave a small head nod before following Morrigan. The stone floors cold under her bare feet as she pulled the cover tighter around herself. The large, wooden double doors opened seemingly on their own accord. Cassandra looked back, locking eyes with Azriel, that male with the shadows, for a moment before they turned out of the room.

They walked down the hall in what Cassandra could only describe as comfortable silence. It gave her time to take in the beautiful home that seemed to be carved from…stone? Accented by wood and golden lights.

Cassandra slowed when they passed a particularly beautiful painting that caught her eye. The click of Morrigan’s heels slowed as well. The painting was of a large city, glow lights, and a bright river all at the base of a beautiful huge mountain. She scanned the painting. It felt so warm and inviting just like this home and the people in it.

“That’s Velaris,” Morrigan says from behind her. “Have you ever seen the city?”

Cassandra’s eyes stay on the painting and shakes her head. She hears the other female swallow thickly but still can’t tear her eyes from the beautiful painting.

“This is the city, it holds houses and businesses,” Morrigan begins pointing at the painting and tracing around the area she was talking about before moving to the brightest, most colorful part of the painting. “This is what we like to call the Rainbow. It’s where our artists of all kinds live. I like to go there to eat the music, it’s home to the best pastries, too! This here is the Sidra River, it’s sparkling blue in the daytime and winds all the way through Velaris. And this is where we are. We call it the House of Wind.”

Cassandra’s jaw drops a little when Morrigan points to the mountain, to the house carved in it. She looks around then back at the painting. Beautiful.

“One day, when you’re feeling up to it, you and I could have a girls day in the city. Just me and you. And I could show you all of the best shops, we could walk along the Sidra, you’ll love it. But only when you’re ready!” She clarified and Cassandra finally looked at her hearing the excitement in her voice.

“I don’t have many female friends and I can only have so much fun with those males,” She said, a smile stretching her red painted lips.

Cassandra tried to return the smile but she was sure it didn’t look genuine, she liked the idea of being…friends with Morrigan. But she didn’t know what all that entailed. Would Morrigan expect things of her if they became friends? Like those girls at the pleasure house?

“Come let’s get you to your room,” Morrigan cut through her thoughts and Cassandra offered a small nod before following once again.

Two more turns and a flight of stairs got them to where they were going. Two beautiful females stood outside an open door, dark skin with eyes and hair to match.

“Nuala and Cerridwen,” Morrigan motioned to each female, “this is Cassandra. Please, help her get cleaned up, changed and settled in. Cassandra, once you're settled, like Rhys said, please, consider coming to join us for dinner.”

Morrigan offers a smile before turning away. Cassandra’s hand shoots out to grab her wrist, to stop her, only to realize what she’d done and let go immediately, stumbling back a step.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Morrigan soothed, reaching out to steady her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

A jerky head nod was the answer she got.

“Alright, come,” She breathed softly, walking in the room first and waiting patiently for Cassandra.

When she entered the room her mouth fell open at how large it was. Situated in the middle of one wall was a huge bed—so huge she was sure she could lay on it, stretch her wigs out as far as they would go and still have room to spare. The covers were white and looked so fluffy. There were glowing lights all around the room. The opposite wall of the bed held a wall of glass less windows. Another wall held a table and chairs and a shelf with books. Then the other side opened into a large bathroom.

“Take a moment for yourself. Your life is about you now, Cassandra. You will never be used for someone else's pleasure or entertainment ever again. This is your room. This is your home now,” Morrigan speaks and Cassandra feels her eyes tear up but then Morrigan's heels are leaving the room and those two dark skinned beauties are leading her to the bathroom.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

As soon as she was out of the room Morrigan broke down. Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she made her way back to the room she left the other three male in. She had just calmed herself when she walked in and saw them standing together.

“Is everything okay, Mor?” Cassian asked, siphons gleaming atop his hands.

“I don’t think she’s ever been outside before, Rhys,” and just like that Morrigan’s eyes were brimming with tears once again. Rhys fixed her with a look urging her to explain, an ache in his own chest. She takes a breath, looking up and wiping the tears from her eyes. “We were passing that big painting of Velaris and she had no clue what she was looking at. She had no idea what her own home looked like. And on top of that she was terrified to even walk in the room alone, I had to walk her in. And—and she looked at the room like she didn’t believe it was real. Especially the bed and I keep thinking that maybe she never even had a bed!”

Cassian is the one to walk over and offer Morrigan the comfort of a hug. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take care of her now. Find all the people who did this, help her through it all and help her find herself. She’s gonna be okay.”

Rhys and Azriel look at one another. “There’s no telling how many other girls like Cassandra there are out there. I’m hoping she will join us for dinner so I’m able to ask her some questions without her feeling cornered. Azriel, Cassian, I want you two to go talk to that mistress, find out what you can without harming her…for now. Her and anyone else involved will be prosecuted accordingly. Go. now.”

#acotar #slow burn #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader

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