#and the dog is the same height when on his hind legs

[saphira5]

Wolf Predator x Werewolf Reader Part 3

Then the door opens, y/n sees Wolf, you walk over to him, but y/n keeps your eyes on the other predator. You circle Wolf once, then y/n sits down by his left side.

You look up to Wolf, he looks at y/n, Wolf begins to click at y/n.

"Light-Stepper, leader", y/n nods at Wolf y/n looks at Light-Stepper and huffs. Y/n turns around and walks out the door and into Wolf's room, y/n lays down near the window. Y/n falls asleep for a bit when you hear the door, y/n wakes up. You look over and see Wolf, "hunt", y/n gets up and begins wagging y/n tail.

"Let's go", y/n was so excited until y/n heard "can't go".

y/n stops and looks at Wolf, "why", y/n puts your ear down, "stay". Y/n nods at Wolf, he walks out with light stepper, leaning y/n alone. You walk out of his room and into the room he gave y/n.

You lay down near the wall, the one furthest away from the door.

Y/n wanted to sleep but couldn't because of Wolf.

Y/n wanted to go hunting with him, y/n thought if you will be able to hunt again. What if Wolf doesn't let y/n. You waited and waited for a smell or sound from Wolf but nothing. Y/n huffed; you didn't know how long y/n has been laying down.

Y/n got up and headed to the main room, y/n looked at Wolf's chair for any sign of how long y/n has been waiting for Wolf. But nothing, y/n wanted to look outside but y/n couldn't because Wolf would get upset. You went back to your room, y/n transformed and then y/n got it. Y/n would go to the desk where Wolf gave y/n the neckless.

You looked at the table and saw a bunch of weird tools and some gadgets. Nothing looked like a clock, y/n walked back to your room. Y/n shifted and begin walking in circles around the room. You waited and waited until y/n heard something, y/n listen to the sound.

Y/n sniffed the air, it didn't smell like Wolf, there were also to many footsteps. You take off the translator and walk over to the window. Y/n places the neckless on the window, y/n stands in the middle. Y/n takes a stance, eyes in the door, it opens, and y/n sees a predator step inside, then another, you could smell more. About six predators in all, y/n didn't know what to do.

The two begin walking to you, y/n growls at them.

A predator raps a rope around y/n neck, he pulls you and y/n follows. Y/n walks behind the predator, y/n turns your head and sees the other five following y/n. Y/n walks out of Wolf's place, you see a bunch of other Yautja. Some were very tall; others were all around the same height.

Y/n gets pulled by the rope; y/n follows the predator with the rope.

Y/n passes a bunch of budlings, when y/n then spots in the distance a giant dome. The predator leads y/n through the door of the dome. Y/n gets lead into a long hallway, then y/n goes through a huge door.

Y/n is lead into the middle of the dome, you see a bunch of Yautja and predators seating around the dome. Y/n ropes gets cut; you watch the predator leave. The huge door close behind the predator. Y/n walks around the giant circle, y/n scrunches the sand in your claws. Y/n hears a bunch of clicking, then silence, the huge doors open and out runs six weird looking dogs.

Y/n stands up at full height and you roar loud at the weird looking dogs. They still come running at you, y/n swipes at one, two other go for y/n leg. Y/n falls down, the dogs begin trying to rip y/n flesh. You grab one in y/n mouth and bit down, hard.

Y/n cuts it in half, you then swipe at the other remaining dogs.

You kill all six dogs, green blood soaks in the sand.

Green blood is also in y/n mouth and fur, you shake the green blood off. Y/n swallows the blood and begins eating the corpses of the dogs. Y/n then stands on y/n hind legs and howls loud in the air. All the Yautja and Predators begin clicking in unison.

Y/n gets back on all fours and waits, the predator that took y/n walks over to you and puts a rope around y/n neck. The predator leads y/n out, y/n then smells Wolf. You cut the rope off and follow Wolf's smell, y/n sees him and light-stepper, y/n also sees six other predators standing behind him and Light-Stepper.

Post 10/16/23 Early

[lucithecrow]

Omg yall this kid(we're the same age) yesterday was trying to flirt with me(he was awful) but at some point we passed a dog(we were on the bus) and he said "oh that's a big dog!" And I was like "aww what a tiny baby!" Cause it was just a medium-sized pit bull, and he said,"You wanna go out there and see how big that dog actually is?" And I was like "yes omg he looks so cute, " cause literally my dog is the same height as me when he stands on his hind legs

(Pictures of my baby, mashmallow)

[loser-user-noaccuser]

The worst thing about having a dog the like shiloh is that if you leave anything edible up on the counter tops he will climb up and eat it without warning. Also walking in on him doing it is lowkey terrifying bc when he is on his hind legs he is the same height as me

[ideasspeedsite]

Battlefield 1 companion

Discover a world at war through an adventure-filled campaign, or join in epic multiplayer battles with up to 64 players, and adapt your. Fight your way through epic battles ranging from tight urban combat in a besieged French city to the heavily defended mountain forts in the Italian Alps or frantic combats in the deserts of Arabia.

Supported games are Battlefield 1 and Battlefield 4. Experience the dawn of all-out war only in Battlefield 1. Get a daily summary of when your friends are playing or follow that favorite friend to know exactly when he or she is playing. Another element of the Battlefield Companion app is a customization feature that allows users to choose a loadout while they're out shopping, for example, and then use it in Battlefield 1 when. The friend list makes keeping tabs on your Battlefield friends easy. WindowsManTvCZE Thanks, While we have news that there is to be a mobile game in development I was hoping while having a mobile app developer working on 2042 mobile there would be a good opportunity to also include an all-new companion app for battlefield 2042. Smart tools like the grid tool, zoom, and cropping makes the editing experience faster than ever. The emblem editor and gallery makes designing awesome emblems for use in Battlefield a snap. Here you can explore your stats and achievements and see how your friends are doing.Įxplore and customize your soldier’s loadout while on the go - with full support for Battlefield 1. French troops desperately hold on to re-captured heights in the Butte-de-Tahure region. AVAILABLE TO ALL PLAYERS: PRISE DE TAHURE. As darkness falls, French and German batteries prepare to yet again support their troops. Destroy the field of battle with large-scale environmental destruction. Fight in moonlit trenches on the first night map of Battlefield 1. Fight for control of powerful vehicles like tanks and ATVs. Build a loadout of authentic weapons and gadgets. Your new profile and identity of Battlefield. You and your crew will press the assault on maps and modes both new and familiar. You can access the old Battlelog App experience under the MORE menu or by visiting m. With four colossal expansions, Battlefield 1 Revolution. Design your own emblem and catch up on the latest news and videos.īattlefield Companion is a complete overhaul of the Battlelog App. Battlefield 1 brings you into the dawn of all-out warfare, where no battle is ever the same. These qualities have surely made this little dachshund a fan favorite.Overview Stay updated on the go with Battlefield™ Companion! Check your stats and customize your loadout. Is it updated somehow or what Thanks for feedback. I remember I could easily log in to my profile and see my stats, change my ingame logo etc some time ago. Chorizo's "Yes, You Can" ability makes it so that when the player pets him, he regenerates health. Get Battlefield 1 Buy Battlefield 1 Now BATTLEFIELD COMPANION Stay updated on the go with Battlefield Companion Check your stats and customize your. Hey guys, maybe I'm blind, but I can not find a login page to my Battlefield 1 stats. Even his abilities are based around his endearing qualities, as his "Attention Seeker" ability utilizes his appearance as a distraction for enemies so the player can execute a sneak attack. With a wide variety of different tool belts to wear, Chorizo can be prepared for any occasion and look lovely while doing it. And while he may not be as powerful in battle as most of the other Amigos, he makes up for it with the moral-raising power of his adorable face.Ĭhorizo has silky black and brown fur, and everlasting puppy dog eyes. His stubby little puppy legs and tiny toolbelt make his charm even more potent. The little dachshund with wheels for hind legs is by far the cutest Amigo in Far Cry 6. While there are many similar games to Far Cry 6 that fans might enjoy, none of them have Chorizo.

[beaversatemygrandma]

It’s fun writing a character who has some major insomnia. First of all, relatable. Second: it’s fucking hilarious that each scene is like a d20 roll to see how much sleep he got the night before and it’s almost always a 1 or on the rare chance, a 20. There’s no in between. He’s either tired as shit and grumpy, or the most energetic character in the scene bc he has such a reliance on caffeine and it only works if he got a 20 that morning.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Gallavanting with Gerenuks

The gerenuk, or giraffe gazelle (Litocranius walleri), is a species of long-necked antelope that lives in the dry savannahs and woodlands of eastern Africa. They can thrive in a variety of habitats, as they have a wide diet. In addition to grasses, shrubs, and flowers, giraffe gazelles use their long legs and necks to reach higher tree branches, giving it access to food unavailable to other herbivores in the area. In addition, the gerenuk does not rely on free-standing water for hydration, as it can absorb water from the plants it eats. This allows L. walleri to thrive in generally arid environments and survive through droughts.

Like most antelope species, L walleri is most active during the day. Females live in small groups of about 10 and will roam between the territories of solitary males. Individuals spend most of their time grazing, though often one member of the group will stay on the lookout for predators. When threatened by predators such as lions, cheetahs, leopards, or hunting dogs, gerenuks will freeze and their coloring allows them to blend in well to their surroundings. In addition, their long legs allow them to run at speeds up to 40 mph in short bursts.

As fitting to its name, the giraffe gazelle is quite tall. At shoulder height they stand between 80-105 cm tall, and when standing on their hind legs they can reach over 2m. Despite their height, individuals are relatively light, weighing only  29-58kg. Males tend to be larger than females, and sport curved horns. Otherwise both sexes look the same, generally tan or brown with white around the eyes and along the underside.

Females will breed once every one to two years, although there is no set mating season. When a male wants to mate, he will perform a complex ritual around the desired female which includes kicking her with his forelegs and sniffing her urine. Pregnancy lasts about seven months, after which females give birth to only one offspring. The young giraffe gazelle will nurse anywhere from 12 to 18 months; male young tend to linger longer than females but will leave once they reach sexual maturity at about 2 years old. In the wild, the gerenuk can live up to 12 years.

Conservation status: The IUCN lists the gerenuk as Near Threatened. This species was never common within its range, but recent reductions to its natural habitats have reduced populations. Many parks consider them protected and there are some breeding programs in place to maintain numbers.

Photos

Diana Robinson

Heather Paul

Frederick Salein (via Wikipedia)

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART THIRTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: light sexual content, feelings Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: SURPRISE! My depressed ass is back and I missed fawning over this fic. Thank you to everyone that stuck around. I love you guys.

Big thanks to my girlfriend and beta, @lantern-inthenight​ <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a muffled melody. The room was cast in a fiery orange glow as the rising sun peeked in through the window. You sat up in bed, straining your ears to listen. 

Noticeably missing, was Josh - the side of the bed he had been sleeping on was turned down, but you placed your hand on the sheets to find them cold. 

The chill on the hardwood made your toes curl as you padded across it, first to your bedroom to pull on a pair of sweatpants, and then back to Josh’s room to slip one of his sweatshirts over your bare chest. 

Once you were no longer naked, and a little more awake, you quickly figured out that the music was coming from under the closed bathroom door, and you stopped in front of it to have a listen. 

The sound of Josh’s voice carried well into the hall, though he was keeping it quiet, probably for your benefit. 

You placed your fingers over your mouth absently as you listened to the notes rise to a lovely height and then dip down again. You couldn’t quite make out the words, but you didn’t need to. 

It shocked you enough to make you flinch when he opened the bathroom door abruptly - you had figured he was just taking a pause in the song. 

When he spotted you, he jumped back, letting a curse fall from his lips. “God, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet - you almost gave me a heart attack,” he blurted through an exasperated smile. 

“I’ve never heard you sing before,” you said, just above a whisper in the quiet space. “Your voice is so lovely.”

He looked you up and down for a second, his face turning peachy. “I haven’t wanted to for a while. Outside of school, anyway.”

You let a smile find your lips at the implication of his words, and it fell silent between you again. He was standing, posture unsure as he, undoubtedly, tried to gauge whether everything was still okay after last night. 

The temptation to touch him was too much, especially once you realized he probably needed all the reassurance you could give. His skin was warm as you reached out and ran your fingertips lightly over the pink skin on his cheek. He careened into your touch, turning his head just enough to press a kiss into the meaty part of your thumb. The gesture made your chest feel tight. 

“Come back to bed,” you suggested through a whisper and watched him suck his bottom lip into his mouth, teeth visibly pressing into the plush skin. 

“I can’t,” he replied breathily as you took his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have the time.”

You nodded back at him with a teasing smile. “Sure you do.”

“Don’t tempt me, babe,” he pleaded from low in his chest. “I have a show at noon.”

You breathed a laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Call me that again,” you said against his ear. It was you dragging your teeth over his earring that made him groan. 

“Please - for the love of god - keep this energy for when I get back tonight.”

You hummed, pressing a kiss to the peak of his cheekbone. “Okay. Can I help?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Just wait for me here - it’ll probably help save time if you’re naked ahead of time-”

You smacked his shoulder, pulling a delighted laugh from his chest - always excited to say something stupid. “With the show.”

 “If you’d like to, I’d love to have you. But you’re going to have to hustle and get dressed,” he instructed. 

You scoffed. “Not the noon show-” You turned back towards his room and looked back over your shoulder. “No, right now I’m going back to bed.” 

+++

You hadn’t put any thought at all into what you’d wear for the other two shows you’d be attending - you knew you could recycle the dress once on Sunday if you paired it with something else, but for Saturday evening’s show, you were stuck crawling to the only other person you knew whose clothes would fit you. 

This time when you approached Kate’s house, you had come prepared with a milk-bone, which was good, because it was her huge dog that greeted you. When he stood up on his hind legs, he was able to look directly into your eyes through the glass on the door, his tail wagging. 

You watched Kate round the corner into the entrance hall, wearing a knee-length black robe, the silk shining as she moved in the sunlight. She gave you a puzzled look, cracking the door. 

“Sorry to show up unannounced,” you said with an insincere smile. “Can I give your dog a treat?”

She laughed at you, opening the door the whole way and letting you slip in. 

“I’m going to assume that you’re not just here to make Yeti fat.” Her voice sounded a bit too knowing for your taste. 

“You’re right! I’m also here to raid your closet, if you’ll let me,” you replied. “I need an outfit for the show tonight.”

She started down the hall and towards her room, ushering for you to follow. “You’re going again?” 

You nodded, though she wasn’t looking directly at you. “Yeah, of course.”

When you got into her room, you sat on her bed, and you absolutely wouldn’t have noticed Jake if Yeti hadn’t instantly trotted over to him to sit by his feet. He was sitting at a little circular cafe-style table in the corner of her room, a mug of something hot in front of him. 

You glanced over at him and were met with a cheeky little smirk. 

“You - uh. Yeah, I’m going to help with the show tonight,” you said after you decided you weren’t ready to address that situation yet. 

“Ah,” she started, and though she was facing away from you into the closet, you could hear a matching smirk through her voice. “I really only have clothes that match my style, which I would define as ‘mildly tramp’.”

You hummed contemplatively. “Let’s start with the most professional ensemble and then work our way back. Maybe something you’d wear to a wedding?”

“You don’t want something I’d wear to a wedding,” she teased but pulled out a few garments all the same.

“So, uhm. Am I interrupting something?” you finally chanced, sneaking a glance back at Jake. 

“Not at all,” Kate replied, unhelpfully. “Now go try some of these on and tell me what you think.”

In the end, the only thing she owned that you deemed acceptable - and also even remotely your style was a thigh-length, black dress - form-fitting. 

You stared at it dubiously in the mirror. 

You’d have to put a coat over it, but you thought you could make it work. 

“Are we going to talk?” Kate asked, a little smirk playing on her lips as she held her nails out to inspect them. They were unpainted but perfectly manicured.

You chanced a glance over at Jake - who was now sitting on the floor with Yeti nearly in his lap. He was working his fingers through the thick, white fur as he met your eyes. 

“Yeah, let’s talk about it,” he agreed, flashing you his teeth. 

Luckily enough, you found the moment more humorous than embarrassing, so you just scratched absentmindedly at the back of your neck. 

“Well,” you started and then paused as you tried to figure out how much was appropriate to disclose. “I’m going to his show again tonight. And tomorrow.”

Kate huffed, feigning impatience. “Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t tell me anything because you’d do that anyway.” 

You gave her a playful shrug. “That’s all I got for you right now. But I’ll tell you all about it when I’ve processed everything.”

“Ooh, shit. That sounds juicy.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke, making you chuckle. You turned your attention to Jake again then. 

“And I’m sure you’ll hear all about it,” You flicked your eyes back over to Kate in an accusatory look. “One way or another.”

+++

That night you sat in the audience alone - well, not alone, but without Kate or Jake. Most of the seats were filled again, at least partially with faces you remembered seeing the night before. 

The show was just as fun and entertaining as the last, except this time, when Josh walked out onto the stage at the end, he met your eyes for a moment, letting them linger before tugging a couple of his kids into a side hug and smiling wide for all the parents. 

As soon as most people had dissipated, he met you at your seat, but before he could even open his mouth to greet you, a parent of one of the kids was shaking his hand. The dad poured his praises, thanking Josh for working with his daughter - you guessed maybe it was Alice, but you had nothing to base that guess on. Josh handled it effortlessly, charming as ever. 

By the time the parent had left you, you and Josh were some of the last people still lingering. 

“I’ve gotta grab my stuff backstage,” he informed you, tiling his jaw up in that general direction. “Wanna come?” 

With a smile, you nodded an agreement and let him offer you a hand as you made your way out of the tight seats. 

Backstage was infinitely more chaotic than it was when you’d last seen it. Set pieces were strewn about - not unorganized, but everywhere. You had to weave through them to get to where his backpack was propped against a folding table, costume accessories spilling off the surface of it. 

“Do you want me to help clean up back here?” you asked, eyeing the messes. He hummed through a smile. 

“Nah, I’ve got a system,” he informed you, and then after you gave him a doubtful look, he added, “Seriously. And until you’re directing a cast of children in a play that you produced, I don’t want to hear your objections.”

His teasing tone made you bite back a grin. “It’s amazing - really. I’m just offering my help.”

The backpack looked heavy as he slung it over his shoulder, holding the strap across his chest with both hands. “Then take me home,” he requested playfully, flicking his eyes to the back exit. 

“Happily.”

+++

On Sunday, after the very last matinee show, you spent an hour helping him sort all the costumes - every tiny piece in a garment bag and labeled accordingly.  The rest, he insisted, he would work on during school hours the following day. 

You suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug, resting your temple on his shoulder and taking a moment to relish in the fact that you’d taken him by surprise.

 “I want to take you out tonight - a congratulations of sorts,” you said as you leaned back far enough to see his cheeks flush a flattering peachy color. 

“Really?” 

“Only if you want to.” You paired your sentence with a casual shrug. 

He flashed you a pleased smile. “Of course I want to. I’d love that,” he agreed. 

You let him pick the place, and in the end, he landed on a hole-in-the-wall diner that he swore was the absolute best place to get pancakes in the middle of the night. Even though it was close to nine, you both sipped on coffee as you waited for your order. 

“I can’t believe it’s over,” he said as you watched his fingers idly rub across the ceramic mug in his hands. “There was so much lead-up and drama that it feels weird for it all to be behind me.”

“It was really incredible, Josh. I honestly can’t believe that you pulled it off with all that went wrong.”

He looked up at you through his fan of lashes. He looked tired, but not uncomfortably so - just enough that you knew he worked his ass off. 

“We pulled it off. I could have never done it without you,” he stated, charmingly earnest as always. 

You huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s not true - If I hadn’t moved in, you’d never have lost your assistant in the first place.”

His expression melted away until his face was blank. “I-”

He paused, visibly trying to figure out how he wanted to word the next line out of his mouth. “That wasn’t your fault. I didn’t really know what was happening until it was too late to change it.”

“I know, I just. I’m happy that it ended up this way, I just wish it hadn’t almost derailed your whole production.” You could feel your features slip into something mournful, making him frown. 

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “How do you even know about that?”

You hummed. “Kate told me. Jake told her.”

He glared off into the distance, but on him, the look was completely unthreatening. It was so out of place that it made you giggle.

“I’m not sure I like how close they are,” he grumbled through a smile he couldn’t hold back. 

“Yeah, I hear you. I went to her house this morning to rummage for this dress-”

He cut you off, eyes raking over your form. “You look amazing, by the way.”

You gave him a pointed look and a little eye roll, though you had to admit you were flattered. 

“Yes, well, Jake was at her house this morning. Petting her dog.”

His eyebrows lifted, lashes blinking a few times in surprise. After a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke again. “Well. I suppose you got what you wanted then, right?” 

The irritation that was evident on your features was unwarranted - you knew that in your heart, but it didn’t stop you from letting out a childish huff. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you and I would be-”

You cut yourself off just as his eyes flicked up at you over the rim of his mug. 

“You and I would be what?” he asked coyly. You took a moment to admire the fact that his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were still a bit tanned despite it now being well into winter. A little like a bronze statue. 

“I didn’t think you and I would be...a thing,” you finished simply, keeping your tone light. 

He quirked an eyebrow at you, all too suspicious for your liking. “No?”

A puzzled look flashed across your face. “No,” you agreed. “Why? What does that mean?”

He took a too-long sip of coffee, holding your eyes just to fuck with you - you were sure. He cheekily bit his bottom lip as he figured out how to word what he wanted to say. “Nothing really,” he assured, though you were unconvinced.

You were going to press the topic further, but your thought was cut short when the server showed up with a tray of your food and another carafe of hot coffee. He made light conversation with Josh as he filled both of your mugs near to the brim, and you watched the steam rise off of it as you pondered which flavored syrup you’d drown your pancakes in. 

The sound of the little metal cup of creamer being slid across the tabletop toward you got your attention, and your eyes lingered on Josh’s hand as his fingers brushed past yours. 

“Cream, babe?” he inquired, though he was well aware of exactly how you took your coffee. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed what he’d said. That was the second time he’d called you that in the months you’d known him, and it had the same effect on you this time that it had the last time. You met his eyes, catching his fingers with yours for just a brief second, forcing a mischievous smile to his lips. 

You poured a bit of cream into your coffee and stirred it until it was a medium brown. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” you asked fondly and watched him bite his bottom lip absently to try and keep his smile from stretching into a grin. 

“Help myself from what?” His tone was cheeky, informing you that he knew exactly what you were talking about. It was evident that the two of you were playing a game now - something light and coy. You paused to take a bite or two of your food, happy enough to leave him in suspense for a moment longer. 

“Calling me that.”

He hummed, low in his throat. “Is that not alright?”

“Doesn’t it seem a bit out of place?” You watched as he reached across the table to stab at a piece of your pancake, bringing it to his mouth and chewing it before giving his answer. 

“Why would it? Are we not on a date right now?” 

A look of genuine shock flashed across your features. Not caring how rude it was, you asked through a mouth full of food, “Are we?”

There was a long pause in the conversation as he ate, and you wondered for a moment if you had upset him until he looked back up at you. He was biting back a smile as he leaned back in his seat. 

“Back before the musical, you were complaining about the cold - do you remember?” 

You frowned in concentration as you searched your brain. “Which time? I pretty frequently complain about the temperature here.”

He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, you do. I thought you were going to freeze to death at first. But there was something you said that glued itself to my frontal lobe.”

You gave him a questioning look, prompting him to continue. 

“You said, ‘if we move away from here, can we move somewhere warm?’.” He just held your eyes for a moment as your heart beat suddenly inched toward erratic. “We.”

You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling a little jittery and took another bite of pancake before you could say something truly stupid. 

After a moment of silence to let you process, he spoke again. “So, I think maybe you knew we would end up being a ‘thing’, right?”

“I don’t know a whole lot, Josh,” you admitted, reaching out and placing your hand on his and lightly running your fingers over his skin. “But, I do know that since the moment I met you, I wanted to be close with you. You’re magnetic. I truly think you could have anyone you wanted if they listened to you talk - just once.”

Despite having been the one to start the whole conversation, a peachy pink tint surfaced across his cheeks and nose at the compliment.

Clearly not interested in continuing such an intimate conversation at a busy diner, he placed his palm flat on the table and asked,  “Are you ready to get out of here? I think if I drink any more coffee my heart might give out.” 

“You could just switch to decaf,” you suggested, smirking at him as he squinted back at you like you had personally insulted him. 

He stood and leaned across the table until his face was only six inches or so from yours. “I’d rather die, thank you.”

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

hi hyacinth! would you happen to have references describing durant, eirwen, or white? thank you!

i do not, so here we go!

Durant: very similar to Virgil in look and build, some slight differences - a little shorter, but still fuck off tall compared to a human, so probably like 6'4? pale skin, dark brown hair, one green eye and one yellow. Scales around both eyes and down his arms/the back of his hands in green and gold.

Eirwen - tall, but not so tall its unrealistic for a human woman, probably 6'1 or 6'2. shiny, pitch black hair down to her ankles, which floats just a little. sickly pale, almost blue not like Virgil or Durant with the faint glow, more like a corpse. black eyes. face contorts when she wails.

White- Gigantic. About the same height as Virgil, so 6'6 ish. Pure white all over, skin, hair, nails, everything. no iris or pupils, just solid white (think albinism turned up to eleven). Hair floats around her and looks very cloud-like, especially at the ends, almost like its fog rather than hair. Wears clothing made of a similar material to her hair (read: she weaves it from her own hair/fur) so from a distance she almost looks like a moving cloud

White in her fourlegged form is the size of a very large dog, with a canine face, fox-esque forelegs, and beaver-like hind legs, with a long, fluffy tail. All her fur is that same fog/cloudlike texture

[lunnybunny12]

Sandor Clegane X reader (Rory)

MODERN AU

A/N: This is a modern AU based off of this headcanon. 

Word count: 2036

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, mentions of death

Master List

As an Infantry Soldier, Sandor served in the field, working to defend his country against any threats on the ground. He'd capture, destroy, and deter enemy forces, assist in reconnaissance, and help mobilize troops and weaponry to support the mission as the ground combat force. He'd seen good people get murdered, shot, hanged, killed. People with families to get back to and friends who would miss them. Sandor had neither, and yet he was allowed to return.

He took a large gulp of his drink and looked at his surroundings. Sandor had been to the bar many times before and the familiar hum of other patrons as they'd pull frothing glasses of beer to their lips was there like always. He heard the occasional clicks from the back where the pool-tables were placed. The smell of alcohol, snow and pine-scented air freshener drifted through the air as you dragged a damp rag across the bar.

"Oi Barkeep. Beer." Sandor called, fiddling some change from his pocket.

"Keys first, Dogface. Then you can drink," You retorted, not moving from your place at the bar. (Dogface- A nick-name for Infantrymen because they sleep in "Pup-tents" and hide in "dugouts")

Sandor sighed in annoyance and paused to look at you. It hadn't been the first time you had told him this, he never understood why but he knew full well that you weren't joking with him.

"Again?"

"Yes, again. now hand them over."

He begrudgingly did as he was told and slid the car keys across the bar, avoiding your outstretched hand completely. You snatched them away and placed them in your pocket, with a fake glare.

"Good boy. They'll be in the same place when you come to pick them up tomorrow." You said popping of the cap of a beer and sliding it towards him and going back to cleaning the bar.

"You're lucky you're one of the few people I can stand in this town" He grumbled.

"Oh I feel so honoured" you joked and rolled your eyes.

Since there were other customers to attend to you couldn't talk long, but it's not like he'd say much to you anyway. The community he had found himself in was quite tight-knit. Everyone knew everyone and it was tricky to not run into someone who had something to talk about. Sandor however was a very quiet individual who often kept to himself making him stand out to many of the residents.

As the night continued and other staff started their shifts, Sandor found himself looking at you from time to time. He watched you collect glasses, chat to customers, tell jokes and take orders. He found himself doing it allot recently and he didn't understand why. At some points, he had even begun te eavesdrop on your conversations since he had nothing better to do.

"Ah (y/n) hows Rory? Heard the lad had an accident" A customer asked as you took their order.

Sandor's ears pricked up. He'd never heard of a Rory before at least not from you, and from what he knew there wasn't a Rory in the village.

"Yeah, the silly thing fell down the stairs and hurt his leg. He's upstairs having a lie-down. he should be up and about in a few days though," You chuckled.

You had changed so much since he was dragged off to the army. You weren't a crazy teenager anymore but a grown woman, with a proper paying job and a life outside of work. Yet you were still the same when it came to your personality: humerus, silly, carefree, cheerful and stupid... my god were you stupid, you had to have been to be his friend.

"Right, consider me.. clocked out" You smiled to yourself and looked at Sandor.

"Why do you need to clock out? You own the bloody place." Sandor said.

"Yes, but its this new fangled technology thing that Mr Ray insisted I use, and you know what he's like. 'His town his rules.' Plus it helps me keep tabs on whos working."

"At least you understand half of the tripe you just said." Sandor joked taking another sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you headed towards the door. "Goodnight everyone!" You yelled earning a cheer of goodnights.

Everything was different when Sandor went away. One day he was there and the next he wasn't, no warning, just a letter that said that he had been accepted into the army and to not expect him back for a long time, that was if he came back at all.

When he did eventually return he had also changed. His personality remained the same, as you expected but he had changed physically. He was taller, broader and stronger and his hair had been cut making his burn a more prominent feature.

If it was up to you, you would've stayed away from him but since yours was the only bar in town, he would come for a drink. Out of politeness you talked to him and sent the occasional harmless jab his way and in return he was civil. You were still angry that he hadn't said goodbye but you still cared, you must have done to take his keys.

It was misty that morning. All mornings were misty since the Autumn season rolled around. You loved Autumn. You loved the feeling of the wind rushing past your face and how the leaves crunched beneath your boots. Your favourite place to walk was at the park and since Rory had stopped limping around your apartment, you thought the park was a good idea.

Rory was a large thing. The hound was easily half your height when stood on all fours and towered above you when on his hind. In his youth, he would have been jet black and full of energy but as he aged, the fur around his snout and paws had dimmed to a light grey and he had mellowed out.

As you walked along the wet grass a sudden yelp bit through the air.

"Someone get their fucking dog!"

You immediately ran to the voice to see Sandor, on the ground with your dog licking his face.

"Rory! come here. You silly thing" you laughed as you latched the lead onto the dog's collar and pulled him away from Sandor.

The man looked awful. His hair was a mess and he was covered in dirt. The shirt he wore was the same as the day prior and he seemed half asleep.

"Were you sleeping in the bush?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine thanks for asking" Sandor huffed as he pulled himself off of the grass.

He was in a mood and in all honesty, you would be too if you were sleeping in a bush.

"What kind of dog is that? Looks like a living mop"

"He's a wolfhound and I can guarantee he's cleaner than you."

"Well, you try and stay clean when you've been sleeping in the park for 5 days," Sandor growled, dusting off some leaves from his pants.

"5 days?" you asked. "You've been sleeping here for 5 DAYS! What happened to your apartment?"

"No money to pay for an apartment."

"What about your job?"

"Why do you care?" Sandor asked, bending down to grab the blanket that was hidden in the shrubbery. He was about to walk away until you stood in front of him with a serious look.

"I care because we were friends once and I'll be dumbed if I let my friend sleep in the cold. So I will ask again... What about your job?"

The look Sandor gave you wasn't out of shock or surprise. It was a look of familiarity. A look of relaxed friendliness that you hadn't seen since before he left.

Sandor sighed and scratched his neck. " My job fired me a few weeks ago. Said that 'I have talents that could be useful elsewhere.'"

"They fired you without reason?"

"I stacked boxes (Y/n) and that's all I did."

"Load of cunts," you sighed. "Right you're coming home with me, you're gonna get a shower and we can talk about a job later."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, but you're getting it anyway. Follow me Dogface."

A month had passed since then and things once again changed.

You gave Sandor a job at the bar more suited to his skillset and became the security. The town was a tourist hotspot in the summer months and you would get the occasional rowdy bunch that you nor the rest of the residents liked to deal with. In the other months, Sandor would just hang around, help with any shipments that required heavy lifting and occasionally cover for a staff member. Since you couldn't have him sleeping in his car or in a bush you gave him the spare room in your apartment and when he could afford it he insisted on paying rent and wouldnt take no for an answer.

One day when Sandor came back from his shift, he was met with you, laying on the couch with Rory draped over you with his head on your chest. Rory had done this more than once and you thought it was adorable, whether it was to protect you or because he was cold you didn't know but it was adorable just the same.

"You look comfortable," Sandor said slipping off his shoes at the door.

"Oh, I am. Very much so. I was in the mood for cuddles and since you weren't here Rory stepped up" you joked, petting the sleeping dog.

At the corner of your eye, you saw Sandor's demeanour change. He straightened his posture and took a sharp breath in.

"You alright?

"I'm fine. move your legs." Sandor said sitting on the couch beside you as he leaned to grab the tv remote.

He had been doing that a lot. Whenever you joked about ding something a couple would do, he would shy away or close himself off and to be honest you were only half-joking. It why you were so upset when he left without a word of warning. You liked him but if he liked you was a different story.

"You jealous?" You asked

"Jealous?" Sandor chuffed. "Of Rory? Nah. You wouldn't go for an old dog like him"

"I like old dogs. They have more charm and personality than the younger ones." You answered as you ran your fingers through Rory's fur and kissed him on the head.

Sandor sighed and continued to look at the TV. He looked so handsome to you, he always did. Sure he was rough around the edges but its what drew you to him in the first place.

"I like you too, you know."

"What?" Sandor laughed and looked a you. He thought you were joking like you usually did but by the look on your face, you weren't.

By that point Rory had jumped off of the couch to get some water, allowing you to sit properly.

"I like you, Dogface."

"In what way?"

"In a romantic way... since before you left" a second of silence cut between you when you started laughing at yourself. Like a real laugh. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, it's not like you feel the same anyways."

"How do you know I don't like ya?"

"Look at me, Sandor. The only men in my life  are you, the customers and my dog, I'm not exactly a noble-born am I? Just a daft bar made"

You stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a few beers.

"I like a daft bar made. They're way more entertaining than the smart ones."

"Very funny" you said handing him a bottle and sitting back on the couch with a huff.

"I also like my bar made: brave, and strong, and funny. With... a nice dog and a home of her own. Look, I like you too. I like being around you. I...I like your face."

You laughed and shuffled closer to him and leant your head on his shoulder.

"Cute" you mumbled and leant up to kiss his cheek. " I like your face too"

[yeenybeanies]

INTRO: Clayton Hess

just some quick info to clear things up: this is a world wherein humans & human-sized things exist, but also centaurs exist, & centaurs are huge. this is normal. well... semi-normal. humans and giantfolk don't tend to interact much. but!! this is my first piece with my big centaur boy clay posting here as promised! one day late smh you can find this piece and others on my patreon!

OCS | clayton hess

5,671 words

no warnings

thanks for reading!

Before the sun had even risen, there was much activity on the floor of the towering megaforest. People scrambled about at the mouth of the path leading further in, calling out to each other, distributing supplies, reigning in their horses, calming their dogs. Everyone moved with an urgent, anxious energy.

“O’Rourke! All teams are ready to depart.”

The old man, O’Rourke, lifted his eyes first to the horizon, and then to the one addressing him. His fluffy, grey eyebrows stayed fixed, knitted in a stern, stony frown. “Good. Stay ready, ladies and gentlemen. As soon as that sun rises, we’re going in.”

“You said that we had one more joining us?” The same person, a woman named Sanouk, looked to the teams of people assembled around her. “Who are they going with?”

“Yeah, he said he’d be here.” O’Rourke continued to watch the sky, noting the changing colors. The pinks and purples were gradually bleeding into oranges and yellows. Dawn was almost over. “Don’t worry about placing him. He’s gonna be going on his own.”

Sanouk eyed him skeptically. “Why? We already have one missing girl to find in this megaforest; we don’t need to lose anyone else. He could go with Team Fou––. . ..” Her words trailed off, her attention suddenly occupied with something else. First she felt it in the ground: a low rumbling, almost like a faint earthquake; then she heard it as a steadily-growing thunder.

O’Rourke shook his head and waved off her concerns. “I don’t think he’ll be getting lost. He knows these woods like the back of his hand.”

“But––but that’s–-” Sanouk tried to speak, but her rising concern over the thundering and the quaking kept cutting her off. O’Rourke could see the worry on her face, and on the faces of everyone else present, but he chose not to address it. All questions would be answered momentarily.

The disturbance sounded like a landslide. It had not only the people nervous, but the dogs and horses as well. A few high-strung beasts reared up and hollered their concern, while others fidgeted anxiously. The noise crescendoed, then abruptly quieted to a slower, rhythmic thumping. Concern in the gathering turned to confusion. Still, O’Rourke looked unbothered.

All attention snapped to a rustling in the dense foliage lining the path’s mouth. Alarmed gasps and yelps rang out as the source of the disturbance––the rustling, the rumbling, the quaking––pushed his way through the trees and stepped into view. Dogs barked, horses whinnied, and a good many people retreated several feet away from the newcomer.

The two most notable things about this newcomer were his enormous size, and his four very equine legs––and equine body from the waist down. He was a centaur. From under the wide brim of his hat, he surveyed the crowd, noting the fear in many a human and beast.

“Mr. Hess!” O’Rourke removed his hat and waved it, drawing the newcomer’s attention. “Good morning! Glad you could join us.” The old man strode forward, through the still nervous crowd.

“Morning,” the centaur said, his voice unexpectedly, and intentionally soft. He remained where he was, neither wanting to scare the crowd more, nor risk getting any of them underhoof.

O’Rourke stopped a few yards away from the centaur and turned around to face the crowd. He waved an arm up. “Everyone, this is Clayton Hess. As you can see, he’s a centaur, so be sure to keep out of his way. He’ll be helping us in searching for that little girl. Sanouk––” He beckoned the woman to step forward, which she did after some hesitation, “––if  you’ll please give him a quick rundown of the plan, then we can be on our way.”

Sanouk stared up at Clay, her mouth agape. Clay paid it no mind, being quite used to the range of emotions humans felt whenever they first saw him. He took a couple of steps backwards and slowly lowered himself onto the ground, legs tucked neatly under him, out of the way. From there, he leaned forward, arms folded behind his back.

“Morning, Miss,” he said with a polite dip of his head. “I hope I can be of some help in finding––”

“Mani Sanouk,” she interrupted, her hand extended out to him. She moved stiffly, clearly uneasy.

Clay blinked, one brow raised. This wasn’t the first time a human had offered to “shake his hand,” but it was still an unusual gesture. Not wanting to be rude, however, he brought around one hand and, moving deliberately slow, offered his pinky to meet her. “Just ‘Clay’ is fine. Pleasure to meet you.”

Sanouk went rigid at his hand’s approach, so much so that Clay could feel her tension when they made contact. She was a tough woman, though; she held onto her nerve through their “handshake,” and didn’t flinch at his retreat.

“You as well. Here’s a map that shows . . . er . . ..” As she pulled said map from her satchel, Sanouk frowned. It was a rather large map in her hands, but, to a truly behemoth being like Clay, it was no bigger than a business card. “Erm, right. Teams One and Two will be covering these sections,” she said, pointing to the marked areas. “Three and four will be covering these sections.”

Clay squinted at the map. He couldn’t quite make out all of the writing, but the marked sections were clear enough. “Understood. I’ll cover those four sections to the East.”

“Four of them?” Sanouk’s head snapped up to meet his eyes. “That is a lot of ground. Are you sure you’re going to be able to––” she paused mid-sentence, reconsidering her question and the being she was talking to. Clay allowed himself some amusement and a faint smile.

“I might be able to cover more, depending on when and where we’re rendezvousing.”

“Right . . .. Right. Okay.” She looked back down to the map and pointed to a river bend. “We will all meet back at this bend in Joyelette’s River at noon. That will give each team about five hours to search their sections. Do you know who we are looking for?”

“I do,” the centaur said with a nod. “O’Rourke printed me a picture and gave me all the information I needed.”

Sanouk returned the nod and stowed her map once more. “Then we are good to start.”

Clay gave the woman a moment to step back, then pushed himself off of the ground and rose to his full, towering height. “I’ll head out first. Best of luck to all of you. Let’s find this girl.” He tipped his hat to the crowd, then turned and started off on the trail into the giant forest. Once he was several yards away, he could hear the other groups slowly filtering in behind him. Their horses and dogs still made nervous noises, but he figured they’d calm once he was out of sight.

It was always interesting to see how humans and animals that had never encountered a centaur before reacted to him.

                                                                        – – –

By ten o’clock, the forest had changed dramatically. The sun hung high in the sky, beating down on the landscape below. It was hot and humid, almost muggy. Birds swooped around Clay’s head, snatching up insects from the tiny swarm that he’d accumulated. While most of the insects were too small to actually bother him, there were still the occasional few that managed to make a nuisance of themselves. They had his ears flicking, his tail swishing. He lamented silently to himself for not bringing some sort of repellant.

“Pauline!” he called, his voice echoing amongst the trees. He tempered his yell, not wanting to scare the girl, but wanting to be heard, should she be around. “Pauline Kelly! Are you there?”

Silence. Clay sighed, his ears drooping momentarily. This wasn’t his first rescue mission, nor would it be his last; he was familiar with the monotony and the frustrating silence after every call.

Sometimes the missing person was found. Sometimes they weren’t.

He hoped, for this little girl’s sake, she would be found. It wasn’t just exposure that could kill out here. Megaforests were not meant for humans, let alone for human children. Like the massive trees and the greenery, the fauna in here were gargantuan in their own right. Most of the larger creatures wouldn’t pay mind to a human; it was the smaller ones––relatively speaking––that worried Clay more.

Clay stopped in his tracks, stiff, ears pricked. A scream. A scream broke the silence.

“Pauline? Pauline!” The centaur called out. “Pauline, can you hear me?”

“Help!”

There! Clay’s head snapped in the direction of the scream. Turning quick on his hooves, he leapt into a gallop. “Pauline! I’m coming!” From the sounds of things, she couldn’t be too far away. He raced through the foliage, running so fast that he might as well have been flying. The girl screamed again, making the centaur skid to a halt and reassess his direction. He looked around desperately, feeling his anxiety rising.

There!

Atop a fallen log, a bear-sized, reptilian creature dug at the rotting wood with its claws. Another scream rang out, a little muffled. Clay gritted his teeth and rushed the lizard. Upon spotting him, it puffed up and hissed, but its threats were no match for his own. He halted before the log and reared up on his hind legs, forehooves kicking, promising something far deadlier than anything it could offer in return. Fighting a full-grown centaur was not worth whatever meal it could have made of the girl. It quickly deflated and skittered away, nearly losing its footing in its haste to avoid Clay’s punishment. Only once it disappeared into the underbrush and vanished from all his senses did Clay turn his eyes to the log, his expression softening.

“Pauline?” Carefully he approached the log, ears angled towards it. Quiet sniffles and whimpers came from within. Clay rested a hand atop the log and peered in through the hole the lizard was digging at. There, backed into a little nook, sat the girl from the picture––the girl they were all looking for. Dirt caked her skin, and her clothes looked torn. He couldn’t see much else of her physical state, but she was alive. Relief overcame the centaur.

Unfortunately, that relief was short-lived. The girl, upon looking up and seeing Clay’s massive face staring down at her, let out an ear-splitting shriek. Clay flinched, ears swiveling backwards to try and dampen the noise. His hands shot up in a placating gesture, though it only made the girl scream again.

“Miss Pauline––please! I’m here to help you. If you could just come out––awh––!”

The girl scrambled out of view. Clay bit back a frustrated groan and tried to catch sight of her again. From the sounds of things, she was crawling deeper into the log.

By the skies, it would have been better if one of the human groups had found her. She was, understandably, terrified of him. It was going to be a challenge to get her out of the log. He could tear it open, but that would just scare the little one even more, and could potentially harm her. He’d save that as a last resort.

Clay sighed. He rubbed his temples, digging under his hat. With a heavy thud, the centaur sat down on his haunches. He figured he might be here for a while.

“I know you’re scared, dearheart. You’ve been in this forest for two days, probably seen some frightening critters like that lizard. Probably hungry n’ thirsty. Tired too.” He opted not to say as much, but Clay figured that the girl would not have survived another night in the megaforest. She was lucky to have made it this long.

“My name’s Clay,” he continued. He kept his voice soft, hoping that he might be able to soothe her. “I know I’m big, and I’m kinda scary-looking, like everything else in these woods. But your Ma and Pa––Mr. Marty and Mrs. Lana Kelly––they’re both real’ worried about you. They sent me and a bunch of other people out here to look for you.”

The sniffling was softer now. Clay had to strain his hearing to catch it. He wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign. He listened, silently willing the girl to give him something––any sort of sign that he was getting somewhere with her.

“Y-you… know my mom and dad?” came the small voice after a long silence. Clay’s ears flicked up. Oh, in this moment, her voice was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

“Er––yes. I know them.” Or rather, he knew of them. It didn’t matter right now. “They’ve got a whole lot of us combing these woods for you, Miss Pauline. They miss you bunches, want you to come home.”

The girl went silent again, much to Clay’s alarm. He stood up again and tried to spot her within the log. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at her the first time; he could only guess her condition. Was she injured? Had he been too late in chasing off that lizard? He couldn’t smell any blood, but maybe–––

Wait. The girl was on the move again, picking her way through the log’s hollow interior. Clay followed the sound with ears and eyes as she climbed down towards the lower end. Though he was tempted to meet her down there, he decided that it was best to remain still and let her come to him.

Hopefully she wouldn’t run when she saw him.

Once she reached the opening at the bottom––likely the same opening she’d entered the log through––Pauline timidly peeked around the jagged wood. Wide eyes first found the centaur’s giant hooves, then followed up his forelegs, his torso, and way, way up to his face, where he stared right back down at her. She shrank away upon meeting his gaze, but didn’t break eye contact. Clay felt a pang in his hearts.

“That’s it, dearheart,” he said, his voice as soft as he could manage without outright whispering. “You’re so brave. Can you come a little closer so I can see you better?”

Pauline shook her head quickly. It didn’t surprise Clay.

“Okay… that’s fine. I’m gonna sit down, alright? Don’t go nowhere.” He waited a moment for a response, and continued on when he got none. Slowly, and keeping his hands where the girl could see them, Clay got down onto his foreknees, and then dropped his hocks. The girl flinched, but didn’t run.

“Alright now. I know you’re scared, little one. I understand. But I promise, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Pauline just continued to stare up at him. Sitting down did cut nearly a third of his height, but Clay still towered a good sixty feet over the girl. He did his best not to loom, impossible as it was.

He told her more about himself, about how he’d come into these woods many times to find lost humans, about how he liked to grow fruits and raise bees. He asked her some questions, too––some of which she even answered. Some of them, he already knew the answers too. Pauline Kelly was seven years old, an older sister, and she’d just had a birthday when she went missing. What he learned was that her favorite color was blue––like the color of his shirt, she liked to fingerpaint, and she thought his hair was pretty. That last point, wholly unprompted, caught the centaur off-guard.

“You like my hair?”

Pauline nodded. “Mhm.” She looked a little less scared now, and stood where Clay could better see her. Thankfully, save for some minor scrapes and bruises, she looked unharmed.

Clay pushed his hat backwards off his head, letting it fall and catch on the string around his neck. Black and grey locks spiked out at odd angles, only partially tamed with a swipe of his hand.

“You wanna touch it?”

His offer had the girl pause. She regarded him nervously, looking between his face, his hair, his hands, and… down at his tail. Clay followed her gaze. That could be a good first step. She could reach his tail on her own. He swished it around so the long hair, the same black and grey as was on his head, was closer, and more in his view.

“Go on ahead. I won’t move none,” he encouraged. Pauline hesitated, clearly debating with herself. Eventually, her curiosity won the debate. Though she remained wary of Clay, glancing up at him every other second, she shuffled out from the log’s shelter. She gave him a wide berth as she circled over to his tail. Even when she stood a mere foot from him, she paused. An approving nod from Clay granted her the last bit of encouragement she needed to sit down on her knees and run her hands over the dark locks.

Clay’s tail was kempt, for a farmer. He combed it and kept it neatly trimmed without sacrificing its purpose. Even still, the hair was coarse and wiry, as was the case with all centaur tails and manes. That didn’t seem to bother Pauline, though. She rubbed chunks of hair between her hands, combed her fingers through it, and even twisted a few locks into tiny braids. Then she stood up and moved closer to his hind hoof––the white-socked one. Clay watched her carefully, but remained still, wanting neither to spook her nor hurt her. She knocked her little fists against the tough, cream nail, and then the metal shoe underneath.

“Did this hurt?” She asked. For the moment, there was more wonder in her eyes than fear.

“Hm? The shoe? Naw, that didn’t hurt none. Barely felt it when I had them put in.”

Pauline moved on from the hoof and dared to step even closer, right up to his side. Clay leaned over to better keep an eye on her. She dusted her hands––what a polite girl––and raised them to feel the short, tan fur along his flank. It too was pretty coarse, though it was a bit softer than his tail.

“It’s a lot softer up here,” Clay offered, startling the girl. Her head whipped up to meet his gaze. She looked a little bewildered, as though she’d forgotten that he was alive and present. He pointed to his head of hair. “Softest you’ll find on a centaur. And I take real’ good care of mine.” He gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Immediately, the girl’s nervousness returned. “Um…”

Clay twisted his upper body to better face her. He brought one hand down to the ground a few feet away from her, palm up, fingers flat. “Promise I won’t hurt you, Miss Pauline.”

She stared at his hand, once again debating with herself. Clay waited patiently, watching her, willing to accept if she didn’t want to come to him immediately. They still had another hour or so before the rendezvous at the river. So long as no danger came along, he would use that time to gain her trust. It’d make things easier for the both of them. The girl deserved to feel safe after two days of being lost in a megaforest.

With an understandable amount of hesitancy, Pauline drew nearer to Clay’s hand. Like she had his tail and his hoof, she first inspected it. Next to him, the girl was miniscule. From fingertip to wrist, his hand was longer than most humans were tall. With her, his pinky finger exceeded her in height. She gave the pad of his index finger an experimental prod, and flinched when it twitched in response. Clay offered a quick apology. It seemed to reassure her, if only a little. She put her hands to his finger again, feeling over the whorls and the callouses. Clays hands, though gentle, were not soft. They were the hands of a working man, rough and weathered..

It took the girl a few more minutes of touching and feeling, and a little bit more encouragement from Clay, before she felt confident enough to step up onto his hand. She took a few unsteady steps over his fingers, finding it a little unusual and difficult to walk on such a squishy surface. Where his fingers met his palm, she lost her balance and fell onto her knees with a yelp. Clay fought back the urge to cup his hand around her.

“You’re okay, dearheart. Why don’t you sit down in the middle right there, hunh? Get yourself comfortable.”

Pauline, finding that to be a good idea, did as told and sat herself cross-legged in the center of his palm. She planted her hands to either side of her for balance. Smart girl. Once she settled, his fingers curled in around her, not enough to enclose her, but to make a barrier to keep her from falling. She sat in nervous silence, glancing at her surroundings. Slowly, carefully, Clay lifted his hand from the ground. The girl tensed, but made no sound as he brought her up to eye level. It was even more obvious now how small she was compared to him.

Up close, Clay could get a better look at her. Her clothes were dirty and torn in places, she had a layer of dirt and mud caking her skin, and her arms and legs had a good many abrasions. Overall, though, she looked fine. Stressed and ready to get home to her parents, but fine.

Her sniffling snapped Clay out of his silent observation. He blinked twice and regarded the girl inquisitively. She’d begun shaking in his hand, and little tears pooled in her eyes.

“Now now, Miss Pauline. You’ve gotten this far. You can be brave for a bit longer.” A warm smile spread across his lips. She was a cute little girl. Tough, too. If she weren’t so terrified, the centaur might have given her a little nuzzle. Instead, though, he’d give her what she was promised for her bravery. Clay brought the girl closer and tipped his head forward, letting his forelocks hang closer to her. He closed his eyes, hoping that it might make the girl more comfortable. Once all stopped moving, Pauline stood up, still a bit shaky. She reached out to the long strands, taking a handful and filtering it through her fingers. Clay had not been lying; the hair on his head was much softer than that on his tail or his fur. Pauline was immediately enraptured. She ran her hands through it, rubbed a lock to her cheek, fluffed it and smoothed it again. She took a chunk and loosely braided it, giggling softly. Clay was content to let her do as she pleased. He was surprised, though, when she moved closer and ran a hand over his eyebrow. Said eyebrow twitched, then joined its counterpart in a furrow.

“What are you doing, little one?” He spoke not with any accusation, but rather kind amusement.

“You’re missing hair on this one,” she said, touching his right brow. Clay opened his eyes, but she was too close for him to focus on. His eyelashes brushed her arms, drawing another giggle from her.

“Yep. Got a cut a long, long time ago, and the hair never grew back.” His smile widened. A child’s wonder was a marvelous thing to see. To be the object of that wonder was, in a way, flattering. After everything this girl had been through over the past couple of days, she deserved some happiness.

“Could I please touch your beard?” she asked. Wordlessly, Clay obliged. He tipped his head back, lifting his chin so she could reach it. With far less hesitation than before, the girl pushed her hands into the shorter hair. It wasn’t as soft as the hair on his head, but still softer than his tail. It tickled her palms as she rubbed along his chin and jaw.

Clay glanced up at the sky, noting the sun’s position. There was still time, but noon was approaching.

“Dearheart,” he said, gently pulling his head back so he could better regard her. “I’d love to let you braid my hair all day, but I think it’s time I got you back to your parents.”

The girl’s eyes lit up, as if she’d suddenly remembered why Clay was here at all. She nodded eagerly.

Warmth filled Clay’s chest. He reached with his middle finger to give her a gentle pat to the head. “Sit down now, just like before. I’ll take you to them.” Obediently, she did as told and returned to her previous spot. Clay pulled his hat back onto his head, then cupped his free hand next to his occupied one for extra security. “Hold on, now. This might be a bit bumpy.”

That was putting it lightly. A centaur standing up was a rocky ride. He lurched as his hooves found footing under him, making the girl yelp and grab onto his pinky. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped harder when she was suddenly lifted even higher into the air.

“It’s alright, Miss Pauline,” Clay said. “You ready to go?”

She nodded, though she kept her eyes closed.

Standing up was the rough part. Clay, like most centaurs, could keep his upper body steady through a full gallop. While walking, the worst Pauline had to endure was a little bit of easy swaying. He periodically glanced down at her as he picked his way through the forest, happy to see that most of her fear was gone. She looked around at the giant trees and bushes with a new sense of awe. From up here, things didn’t look quite so daunting. The fact that no predators could reach her provided a great deal of comfort too.

With comfort came confidence. The girl started asking questions about the forest, about Clay, about centaurs and other large creatures. Clay indulged her curiosity as best he could. Having lived with these woods his whole life, he was something of an expert. Were they not on a bit of a time constraint, he would have been happy to stop and show her some of the things he talked about, like the bright mushrooms or the abandoned bird nests.

Clay could smell the river before he could see it. He could hear it, too, as they drew closer. Over the sound of its flowing, he could hear some voices, too––human voices. Dogs barking greeted him first as the animals sensed his approach. He paid them no mind, nor the startled noises of the humans as he pushed through the trees and into the path that ran perpendicular to the river.

“Mr. Hess!” said a familiar voice. Sanouk waved to him, and he nodded in return.

“Afternoon, Miss Sanouk.” The centaur stopped a few yards away from the group of humans, both for courtesy and safety’s sake. He curled his fingers again to keep his charge secure as he once more lowered himself down to the ground. “I believe I’ve found who we were looking for.”

Sanouk eyed him curiously, then looked to his cupped hands. Her expression morphed from confused to elated. “You found her?” The rest of the group perked up at the news too.

Clay nodded and turned his attention to the girl in his hands. “Miss Pauline, these people were out here looking for you too. They’re real’ nice. I’m sure they’ve got some snacks and water they’d be happy to share with you.”

Pauline looked uncertain, but the mention of food and water brightened her mood. Clay brought his hands down to the ground and flattened his fingers. A few of the other humans cheered and whooped their joy. Sanouk looked ready to cry. She took a knee and held her arms out to the girl.

“Come here, child. Come get something to eat and drink. Your parents will be here soon.” She beckoned with her hands.

Pauline looked back to Clay, who gave her an encouraging nod, then she scampered out of his hands and ran into Sanouk’s arms. The woman embraced her tightly. She mouthed a word of thanks to Clay, then lifted the girl up and carried her to the crowd, many of whom already had water and food to offer. Clay straightened and crossed his arms, satisfied that the girl was now safe.

A few humans broke from the group to thank Clay for finding the girl. He humbly shrugged off their thanks, saying that they were all out here looking for her. Any one of them would have brought her back if they’d found her. He was just the lucky one. Still, it was nice to see that at least some of the humans were warming up to him.

Over the next half hour, the other groups filtered in. The Kellys were part of the last group to arrive. Pauline spotted her mother before either parent could receive the news. “Mama!” she yelled, startling the whole group. Both parents looked up, bewildered, to see their daughter sprinting towards them. Their knees hit the ground, arms outstretched, and cocooned the girl in a long-overdue embrace. A chorus of sniffles and relieved sighs echoed throughout the whole group. Clay looked away, not wanting to intrude on a personal moment. He was just happy to see the Kellys reunited.

After a few minutes, approaching footsteps drew the centaur’s attention back. Ears pricked, he turned his head to see O’Rourke walking his way. The old man wore a grin as wide as his face.

“I’m told you’re the one that found her.”

Clay dipped his head once. “Out in section six. Got to her just in time, too. Found her in a log with a lizard trying to get at her, the poor thing.”

O’Rourke raised a fuzzy brow. “Have any trouble catching her?”

“No, not really. I let her come to me. Figured she’d been through enough; she didn’t need me grabbing for her and scaring her more.” He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. His pinky caught on one of the braids the girl had left there. It brought a fond smile to his lips. “She okay? Didn’t look too banged up to me, but I’m no doctor. Certainly not no human doctor.”

“She’s fine,” O’Rourke said with a wave. “Better now that she’s back with her family. Thank you, Clay, for coming out today. We wouldn’t have found her without you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Clay said.

“I do. Don’t be so modest. You saved that girl’s life today,” the old man insisted.

Clay was ready to retort, feeling a little indignant with his modesty being challenged, but he paused when he spotted others approaching. O’Rourke followed his gaze to the Kellys, Marty and Lana, heading over. Pauline was held in her mother’s arms, clutching a snack bar that she eagerly munched on. They stopped next to O’Rourke, who gave the father a firm pat on the shoulder before he departed.

The father spoke first. “Mr. Hess…?”

“Clay,” he corrected.

“Clay…” he repeated, clearly uneasy. “I––we wanted to thank you for finding our daughter. We knew that if we didn’t find her today, she might…” he trailed off as his voice started to shake, and swallowed thickly.

Clay shrugged humbly. “No need to thank me, Mr. Kelly. I’m just happy I could help. Happy to see her safe.”

“You saved her life,” the mother said. She looked less afraid than her spouse, like her strength and courage returned with her child. “You’ve done us a great service. How could we ever repay you?”

Clay frowned. These humans didn’t listen, did they? It must be their tiny ears. He shook his head. “I don’t need repayment. A child was lost, and I helped find her. I just did what any decent man would do.”

“But––”

He waved a hand, cutting off any rebuttal. “You wanna repay me? You take that girl home, get her cleaned up and healthy again. You take care of her and raise her well. That’s plenty reward for me.”

The parents stared up at him, clearly feeling contrary. Before they could say anything, though, Pauline started to squirm and protest the hold she was in. Once mother reluctantly set her down, the girl ran towards Clay. She beamed up at him, arms held over her head. The centaur went still, going so far as to halt his breathing.

“Clay!” the girl called, waving her hands. There was no trace of her previous fear.

Clay allowed himself a breath and a smile. “Yes, dearheart?” She pointed to his hands. Now it was his turn to be hesitant, but he did still oblige the child. He lowered a hand for her, offering her his forefinger. She latched onto it, hugging as tightly as she could. The gesture filled his hearts with a warmth he didn’t often experience.

“Now now, don’t go getting all sappy on me,” he chided gently. He couldn’t return the hug, but he could allow her to hold on for as long as she wanted. Her parents followed behind, both resting a hand on his knuckles.

“Thank you, Clay,” the father repeated.

The centaur shook his head. “It was my pleasure.”

Pauline held on for another minute before her mother coaxed her away. Clay pulled his hand back, still aware of the little warm spot where she’d held him. He gave the family a wave as they retreated back to the crowd, no doubt ready to head home and tend to their daughter.

Clay didn’t stick around much longer. There was nothing left for him to do here. The girl was safe. The family was whole. He was happy. With all humans a safe distance away, the centaur gathered himself up to his feet, tipped his hat farewell to the crowd, and turned to the forest to head home.

He could celebrate the day on his own with a bottle of his homemade cider.

[incorrectbatfam]

Sixteen (Divide By Two)

Kon-El Week day 1: Kon's birthday | No capes, still alien

Summary

Kon birthday turns out to be less than spectacular, so when he’s given an opportunity to turn things around, he takes it, because who wouldn’t? But when things go South, he realizes that wishing on a candle is not all it’s cracked up to be.

“Mm, stop.”

Kon rolled over, but the licking and nuzzling persisted as Krypto leaped over the bunched-up blankets. Krypto barked. Kon covered his head with the pillow.

“It too early for this.”

Krypto stopped. Just as Kon was about to breathe a sigh of relief, something soft and round smothered the pillow into his face.

Phbbbt.

He shot up and shooed Krypto out of the bed. “Jon, get your dog!”

Jon slid down the hall in his socked feet, barely catching himself on Kon’s door frame, toothbrush tucked in his cheek like a chipmunk. “Krypto! C’mere, boy.”

Krypto leaped into Jon’s arms, almost matching the ten-year-old’s height on his hind legs as he plastered Jon’s face with happy kisses. That allowed Kon to close and lock the door behind him.

Kon mourned the ten minutes of lost sleep as he reset the alarm before opening his closet and examining the articles dangling from the wire hangers. He tutted. All his clothes were so drab—completely unfit for a momentous occasion such as today. Gray sweats lay in a dirty heap on the floor next to a bin of old, faded items. A stiff tuxedo meant for Wayne galas was all the way on the end against the wall. Fuzzy pajamas were folded on the top shelf next to the dress shoes. The rest of his wardrobe comprised of t-shirts, jeans, t-shirts, jeans, t-shirts, jeans, and guess what? More t-shirts and jeans. 

Half yawning, half sighing, he tugged on a black shirt and blue jeans and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. At least he’s meeting his friends at the mall; he could find something there. He fished his wallet out of the nightstand and counted his cash: fifty-five dollars in allowances. Kon wasn’t sure what he could buy with that—the concept of money was still fuzzy to him.

The downside of their small shared bathroom was that he had to brush his teeth at the same time Jon brushed Krypto’s. Kon suppressed the urge to gag at the smell.

Jon patted Krypto’s head. “Good boy. Now say happy birthday to Kon.”

Kon, who was in the middle of rinsing the dog fart out of his mouth, found himself tackled to the hard tile by seventy pounds of labrador retriever. Krypto wasted no time covering him in slobbery licks.

“What the heck?!”

“Aw, he likes you!” Jon said. “Isn’t that right, Krypto?”

Kon pulled himself up and rinsed his face as Jon sent Krypto downstairs for breakfast—something Kon was looking forward to as the sweet aroma of his mom’s pancakes wafted through the house.

.

.

Read the rest on Ao3

@kon-el-week

[skylights2000]

Switch! (Gundham x Fem!Reader) Part 8

~

Ring

Ring

Ring

You groaned and rolled over, nearly knocking your phone onto the floor when you reached for it.

“Hello?”

“Open the door!” Miu yelled through the phone, making you wince and pull it away from your ear.

“Jeez Miu, could you be any louder?” You grumbled as you dragged yourself out of bed.

“Just let is in!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m comin’.”

Miu charged past you as soon as you opened the door. “Where is it?!”

“Where is what?” You asked, rubbing at your eyes.

“The puppy!” Sonia explained excitedly.

“It’s not much of a puppy. If she stood on her hind legs, she’d almost be your height.” You chuckled. “Mavis!” You called, smiling when you heard the click of claws on the floor as she bounded into the living room.

The fluffy, golden brown dog still had bandages wrapped around her midsection, but other than that, you’d never know she was hurt.

Mavis paused when she caught sight of your visitors, so you walked over to her and crouched down beside her, scratching her chin affectionately. “Mavis, meet Sonia and Miu, my best friends.” You turned your head to them. “Hold out your hands.”

They did as you asked, and Mavis sniffed each of them before licking their hands.

“She likes you guys.”

“So, how did things go with Gundham?” Miu asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

The emotions from last night flooded back to you, forcing a sigh from between your lips. “Confusing.”

Sonia frowned worriedly. “What happened?”

You waved them further into the room and took a seat on the couch. Mavis jumped up and sat beside you, resting her head in your lap. You smiled softly as you combed your fingers through her fur. Miu plopped onto the other couch, and Sonia sat beside her.

You ran through the events of last night, leaving out what Gundham had told you about his father.

“So you like him?” Miu asked curiously.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Why not tell him of these conflicting feelings?” Sonia asked.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea..”

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t wanna say anything when I don’t even know what I feel.”

“But-“

“Besides, there’s no way he would feel that way about me anyway, so there’s no point.”

“That’s a load a sh-“

Your phone rang, cutting Miu off. You got up and headed into the kitchen before answering it. “Hello?”

“We’ve got a huge problem!” Hiko shouted from the other end of the line.

“What’s wrong?”

“One of the legs broke off the nightstand, and Mrs. Nayako is coming to get it this afternoon! We’re trying to fix it, but the saw is acting up again! You’re the only one that can get the stupid thing to work when it’s like this!” Hiko explained frantically.

“Okay okay, I’ll be there soon. Just breathe. I’m on my way.”

~~~~

You did manage to get the saw working again, and you, Manako, and Hiko managed to get the leg fixed just before Mrs. Nayako came to get it.

You were glad Sonia reminded you of the weather forecast because when you stepped outside again, it was pouring rain.

You always liked it when it rained. There was something about it that just made you feel so calm.

When you were in the orphanage, you used to sit in the window in your room and watch the rain fall. It was one of the few good memories you had from that place.

You held out your hand, letting the raindrops fall into your palm before cascading down your fingers. The water was cool against your skin, and it soothed the slight burn from the woodworking.

You looked both ways as you crossed the street, only to spot a familiar face on the other side.

Gundham was walking down the sidewalk, drenched from head to toe, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. You shook your head and hurried across the street, catching up with him fairly easily.

You held out your umbrella to cover his head, not really caring that you were getting wet. “You’ll get sick if you walk around like that.”

He turned to face you, raising an eyebrow as he did. “I could say the same to you.” He pushed your hand so the umbrella was over your head instead.

You moved closer until the umbrella covered you both. “If we walk together, neither of us’ll get sick.” You smiled sweetly, trying to ignore just how close together you were.

“I-I suppose I cannot argue with your logic.” He responded, hiding his face with his scarf.

“Lead the way.” You two walked together for several minutes before something crossed your mind. “Oh yeah, I meant to ask you last night, but what kind of food is best for Mavis?”

“Follow me, and I will give you some.”

You nodded and thanked him. You followed him to the Breedery, only to be caught off guard by who was standing out front.

“Mom?” You called, and your foster mother turned to you in surprise before a smile lit up her face.

“There you are! Your friends said you would probably be here!” She hugged you tightly, nearly making you drop your umbrella.

When she pulled away from you, she seemed to finally notice Gundham standing beside you. She glanced back and forth between you two several times before a wide grin stretched across her face. “Oh my, are you two on a date?”

You nearly choked on your own air. “E-Excuse me?”

“Well don’t let me interrupt!”

She smiled so happily that you didn’t even have the heart to correct her. You knew you’d have to tell her eventually, but maybe it was alright to give her this one moment.

She gave your hand a squeeze and offered Gundham a smile. “I’ll see you at home, (Y/n)!” With that, she all but skipped in the direction of your home, leaving you and Gundham staring after her.

You turned to him, scratching your cheek nervously. “Sorry about that.”

When you actually looked at him, you were genuinely surprised to find that he’d turned as red as a tomato, and you found it incredibly adorable. Not that you would tell him that though.

Well, that’s what you thought, at least, but the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“You look pretty when you blush.”

Well shit.

“I-I didn’t mean to say that out loud!”

You essentially just told him you were thinking that in your head though. Well, no going back now, you guess.

“It’s true though.” You murmured shyly.

His whole face flushed scarlet, and he looked away from you. “I-I need no flattery from a mortal such as yourself.”

You raised an eyebrow at the response. He glanced at you, and upon noticing your expression, amended his statement with a sigh. “I suppose even dark overlords can appreciate a compliment. Th-Thank you.”

The smile returned to your face, and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Oh right!” You’d almost forgotten why you came here. “The dog food!”

“Ah yes, the food for your hellbeast. Forgive me for the waver in my focus.” He led you into the Breedery and towards the back.

There were rows upon rows of various animal foods, so many choices that you felt overwhelmed just looking at it.

Gundham, on the other hand, strided towards one of the shelves and procured a bag of dog food.

“Feed this to your hellbeast, and she will grow to be unstoppable.” He laughed maniacally, and you found yourself laughing too.

“Thanks Gundham!” You gave him a quick hug and flashed a sunny smile. “See you later!”

He watched you as you headed for the door, only relaxing once you were out of sight. He sat down in a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands. “That woman will be the death of me.”

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clans part 32! @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz

Content warning! Blood, bold!

Donatello turned around and found that he was being watched. Watched by two sets of eyes, staring at him from the very edge of the forest. The foxes had returned, still holding his bag and standing on their hind legs so they could match his height. Now, seeing them in the light of day, their proportions seemed so off that it was unsettling. Their legs and torsos looked like they had been stretched like putty while their heads were small like a normal fox, eyes cartoonishly wide in comparison.

“Hey…” Donatello breathed. He didn't know why he was talking to them, but at this point in his isolation, it was better than talking to a volley ball with a face.

The foxes tilted their heads at his voice.

“Do you understand me?”

The foxes closed their eyes and nodded.

“Good. Then leave me alone.” Donatello turned his back to them and, after a moment to take a breath, entered the building.

It was warm inside; at least in comparison to the chill of the exposed woods. Some light filtered in through cracks and wind whistled through those same flaws, but it wasn’t much to disturb the still warmth. There wasn’t any furniture except for some old mats and forlorn, fractured pots. Donatello welcomed the gentle darkness within and he could almost imagine that it was his home. That he was breathing in the smell of New York instead of the sharp smell of pine and decay. He closed his eyes a moment to savor the feeling, but opened them again at the sounds of snow crunching.

Turning, he saw the foxes were closer now, and just as curious. He found himself unable to care much. He didn't have anything else that they could take, and some part of him told him that they wouldn’t attack. He just wanted to get warm. He grabbed a hold of the first vine he saw, using his strength to pull it from the wall, and then shifting to use the sickle end of his bow to sever the vine so that he could remove it completely.

The moment the vine separated from the wall, the foxes went crazy. Their yips and shouts and hollers were a minor annoyance and offered nothing but frustration to Donatello. Still holding the vine, he spun around quickly to confront them.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did that vine have sentimental value?”

Now the foxes were in the doorway, silenced immediately by Donatello looking at them. That was the same pattern they followed for the next hour it took Donatello to clean up. Any time he’d remove a vine or peel moss from the wall or seal a crack, they started to sound off. They would only stop when Donatello looked at them, and they wouldn’t start again until the next time Donatello fixed or removed something. Slowly, Donatello came to realize it wasn’t entirely malicious.

“There.” Donatello said when the last vine was removed, sitting down on the soft wood to rest. “I could’ve done a lot better if I had my tech bo…”

Donatello screamed when he felt a sudden paw on his knee. He struggled away when he saw the fox right beside him, crawling to the wall to get away from its sudden presence. It was on all fours again, and gave a curious yip before pursuing Donatello to his hiding spot where he was now cowering under his arms. The fox raised a paw to touch the bo staff on Donatello’s shell.

“O-oh.” Donatello realized the intention and cleared his throat. “That’s not my tech bo. That’s just a normal, dumb regular mystic bo. I think.”

The foxes seemed to share Donatello’s sadness as he mentioned his broken staff, and both advanced to press their noses to his forehead before he could stop them. As clear as the day it had happened, Donatello saw his tech bo shatter and break. He gasped and pulled away from the cold noses, his mouth unbelievably dry. The foxes pulled away as well, shaking their heads sadly.

“D... did you…?”

Donatello couldn’t finish his question, but the glints in the foxes eyes were both answer enough. They looked from Donatello back to his bo staff. Donatello looked up at it as well, and after a moment of consideration pulled it out of its holster and held its power in his hands.

“It’s a mystic weapon, right?” Donatello asked softly. “I’ve been trying to figure out what it’s power could be…”

The foxes stood up and left. Donatello stared at their tails as they walked away, then shook his head and turned back to his bo staff.

“Figures.”

A yip brought his attention back up and he saw the foxes hadn’t gone far. They were sitting at the doorway behind the bag of supplies that they had stolen from him. Donatello said nothing. He only watched as they pushed their noses into the bag and shoved it closer to Donatello. The softshell stood up and came over at a slow gait. He reached a hesitant hand toward the bag and, when the foxes showed no ill will to him, he grabbed the bag and ran back to the opposite side of the monastery. Only then did he feel comfortable enough to open it.

The first thing he pulled out was a bottle of water, half frozen but he didn't care. He hadn’t drank in so long that he had already gulped down half of the bottle before he was able to get a hold of himself and replace the rest back into the bag. Who knew how long he would be here for? Bishop said two weeks right? Or was it three weeks… or four? Donatello’s mind was too fuzzy to know. He pulled out an MRE, forced to use the rest of his water to activate it so he could get something substantial in his stomach. It tasted like sand with the consistency of a swollen sandwich, but he didn't care. Food was food.

Halfway through his meal, Donatello noticed something else in the bag and picked it up. Unfurling it revealed a map. A map with only one trail and two destinations marked; the place that Donatello was currently staying and the place he needed to go— back to the campsite. This wasn’t right. There hadn’t been a map in there before, Donatello was sure of it, he would have seen it! But it was there now. Could he had just missed it? And how lucky was it that it showed him just the right path he had to take to get back to his mission? Donatello zipped his bag back up and swung it over his shoulder, devouring the rest of the MRI and discarding the trash. What did he care about littering at a time like this, anyway?

Donatello stepped out into the open, scrunching up his beak and raising a hand to block out the daylight. Snow always made everything so much brighter. He made a mental reminder to change out his contacts when he got back to his tent. When the brightness subsided, Donatello’s eyes once more found the duo of fox statues and he fell to curious thought as to who the temple belonged to…

***

The foxes followed Donatello all the way back to the campsite. The map was true and trustworthy, so Donatello tucked it back into his pack for safe keeping. His tent was still upright and undisturbed from where he left it, so he quickly moved to place the bag and his staff inside. When he backed out of the tent, the foxes had ventured into the dead lands of the campsite, farther than they had the night before. Their hackles were raised, their ears flat and lips pulled back in snarls as they growled at the opening of the cave that Donatello had dubbed the ‘Stay Away from Cave’ cave. They looked almost like savage dogs or terrified cats, barking their anger at something unseen.

“What’s gotten into you?” Donatello almost scoffed

“I’ve gotten into them.”

The voice came from inside Donatello’s head and it made him shiver, and not in a good way. His body felt violated! There was never meant to be more than one voice in his head ever, and that voice was meant to be his and his alone. It was as if the entity tied a lead around Donatello’s brain and heart, going tight and forcing him to either live with the suffocating sensation of a noose around his neck or venture closer with the promise of a slackened line. Donatello followed the promise that pulled him along, even as the foxes yelled their dismay. The temptation was too much, like a sailor drawn to the sirens that would crash his ship.

Donatello felt the beat of breath and tickle of whiskers touch his hand as something long and wooden was jammed in his palm. Donatello tightened his grip around the blessed weapon as the sounds of the panicked foxes seemed almost a distant memory. The presence pulled him along to the cave’s entrance. The noose on his neck shifted to his hand, forcing it to touch the purple barrier that separated him from whatever was inside. He felt the power radiating, warming him all over but centering mostly at the dome of his head. So much power in such a small blockade. Ancient power that grabbed at him and sucked him into obedience like it had done with generations before.

Then there was a great, stinging pressure around his ankle that made him cry out. When he looked down, he found a disgusting, pink thing constricting his ankle, barbs digging into his flesh and staining the surrounding snow with the blood milked from the wound's trauma.

Donatello sucked in a deep breath and found his feet still firmly planted several feet away from the entrance, his ankle still intact. The foxes still at his side.

“I…” Donatello didn't know what to do or what to say. Leonardo would usually make a joke, or Michelangelo would make some heartwarming, yet dumb comment, or Raphael would make a brave declaration. All Donatello could think to do was say, “I don’t wanna talk right now.”

“Aw…” The voice and the strangling suffocation it brought with it remained just as sharp, even with the mocking sadness, “I am soooo sad! Why not?”

The foxes guided Donatello away from the barrier by nipping at his feet and forcing him to take shelter in his tent. That did nothing to keep him safe from the voice. It was in his head; he couldn’t get away from it! Still, the foxes forced him to lay down and they formed a protective circle around him. Through the rest of that day and into the night, the voice was all he heard.

“Come play with me!” It would say, “I’m lonely!” Or, “I promise I don’t bite!” Or, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a new friend!”

Silence for a short time. Becoming harder to breath. The foxes were a warming presence, but no matter how often they licked him, they couldn’t lick away the dreadful need to breathe. Donatello found himself clawing at his neck on more than one occasion, leaving it dark and bruised. The foxes stopped him every time, but his mind would always go back to trying to clear his throat of nothing. There was quiet for a long time now, the silence ringing. Maybe the voice too had grown tired? Maybe Donatello could finally get some rest…

CRASH!

It sounded like a gunshot had gone on outside, making Donatello sit straight up from his slumber. The sleep was immediately lost from his body as adrenaline swallowed him. The foxes tried to keep Donatello inside the tent by grabbing a hold of his clothes with their teeth, but Donatello shook them off of him and practically fell out of the tent and into the snow of the storming night. A new blanket of white was laying, falling in massive flakes all around him, but there was no disturbance. Nothing except for the evil, victorious laugh of the Creature in the Cave.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

White female werewolf x female human?

You remember Rhys Pearson? Well, this is set in the same town, the same universe, etc. His older brother, Nicholas shows up, as a sort of counsellor to help rogue werewolves rehabilitate after being kicked out of their pack.

Some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea. – Nikita Gill

Warning: some mild language and past assault.

The She-Wolf of Water Creak

They spoke of wolves and ghouls, of monsters that lived in men and hide with smiles during the days, revealing themselves to be the beast within when the moon was out and the air was cold. Water Creak thrived with its animals and beasts, and the creatures that lived here bloomed with the existence beneath twilight.

You should’ve known that living in this town was weird, but you had known that there was always something hiding beneath the roses, and secrets laid.

You sighed heavily, sorting Toby the large Great Dane out after his check-up and scan, before putting him into the shelter for the night. You were tired from a full day’s job working at the veterinary practice, your other colleagues had gone home for the day, leaving you to sort out everything and finalize any of the animals that were still staying overnight.

It didn’t take long before you got a text from your closest friend, Nicholas Pearson, the ding from your phone bringing you to look down at your phone for a brief second:

Hey, hope work wasn’t too rough for you. Nick.

You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick reply back to him; ‘Couldn’t be as difficult for you I doubt?’ 

Aside from growing up as the oldest and living with four younger brothers, Nicholas had the toughest job of working as a rehabilitator and counsellor for people who were kicked out of rough homes and families. You could imagine working with delinquent teenagers could be quite a trouble.

Your phone buzzed beside you again, smiling as you shoved it in your pockets, gathering your things as you locked the doors and headed out into the empty parking lot.

You got into your dinky little rust-bucket, the same one you had been driving and had gotten you through Hell and back; Dahlia was quite the charmer and your love.

The engine roared to life and spluttered once and twice, before stilling to a steady rumble, and you headed out through the darkness with the little guidance of the streetlights to help you and the silver flickerings of the moon.

Driving home alone at night was quite troublesome and on the isolated roads were rather unnerving, but you managed to do it every night to get home; where you wretchedly lived quite far out of the small town and closer into the next one.

Your phone buzzed fleetingly once more, and you looked briefly for two seconds down to see that it was ringing. Damn it, if mama could see me now looking to answer my phone, she would kill me.

You briefly looked back up to meet the road, the clear roads seemed normal at first and normal, and you concentrated hard enough to look on both sides of the roads and forest areas, you hadn’t been able to predict that something would come out so soon. 

Sure, deer were unlucky to get hit sometimes, but this thing was faster and larger, and your eyes had just about adjusted into registering whatever it was dart across onto your side of the road, your foot hitting the brake at the last moment, but you weren’t fast enough in avoiding it, and the large thump and creak your head that came from your car was enough to make you spring forward.

Good thing you were wearing a seatbelt, but still. You came to realise that you had hit something, and judging from the knock against your car, it was quite big.

“Oh shit, oh shit, fuuuuck.” You swung your seatbelt off you, phone in hand as you stopped the car where you were, car door pushing open you stepped out, taking in what you had just accidentally hit. You were able to distinguish the large fluffy white pelt of it, the large body was hiding its head, but your mind was spinning.

Had you hit someone’s lovely dog? You would hate to imagine it, but you stepped around to the back of it, trying to look at it carefully. It was way too big to be a common dog, and you were sure of it-

-Your hands were shaking as you took the phone and could only dial the only person you could assume that could help you in this situation.

With the desired phone number in place and ringing, it didn’t take long for the phone to finally be picked up, the person’s deep rich voice bringing you back to reality.

“Yes, hello?”

“Nick, it’s me, erm, ah shit-- where do I begin?” Your voice gave off a shaky and nervous laugh, trying to stop your fingers from accidentally dropping it. “Whoa, what happened - are you okay?” His voice was immediate to show concern and shock for you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, not sure if this dog I hit is.” 

There was a brief pause from the other end of the line, and you could hear Nicholas heavily breathing down the mic. “You hit a dog?”

“Yes, well no, but it can’t be a dog, it’s too big—it looks like—like a wolf –”

Nicholas slowly and carefully said your name down the phone, his deep voice grave. “Whatever you do, turn back around and take it back with you to the practice, I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait, Nick, I-“ You heard the end of the line cut out, the buzzing of the phone bring your attention to how lonely and daunting it was being out here. Looking back down at the large creature, you could feel the prang in your heart, the desperation in wanting to know it was okay.

“Okay, big guy, I’m gonna get you back, and you’ll be in good shape.” You murmured in reassurance to yourself, putting your phone in your pocket as you bent down to gently try and touch the fur. Its fur was matted and worn as if it had years of neglect and mishandle; the coat knotted and a faded white from mud and grime.

Poor thing has seen the wars. You dreaded, carefully putting your arms around its large torso, your hands quivered when you could feel through the coat and feel the bones; realising that it was malnourished.

The creature gave no noise when you attempting picking them up: having had the experience of having to pick up much bigger dogs onto the table for check-ups, this one must’ve been the same weight as any other normal dog - which put worry into how badly they needed help.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” You comforted once they were in the back seat of your car, making sure to get them warm as they rested their large head on the seat; the muzzle bloodied and soaked, their eyes remained closed as if in a heavy sleep, “I hope though.”

You made your way back to the practice in record time: using the back entrance and double-checking that you were still alone. No sign of Nicholas anywhere which got you pondering. You heaved the injured wolf onto the gurney, laying them flat as you rushed to get everything you needed.

One IV drip, a box of first aid and water later and you had gotten it set up, watching with your fingers twiddling, chewing them in silent contemplation, watching over the poor creature. “Where was Nick when you need him?” He thought aloud, your hand coming to get your phone from the table.

Speak of the devil, and he will appear: you hand stopped when you heard the back door trembling and squeak, someone trying to come in when you clearly remember shutting and locking it when you were inside. You would have to apologise for it, but you wanted to work with no disruptions.

You hurried to the door, opening it to see the large man in front of you, towering in the doorframe. Nick had grown to be the tallest still of his brothers and just as muscular as them, from a little boy who was as scrawny as a chicken. His deep amber eyes staring you down as you hesitated with your words. 

“I can explain.” You began.

“You can explain later, right now you’re lucky I’m not calling an ambulance for you.” His voice was a deep timbre, his large arms coming to circle your shoulders, squeezing them, his tall figure lowering so he was more to your height. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Nicky,” Your face breaking out into a smile, puffing out your chest, “Nothing can take me down.” 

“That’s good, you’re hard as nails, stronger than Rhys that’s for a fact.” Nicholas cracked a broad smile, seeming to recollect, before he head rose, eyes alert as if he had sensed something sour in the air. “Is she here?”

“How do you know it’s a female?” You questioned, moving aside as he powered in, seeming to know on instinct where to find her, you trailing behind him when you had entered the small room; the light flickering as you had looked around to familiarise yourself. 

It seemed... odd for Nicholas to know something like that when you hadn’t told him.

“Where is she?” Nick asked, your eyes trailing to where the large wolf had once been lying on the gurney, now nothing was left as if the wolf had disappeared in a puff of smoke; only remaining the IV drip that had been discarded to the floor.

“She was here, I swear.” Your heart dropped at the thought, a wild animal wandering and prowling in the practice, or maybe had even escaped back into the outside world, but you would’ve been certain you would’ve heard something like a window crash open.

“She didn’t get too far, she’s still here,” Again, another odd comment for someone who wasn't there, but Nick scanned the room with the expertise of a detective, his eyes suddenly widening as he called your name, abruptly grabbing you and pulling you to him with inhumane speed. “Get back!”

You knew without Nick there pulling you out the way you would’ve been possibly hurt, but you had expected something to scamper out from the darkness of the small room. Your eyes thought that you had seen bare flesh, muddied and caked, a figure rushing past you on its hind legs.

“Nick!” You hesitated, feeling the larger man pull you away to the wall as he blocked the entrance with his strong frame, your eyes finally landing on what was scampering in the room. 

You took in their bare flesh, a young woman as naked as the day she had been born standing in the room in a defensive stance, back hunched, as panicked and feral as a stray.

The woman snapped and snarled towards him, her dark hair the same colour as the dirt splattered on her pale skin, hazel enlarged eyes taking in any route of another exit.

“Easy,” Nicholas brought her back to look at him, her head snapping back to the man in the entranceway, a hand coming up to hold her attention, his voice relaxed and calm, “Antonia.”

“Fuck off,” the woman hissed, her voice riddled with paranoia. You had seen this behaviour in nervous dogs; dogs that didn’t want to be in an unknown place when they were afraid. It was even more confusing about how Nick knew her. “I don’t need your help.” 

“You do, you’re confused.” Nicholas consoled her gently, slowly removing his jacket from him, his eyes never leaving her. “You’re injured, please don’t do anything that will worsen your health.”

The woman known as ‘Antonia’ seemed to visibly calm down in her spot, her hunched shoulders relaxing, watching with nervous eyes as Nick handed her his jacket. With no hesitation, she snatched it off him, before quickly putting it on to cover herself.

“Good, good, sit down, you’re safe here.” Nicholas motioned, his eyes landing to you in the back corner of the room, your eyes wide like dinner plates. In his amber eyes, you read the one thing that must’ve been on your mind since this entire hassle.

‘I’ll explain everything, I promise.’

-

You handed the barely dressed female a glass of water, gently putting it on the table she sat on, watching her short legs swinging as stared the two of you down. “So, she’s a wolf?” Your voice gradually came back to you when you could finally speak.

“A werewolf, yeah-- our kind has lived in these areas for a few hundred years,” Nicholas explained sparingly, and when you turned to him, you gave him a quizzical look. “Our? Which means-”

“I’m a werewolf.” He confessed, looking over your reactions as you looked back over Antonia. “My job is to rehabilitate rogue wolves who have been rejected by their pack.”

Nicholas looked to you, gauging your reaction through your facial expressions. “Say something at least.”

“What is there to say, really? You turn into a big wolf every full moon when I thought all of that was just scary fairy tales that I read when I was a kid.” You sighed. “Nicky, why did you never tell me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you or you think I was mad.” His voice resounded in his throat, moving his eyes dejected. “You’re my friend, and I didn’t want that to go away.”

“Hey, you’re my friend, and you will always be my friend, no matter if you’re a werewolf or human,” you cracked a smile, chortling to yourself, “maybe the big bad wolf should be your new nickname.”

“Oh please.” Nick was next to laugh over the silence. When you finally looked back over to him, your mind wandered back to the rejected wolf. “What do we do with her?”

“She’ll need somewhere to stay for a while, whilst I find her a new pack or somewhere to live momentarily.” Nick sighed to himself as if already knowing something you didn’t. “Which comes the next thing that you will hate.”

You crossed your eyes over your chest, dreading the question that would be asked for you. “You want me to look after her?”

“Look, it won’t be for long, just until I find her a good place to live, somewhere that will keep her safe and she will be wanted.” He pleaded, “It won’t be for long, I promise, and I’ll make it up to you after.”

Your bottom lip came out in thought, sighing in defeat as you knew you couldn’t say no to him. “You owe me ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” Nicholas grinned, welcoming you into a tight hug. “Thank you--- you make this easier for me.”

-

The door to your small house swung open, your new roommate came bounding in with excited curiosity, sniffing around the new place she would be staying in. You, on the other hand, had heaps of shopping and new clothes you had just bought for Antonia, your arms failing to hold everything up.

“Okay, the bathroom is on the right, you can have the couch, it becomes a sofa bed, Nick said-- hey, don’t touch that!” You threw the bags to the kitchen counter, glaring over at the brunette, “Toni, are you listening?”

Antonia seemed to drop what seemed to be your Alexa with a clunk to the floor, luckily it had been carpet down to lessen the blow, as she trained her eyes on you once more, “What did you call me?” Her hazel eyes were wide with keenness.  

“Ah crap, no I didn’t realise, I’m sorry, it’s only because I don’t know many Antonia’s—and I thought Toni was a cute nickname –”

“– No, don’t worry about it,” The she-wolf gave a small smile to herself, and you could’ve sworn her cheeks had deepened into a flush pink, “I like it.”

Antonia had spent a couple more weeks with you, feeding her seemed to be a nightmare (for a girl her size, she ate twice as much as you, thrice more if a wolf, especially when raiding the bins) and bringing her back to her normal weight – which fortunately didn’t take too long.

Her skin was flush with colour, her deep brown hair became full of life, her eyes did too when you got to open her up little by little, each day being a step to progress and learning more about her. There was little to know about her previous life in a pack, but you were sure that you would accidentally do something to provoke her.

You laid out a blanket in the abyss of your garden, the sparkling golden fairy lights brought the area to feel whimsical and full of wonder; the flush plaid blanket kept your bare legs warm in the cool air, waiting.

The silver moon was once again out, full and brighter as a silver coin; a full moon, and you were waiting patiently.

“I knew I could find you here.” The voice of Toni brought your attention on her as she appeared through the small trail of brushes and flowers slowly, treading barefoot to come to you bare as the day she had been when you first saw her. You had been courteous to not look at her body; the shape she had built although she was still quite lithe.

“Thought I could spare you some time out here.” You threw over your own t-shirt long enough that you slept in it to her, hearing the crumpling of it go over her head as she came to sit down beside you. From this light, her skin glowed beneath the moon, her eyes hauntingly beautiful.

“It’s nice out here.” You breathed in the fresh smell of moss and yellow wood. “Not the same as running barefoot across it, now that’s the best feeling in the world.” Toni stretched out before you like a cat beneath the sun rays, and it made you ponder what it would be like owning the small animal, living together.

“Toni—there is something I wanted to ask you.” Your mouth was dry from the apple cider you had laid out before the two of you; it must’ve gone to my head.

“What is it?” She asked peacefully, turning to look back on you. From her eyes alone, you thought you could’ve melted. “Nick called me today, he told me… he said that he found you a place, a place of your own for a community to live among.” You forced a smile onto your lips, wanting to believe she would be better off without you. “How amazing is that?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Her voice lingered, and you looked back on her puzzled. “What’s wrong? Is it not what you want?”

“I lived all my life in a pack relying on people when they didn’t want me. A bitch from the Seventh Hell, Rogue She-Wolf-- I was an outsider, never truly belonging with anyone. I’m done living with a pack, done with never feeling wanted when all I wanted was to live alone.” Her words were calm with how she responded, but you knew deep down, they hurt.

“What happened in your old pack, Toni? What did they do?”

Toni gave a chortle, nonchalantly looking to the ground as she picked at the weeds. “My parents thought they could marry me off to the Alpha- a big brute of one who was more of a monster than man. I declined the offer, but it must’ve pissed him off to of been the one rejected, so, he got some of his friends to come to find me, and well...” her hand came to restlessly play with her hair, her words drying, “They weren’t good with me, nor did they stop when I begged for them-- pleaded with them.”

Your immediate response was to circle an arm around her, bringing her close to you as you hugged her close. “You will never be treated like that again, I promise.”

“That’s the thing, wherever I go, to this place or if I go back, they’ll always be someone like them waiting to latch themselves onto me.” A wrack of a sob went through her, and you coddled her how a mother would calm their child.

“I don’t want to go.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

You were quick to ask, too quick to think about it. “What about here? Why not stay here? Unless you have grown bored of me.”

Toni gave a sad laugh, coming close as she raised her head, landing her soft lips against your cheek. You stared down at her, astonished, your cheeks blushing. “You’ve always been so kind to me and I don’t understand why. So many times I have believed you were annoyed with and never once did you send me off.” She said your name in a soft murmur. “Thank you.”

The two of you looked at one another, and never did you realise how close she was to you, her faint breath a gentle kiss against your face, and when you looked down to her lips with a sheepish look, she leant closer into you.

She looked nervously back to you briefly, as if hesitant. “You and Nick aren’t-”

You cottoned on to her words. “Oh God no.” You laughed brightly. “And besides, there’s this half-elf who he sees around that he doesn’t have the balls to ask out. But I always try to get him to - Mmph!”

Antonia had leant close to you with her hand cradling the side of your face, pulling you to her as she pressed her lips to ours, reassured and growing confidence. You brought your hands to go around her waist, feeling her soft skin as you squeezed at her hips.

You pulled away with a gasp, and the knowing smirk from Toni, her bright grin was enough to bring the two of you to start giggling, enclosed by the peaceful nightfall.

You didn’t need to be reminded that she would leave, not in a very long time anyway. And besides, she had you now.

[sweebat]

Short segment of an au I have. 2k mini-fic under the line. 

Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence

“Drake…?”

Standing at a height of over twenty feet tall, armed with razor-sharp fangs and poignant talons and claws, with its muscular body adorned with thick armor and glimmering scales that illuminated through the darkness of the night, the beast loomed over the motionless body of his dragon—his childhood friend whom Ryouga raised since he was a hatchling.

Drake laid upon the moist ground in a bloodbath. His limbs were strewn about in a haphazard manner as though he was tossed and thrown around like a ragdoll. Along the entire length of his body, spreading from his face to his chest, torso, flippers and all, were deep, gaping wounds. Burn marks littered his skin. His arms and legs harbored bite marks and scratches with entire chunks of flesh missing. The leather of his wings was shredded until only a handful of loose sheets remained, dangling from the frame by mere threads of tissue alone. His blood leaked into the soil as much as it stained the rest of his scales. But then, Ryouga caught sight of it. At the base of his throat, Drake’s impermeable hide peeled away, leaving behind a dark crater that oozed with his own blood. The loose flesh struggled to hang onto his body as best as they could; however, even from his position, he saw that the wound deep enough to reveal bones underneath. With his throat torn out, his poor dragon suffocated in his own blood and…

The other behemoth snarled lowly as it inspected its mauled prey.

Ryouga tore his attention away from Drake and towards the killer.

Frozen with fear, the man watched while the massive dragon hovered over the corpse. Blood trickled from its crimson-soaked mouth. A slimy, purple tongue slithered out from the crevice of its maw before stroking along the bloodied pathway along its lips. It lapped up the remaining fluids before releasing a low bellow, a satisfied rumble of some sort.

A lightheadedness overtook Ryouga as the scope of the tragedy set in. His heart sank into the pits of his stomach, pounding heavily while doing so. His lungs refused to breath, and when it did, it was short, erratic, and ragged. His hands trembled, and his legs quivered. A painful bubble swelled at the back of his throat—tears formed at the corners of his eyes, worsening his blurred vision before a single blink cleared his sight for a brief moment.

“N-No…” Ryouga uttered.

Decades of raising his dragon, all that work and care and…

The iridescent dragon ushered another snarl. With its massive teeth protruding from its maw, the dragon leaned towards the fallen Drake. Its mouth unhinged completely, and it prepared to devour and further mutilate the body of his cherished companion.

His frozen hands balled into a tight fist.

His sadness shifted into a fit of rage.

Without a hesitant thought, he screamed at the glowing dragon. “Get away from him!”

The gigantic monster came to a sudden halt. It steadily closed its mouth while raising its head and turning away from the dragon below it. Before Ryouga knew it, a pair of glowing eyes pierced down at him. It released a low growl as the spiny armor running down its backside gradually rose in agitation. The dragon hunched onto hinds, twisting its body until it faced the small human standing behind. The spines and scales on its backside fanned outward, adding more girth to its already-impressive size.

Ryouga flinched when it locked its eyes onto him, but he shoved the fearful sensation into the depths of his heart.

He refused to let this fucker eat his friend. “Come on, you bastard!” He barked at it, swinging his arms to affirm its attention on him.

It unleashed a deafening roar.

The ear-piercing sound caused him to recoil in pain, but as he was recovering from the stunning effect, the large dragon lunged towards him. Its tuckered wings extended outward fully, engulfing the area in its shadow—with the same illumination as the rest of its form, the shroud of light from its wings blinded Ryouga, forcing him to cover his face with his arm if he valued his eyesight.

As he braced himself for a fatal impact, for claws to pierce through his skin, or fangs to rip his body in half, crushed in the powerful jaws of the beast—

A sharp whistle reverberated through the field.

Seconds passed. Ryouga noticed that the light was prominent, still, yet his body remained intact; not crushed or swallowed or blasted into oblivion.

He slowly lowered his arms. Eyes squinted to nullify the effects of the bright light, the first thing he saw was a gigantic, bloodied snout hovering inches away from him.

“Gah!” He cried as he stumbled backwards and away from the merciless killer. The spontaneous movement as well as his shock caused him to lose his balance. With a noisy thud, he fell onto his back.

The dragon, however, remained motionless.

Another whistle rang out—this one sounded more like a specific and ghastly tune than a single sharp noise.

Like an obedient dog responding to the commands of its master, the large beast retracted from the human, folding its wings back towards his backside; although, it released a series of low growls and grumbles as it did so.

“You really are foolish if you thought you could go up against my galaxy-eyes.” A deep voice sounded from above Ryouga’s position.

He jumped in surprise at the voice of person, and then he jerked his head towards the source of the sound, towards a small, rocky outcrop overlooking the clearing.

Through the radiance of the dragon, he caught the clear form of a humanoid. A man, in fact. The man stood on the rocks with his chin held high, arms crossed, legs straight. He gazed down at Ryouga with callous bluish-gray eyes—it harbored a hint of arrogance that crawled under his skin and infuriated him. The man’s blond hair was bulbous, almost, with a curled tip at the ends. Dark teal bangs encircled the base of his yellow hair, where it appeared almost like a crown of antlers. White trousers with a white undercoat, as well as white leather gloves, clung onto his pale and toned body. A large metallic belt wrapped around his waist, and attached to it were bundles of small, brown sacks. Over this, he wore a dark coat with a flaring tailcoat lined with markings of some sort, but Ryouga was too far away to tell what they were. He was dressed modestly with class, yet by his rugged appearance, he appeared more like a lone bounty hunter than a law-abiding enforcer.

Ryouga’s eyes hardened into a fierce glare. Shaking with rage, he scrambled to his feet before screaming at the newcomer. “That thing’s yours!” He pointed at the monster, the galaxy-eyes. “It murdered my friend, you fucking bastard!”

The man scoffed. “Friend? That thing of yours is no friend.”

His teeth gritted. Ryouga raised a fist, and the desire to pummel this guy into a pulp rose exponentially. “What did ya say!”

“It’s a Number,” explained the blond matter-of-factly, as through the designation was enough to justify Drake’s death. “My job is to exterminate every single Number out there. It’s not my problem that your so-called ‘friend’ happens to be one.”

Before he could berate the stranger for killing his dragon for no particular reason—and even if he had one, Ryouga would still be furious—the man continued.

“I was going to let my galaxy-eyes nourish himself, but I guess I could have a heart and let you finish mourning whatever’s left of it.”

“You bastard! You’re gonna pay for this!”

The man snorted in amusement. Finished with the conversation, the blond whistled yet another tune.

The galaxy-eyes rumbled lowly. Its wings gradually unfolded once more. After reaching its maximum length of several meters long per wing, the dragon propelled into the air through a series of gradual flaps. The gusts of wind knocked Ryouga off his feet, while the man above remained unfazed by the increasing flurries. The dragon took to the high skies; in a wide turn, it swooped down at the man on the rock.

Ryouga could do nothing but watch as the dragon quickly seized its master in its claws before launching above the canopy of the forest. The dragon and the man disappeared over the tip of the leaves, and as the distance between Ryouga and the killers grew more and more with each passing second, the powerful glow diminished until it disappeared entirely.

Ryouga was left alone with no one except for the cold body of his dragon.

He growled in annoyance. They got away so easily, but then he let out a frustrated sigh. There was nothing to be done about that even if he wanted to…

He turned his head to the large, unmoving form a little while away. The earth around him was scorched, yet it was also moistened by the blood spilling from his lifeless companion.

He somberly staggered over to Drake. A shaky hand stroked across the water dragon’s tough beak and smooth scales. As his fingers ran down the surface, it stained itself in the dragon’s blood. He stopped as his bloodied fingers traced under a hazy and dull eye.

His anger dissolved into sadness.

Not even an hour ago, the dragon was nuzzling into his lap, purring and lively, and now…

“Drake…”

Utterly exhausted, with his arms wrapped around the dragon, uncaring of the crimson sludge that smeared on him as he did so, Ryouga shifted into unconsciousness, wondering what he was supposed to do now that his dragon was gone.

— —

He awoke at the dawn of sunrise to the sound of boots on gravel. It was approaching him from behind—slowly, steadily, but not discreetly.

Who…

“You are grieving,” stated an unknown voice. It was high-pitched and child-like, but at least he knew it wasn’t that jackass from last night.

Ryouga grunted. He held onto the stiff body of his dragon. Off the corner of his eyes, he noticed scavengers creeping their way from the edge of the clearing to the exposed wounds, starving to pick the flesh off of the bones.

An annoyed growl erupted from him. “What does it look like.” He snapped at the child, or whoever this was.

He just wanted to be left alone.

The child laughed. “It looks like you want revenge.”

Ryouga froze upon hearing the assumption.

He jerked his body around. How does this kid know—

It was him.

A child bearing a metal mask—he heard of this mysterious figure in passing within towns.

The boy stood there with the horizon rays of sunlight illuminating him from behind, making it difficult to examine him apart from the most jarring characteristic of the boy. Engulfing his entire face was a silver, elegant mask. It had a slit for his right eye and half of his mouth, but other than that, the rest of the area was covered completely, making very difficult to read his expressions.  

“What are you doing here,” he started with caution.

He heard that this child was a pawn of some otherworldly beings.

He heard that this child had no soul.

He heard that this child was not to be mingled with.

“I simply sensed your sadness.” The child laughed. “And I have a way to get rid it.”

Get rid of his sadness…?

“No thanks,” Ryouga muttered before turning around. He looked down at Drake. The dragon’s eyes glazed over, and it appeared more lifeless than ever.

As much as he wanted revenge against the murderers, it won’t bring his dragon back to life.

The child manifested directly over him, standing less than a foot away from where he kneeled. “What if I said you can bring him back to life and let you have your revenge?”

Ryouga jumped backwards in shock at the sudden appearance. As he absorbed the words of the child—"You—You read my thoughts!?“

The child giggled manically. "Perhaps~”

His eyes squinted. He had no idea what this child was playing at, but the thought of it intrigued him. Although skeptical, he pressed on. “What… What do you mean by that? What sorta trick is this?”

“No trick,” answered the child. The child ran his gloved hand across Drake’s scales. The blood was dried by now, and the stroke was so light that it left no stains on the flawless silk. “I mean exactly as I said. Your little precious dragon will be reborn, and you can get your revenge on that meanie Kaito for hurting him.”

“Kaito, huh…”

The child’s smile grew wide behind his mask. “There are powerful forces out there, Ryouga,"—he never told him his name—"and I can connect you back to them.”

[monstersandmaw]

Embers - male dragon shifter x reader, Part Thirteen (sfw)

Hey folks - sorry I didn’t post it yesterday. Here it is, at 6.30am on a Saturday for you instead! And we finally get a glimpse of Mikaeïl in his... bigger form too...

Next week is our final chapter! I can’t believe it! Thank you so much to those of you who’ve let me know you’re enjoying it, and to those of you who have reminded me (on more than one occasion!!) that Friday means Embers day, and where the hell is the story, Ghosti!! haha.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

Mikaeïl’s request that you ‘bring something warm to wear’ for your weekend with him confused and mystified the hell out of you. Added to that, he absolutely refused to give you any more information about it, so you found yourself driving over to his house with a number of different jumpers and coats packed, and a knot of anxious tension in your stomach.

It didn’t help that he’d texted you before you’d set off to say, ‘When you get here, come round the side of the house to the back terrace.’ And that had been it.

So, dutifully, you followed the gravel path around the side of his huge, sandstone, ancestral mansion, and emerged onto the upper lawns.

At the sight that greeted you, your fingers lost their strength and you dropped your weekend-bag to the ground.

Standing on the lawn, resting his huge, coppery wing on the thumb joint like a bat, was a gleaming wyvern. Large, perhaps thirty foot tall when he drew his head up to its full height, with metallic scales the same colour as those you’d seen on his human body, ranging from bright copper to tarnished bronze and even gold along the crest of his back, Mikaeïl was stunning.

Drawn by the movement of your arrival, he watched you fall still and stare openly at him, though a soft, familiar, low-frequency rumbling pervaded the whole garden, and the sound of it stirred you back to life.

Leaving your bag where it lay abandoned on the sunny gravel path, you walked over to him with awe etched onto your face, and breathed, “Mikaeïl?”

The wyvern nodded once, slowly, golden eyes glinting.

“Can you talk when you’re like this?” you asked as you continued to approach him.

“I can talk,” he said, though his voice was different. It still had all the delicate enunciation of the Mikaeïl you knew, but it was richer, far more sonorous, and much deeper.

When you were standing beside him, you raised your palm, barely noticing the trembling excitement in your fingers, and pressed it gently against his cool scales.

He lowered his head and sank his body to the ground, lying down for you like a colossal dog while you just explored the miraculous strangeness of his incredible body. “You’re so beautiful…” you whispered. Two horns curved back over his head, the same ruby-red, flecked with gold, that you knew from his other form, only they were so much larger like this.

“God, Mikaeïl,” you chuckled in wonderment. “You are just so beautiful…” He was; fabergé looked like they could have taken inspiration from him for one of their unbelievable creations.

If wyverns could blush, you suspected Mikaeïl might well have done. As it was, his nostrils flared, and his head shied away slightly, showing off the beautiful array of spikes at the edges of his jaw and head, and he rumbled something again more deeply. In response, you put your palm on his deep chest and felt the vibrations of it shiver through you.

Suddenly, the penny dropped about the clothing, and your eyes went wide. “Mikaeïl… when you said to bring warm stuff to wear… You’re not… We’re… We’re not going to…”

A slow, deep laugh rolled out of him and he shifted his weight slightly, drawing your eye from his glimmering scales - each one like hand-hammered bronze - down to his clawed hind feet and the tip of his wing which rested on a single, massive, taloned thumb. While you waited for his reply, your fingers wandered to the leathery, sunset-yellow membrane of his wing, right near the knuckle which propped him up, and a shudder ran through him, all the way to his barbed tail.

“Sensitive?” you murmured with a wry smile.

“Mmm,” he rumbled, lowering his head and slowly, luxuriantly, inhaling the scent of your skin right by your neck. “How do you feel about going for a short flight?” he asked softly.

“Honestly…?” you said breathlessly, “I have no idea. I’ve never, uh… flown before. I mean, not like that…”

“Test flight?” he asked.

“Please tell me that you don’t have spines on your back because I’m not sitting on that and trying to cling on…”

Mikaeïl laughed his rich, deep laugh and said, “Take a closer look at the junction of my neck and shoulders…”

He rolled slightly towards you but still you couldn’t see the top of his back properly, so in the end he had to help you up with his wing like a leg-up onto a horse. His back was smooth for perhaps a foot and a half between the end of his sinuous neck and the start of his back - the perfect space for someone to sit. You ran your hand over the space and he shivered again.  

“It’s like it was made for someone to sit here,” you commented.

“Not quite,” he said dryly, “But my family were royal guards, a thousand years ago - which is why we have three forms: human, half human, and this. We have been known to carry royalty into battle or over long distances…”

“Royalty,” you cooed as he lowered you back to the ground. “Nice… You sure I’m worthy? I’ve never even sat on a motorbike, let alone a wyvern…”

Again, Mikaeïl laughed at your sense of humour, and nuzzled his nose affectionately against your stomach while you rubbed his forehead. His head was as big as a small couch and it was going to take some getting used to, but he was so damned gorgeous that you could hardly process the fact that this magnificent creature was the Mikaeïl you’d come to know.

“Put on a coat to keep warm while we fly, and I’ll take you for a little trial run… if you like. You don’t have to though…”

“You’ve got something else planned though, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But it’s alright if you don’t want to fly there.”

“No, let’s try it,” you said, as you scuttled back to your bag and dug out the warmest coat you had. You imagined that with the wind rushing past you, even on such a sunny day, it would be cold.

And you were right.

You clambered warily onto his back, settling yourself in the smooth crook of his shoulders, nestled at the base of his neck and the start of his hugely muscular wings. Conveniently, he had two large horn-like spikes at the base of his neck, to which you clung for dear life as he began to flap his wings, trying to get some lift. You clamped your thighs around him as tightly as you could and leaned forward, honestly terrified.

“I won’t let you hurt yourself,” he promised and then you lurched upwards into the sky.

The ground rushed away beneath you and he continued to rise in jerky movements that made your stomach churn and drop each time. Eventually he had climbed as high as the roof of the mansion, and began to glide, the canvas of his great wings spread to catch the air, and you tried hard not to lose your breakfast all over his beautiful scales.

Mikaeïl did one lap of the parkland of his property and then began to descend gradually, spiralling down until the ground rushed up to meet you and he landed with a jolt that his body absorbed before it could throw you from your tenuous position atop his back.

“Alright?” he asked nervously, tilting his head to one side to see you out of the corner of his golden eye.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, with your heart still pounding in your ears, you nodded and swallowed. “Yeah,” you croaked. It had felt like a rollercoaster ride, only much, much wilder. “That was… amazing…!”

His laugh rippled through you and he said, “Why don’t you stow your bag in the conservatory, and if you could lock up, that would be amazing. Then if you’re alright with it, I want to take you somewhere a little further away.”

You nodded, slithering and landing weak-kneed on the grass beside him.  “Come here first,” you said, crooking your finger and beckoning his head closer.

He obliged, curious and amusedly wary, and when his muzzle was level with your face, you took his smooth, leathery head in your hands and kissed him squarely on the tip of his nose. His laugh came out as a warm blast of air through his nostrils, ruffling your hair, and you laughed too as he closed his eyes for a moment, clearly enjoying the closeness and the contact.

Nudging you playfully away after a minute or so, he rumbled happily, the sound halfway between an alligator and an elephant, only much deeper and louder, and you trotted off to do as he requested.

Once back, you ran your hands over his shoulder and chest again, letting the deep, appreciative sounds thrum through you, and watching as he closed his eyes again in pleasure. “You’re going to cause trouble if you keep touching me like that,” he said eventually. “And then I won’t be able to fly.”

“Not decently, anyway,” you grinned and he shook his head, laughter dancing in his yellow eyes.

“Get back on board and we’ll go before you render me incapable of flight altogether.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” you asked coyly and were met with a snarl that held no danger.

“Get. On.” he said but the fierceness of his tone was ruined by the laugh that bubbled out of him immediately afterwards.

“Fine,” you pouted, and clambered back on his back the same way you’d done before.  

With a final glance up at you, those eyes turned serious and he said, “Are you ready? Comfortable?”

“Yeah. How long will we be in the air?”

“About twenty minutes,” he said. “You let me know if you need me to land though, alright?”

You nodded, and he turned his attention away from you, hind claws gripping the earth as his great leathery wings, the colour of saffron, began to beat again, and he lifted skywards once again.

To be concluded next week...

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