#Modern day cryptid

[mothmans-led-lamp]

The pictures of bigfoot aren't fuzzy because of camera quality. They're fuzzy because bigfoot is inherently fuzzy. Who says cryptid have to be rendered? Dude is chilling in the woods living his 16-bit life, leave him alone

#cryptid #bigfoot #cryptids #Bigfoot memes #Cryptid memes #Modern day cryptid

[phoenixcatch7]

Why can't we have a batman is the spirit of Gotham au?

He already is, in meta, in character, in theming. Him and the joker. He is so very built upon what Gotham is made of, and Gotham builds from what he needs in turn, the setting of his story.

What if that is the reason he can take damage that would permanently ruin a physical career and come back? What if that's how he's managed to maintain his no-kill streak to such an extent? What if that's how he manages to maintain such high maintenance and all consuming identities?

For the heart and soul of a city containing all extremes, the richest nobility and the lowest of the poor, the cruellest villains and the most compassionate heroes, orphaned children and ancient lineages, a city rooted in fear and madness and grit-teeth determination and hard won kindness, what better choice could you find than Bruce Wayne?

But what if he wasn't alone in that? What if Gotham has sunk to such a low because its spirit is damaged and corrupted?

For the heart and soul of the cruellest city in the dc universe, the most unrelenting and uncaring, the one that practically laughs at your pain and suffering as you try to make it through another day, what better choice than the Joker?

#Batman v joker is yin yang up down left right it's the oroborus #Like it's possibly one of the most famous arch enemies of modern day lmao #Something something what if there was an actual reason b couldn't kill joker?? Like if joker died it'd kill him too. #Unbalance the incredibly fragile equilibrium b has spent decades fighting for #Like those threatre masks. Love theatre mask symbolism. But the batman is the smiling one and the joker is the frowning one #Its apathy vs compassion. Someone made a really good post about it a while ago but I can't find it ToT #But yeah imagine if b found out about the whole city spirit thing and freaked out it until he found out it was him. #Like full on possessive trawls through research and 'no I'm fine' to everyone watching and lying awake fuming and then it's all fine #Except now he can have an existential crisis because he never realised lmao. Idk maybe the waynes were infertile and he was a surprise baby #Maybe there's no hint he wasn't entirely human until he had the option opened to him. #Like he just thought all his weirdnesses were just from one of the various things he never got official diagnoses for #Which he still is! Some things were just supernatural lol #The kids are laughing at him but they've got the Gotham spirit of the protection which is how they're all (mostly) still alive lmao #Batman #Bruce Wayne #Cryptid batman #Gotham spirit au #Fic idea #Story idea #Batfam #Batfamily #Dc comics #Gotham #Dc city spirits

[modern-cryptids]

Image description below read more

The title above the comic reads 'morel'. In the first panel, the mushroom from the prior comic is revealed to have a long body clothed in muddy overalls and has two paw like feet that are also dirty. She looks tired. She says, "thanks for digging me out." There is a little arrow pointing to him that says 'dirty'. The second panel has Alphie concernedly asking, "how'd you end up in the mud, kid?" He replies, "was put there", while fretting. The two of them walk off together. Alphie says, "I'm Alphie." The mushroom says, "Morel." Alphie replies, "c'mon, Morel, I know a good river to put you in next."

#modern cryptids #webcomic #comic #morel uses he and she pronouns i will be posting character bios one of these days #alphie uses they them

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Batman: Battle for the Cowl (2009)

He is beautiful and correct. And his muzzle is a .…. repurposed cheese grater.

He’s perfect

#marry me Jason I will always do right by you #my post #miss Nocturna I saw you for like 2 seconds pls come back and take your son they’re mistreating him again #‘he’s too unhinged’ first of all you’re wrong second of all I’d rather have him have his peace of mind and cause organized chaos #on his own terms than see him get the rag doll treatment he keeps getting in modern comics. any day. #he doesn’t need fixing and he certainly doesn’t need to kill less #anyway he’s doing all the signature cryptid batman stances too #he’s having his fun #he built his own little batcave. with bat-eared batcomputers. #I have to make a post about Jason still having underlying respect and admiration for Bruce/Batman during this era #it’s amusing sure #but babygirl why. #batman jason #dc #bftc #comic panels

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

(modern hisui au) Volo posts his terrible experience on the pokemon equivalent of twitter and somehow goes viral.

#bigclawisreal

FUCKING DYING

actually yknow the other absolutely stupid internet idea i cant let go of is twitch streamer melli. because. it's so universally hilarious to me. i don't think he's a Big One (we are disregarding how the fuck he manages to stream video of any kind of quality from this barely-counts-as-a-town ok just go with it) but the concept of him complaining about literally everything to his chat is so fucking funny

his Roommate is not permitted to appear on stream (and has no desire to) but oh MAN is there just like, a designated Roommate Bitching Hour on longstreams and the complaints are increasingly insane. melli seems like the kind of person who would staunchly refuse to believe in cryptids so he would mock "that time he SAYS he saw a bigclaw" to no end

#the nemesis answers #the nemesis speaks #answrs #modern hisui #the concept of volo's day being ruined by cryptid sneasler is so funny bc NOBODY would believe him #and he's like I SWEAR IT WASN'T MY FAULT. THERE WAS. THERE WAS A THING #and ginter and kamado are just like stop making excuses

[my-bread]

I would love to be that cryptic person who just sits in their house all day and has everything delivered to them, let my neighbors wonder who I am, and let the local children make up stories about me.

#i want to be a modern day cryptid

[gaiussleechtank]

In some random modern Arthur returns au, Merlin would be living in this small little everyone knows everyone village. And magic or not sorta world, everyone knows that Merlin is much older than he looks, that's he's lived there for a very long time and just keeps to himself most of the time.

Then Arthur comes crawling out of the lake and joins Merlin in the village, living at his sweet wee cottage.

And the little everyone knows everyone community goes mental that this new and random guy just starts living with the town cryptid.

One day, both Merlin and Arthur are at the town's only cafe/restaurant/ literal hole in the wall, and someone finally works up the courage to ask how the two met.

Arthur, still getting used to the modern world and trying to be very polite to the villagers: we knew each other when we were younger

Merlin who no longer gives two shits: yeah, and then I found him at the lakeside bleeding out from a stab wound after he had escaped a crazy cult

The poor person who now regrets asking: oh... That's nice?

#Merlin would just say the stupidest stuff thats actually true #Arthur has a heart attack over everything #The poor villagers just get used to both of their shit #And are also very happy that theyre seeing Merlin so happy #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merthur #merthur #arthur returns #in this essay i will

[oosleepyfaeoo]

A Kiss Is All I Need

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Chapter Two

Summary: 2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. 2 months crying and feeling like shit but that all stopped when he meet you on that dreadful clothing store.

Warnings: Nothing much yet, just little fluff.

Words: 1,167

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Taglist: @zenka69 @cryptid-l0ver @saelwen-shy-elf @aemondsdelight @shari-berri @kckt88 @watercolorskyy @dae7tina @saturnssrings @dixie-elocin @arabis-world @tulips2715 @reedmurdock @ladythornofrivia @tssf-imagines @eeeeeevesstuff @venmondiese @bellaisasleep @darylandbethfanforever9 @snh96 @liv-cole

Aemond took a deep breath as he stood in front of your bakery. ‘The Faun Cottage’ was the name of your store. The display window was decorated with beautiful green leaves and antique books which served to hold cakes and baskets of bread.

He was dressed in a light white shirt with a leather jacket, black jeans, and super comfortable Doctor Martens, which he wears almost every day. His long hair was tied in a low ponytail.

Looking down at the watch on his wrists, he saw it was 2 pm already. “Here goes nothing,” he murmurs as he walks into the bakery. “You better be right, Aegon.”

The scent of fresh bread and coffee along with a sweet herbal smell hit his nose like a train. Inside the shop, it was warm and cozy. Green vines are climbing the walls into the ceiling and some ancient runes are painted on the stone walls which looks like a mix of cottage core with Celtic/Viking vibe. A faint medieval music played in the background. It looks like something from an ancient era.

There are some people seated eating their food, others reading or working while drinking their tea or coffee.

“Mommy! Mommy! My Prince is here!” Emily’s voice echoed through the shop, grabbing his attention. This time she was dressed in a simple brown dress with some hand-painted runes on it. Her black hair was braided, and two small antlers rested on her head.

Aemond smiles down at her and kneels to shake her tiny hand. “Hello, Emily.” He greets her gently. “And what do you suppose to be today?”

She gives him a little twirl and grins. “I’m a druid! I talk to animals and cure people's booboos with my magic!” The girl grabs his hand and pulls him towards the door behind the counter, saying a quick hello to the guy who was attending to a client.

Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him. “Hmm, I see.”

Emily opens the door and leads him inside. It was an office by the looks and by the desk full of papers and a laptop, stood a very stressed woman.

“Mommy! Look who’s here!” Emily chirps happily.

You looked up from your papers and gave him a tired smile. “Aemond... I’m happy to see you. Please take a seat.” You try to make your office table more presentable, putting all the paperwork in cases. “Sorry for the mess. It’s been a busy day. Maria needed the day off so I took over her work and... it didn’t go well.”

Aemond sat on the wooden chair in front of you while Emily went to the corner to play with her plush animals. “It’s no problem... Here’s my papers, all the training I did.” He gives you the case. “By the way, you have a lovely bakery. Very creative.”

The grin you gave him made Aemond’s heart almost burst out of his chest. Your eyes brightened at his compliment and how the dimples on your cheeks made you look so cute and innocent.

“Thank you! It was a lot of work to make it the way I imagined but it was worth it.” You say taking a seat on your chair. “So, shall we start with the interview?”

Aemond nods.

“Okay! So, your brother said you had experience with children. Your nephews, right?” Aemond nods again.

“Yes, my sister's children. Twins, a girl, Jaehaera, and a boy, Jaehaerys, of 8 years old, and toddler of 2 years old, Maelor.” Aemond smiled gently at the thought of his nephews.

You took notice of his gentleness as he talked about his nephews, which made you feel more relaxed with the idea of him taking care of Emily.

“They all have beautiful names.” You speak. “I’m not going to lie but it seems you are perfect for Emily. You have basic first aid training and CPR certifications.” You look down and read his papers. “Also, it seems Emily is already attached to you.”

You nod towards your daughter, who has her gaze fixed on Aemond while she plays. Aemond grinned at her which made the girl giggle and run towards him, showing him her favorite plush animal.

You pull up the documents for him to sign and put them in front of him. “It seems you got the job! You can read the agreement and then sign down here.” You smile. “I drive her to her school every morning. So, 3 pm you can go pick her up and she is all yours until 7 pm when I get home.”

Aemond nods and signs the paper. Opening the drawer beside you, you take a small notebook along with a key.

“Here.” You give him the book and key. “In here you will find all her allergies, her school, and our apartment address. That’s the key to our home.”

Aemond takes the book and the key from you, his pale fingers brushing gently against yours. “Thank you, Y/n.”

The way your name rolled through his tongue made your loins curl in a familiar feeling. You cough and look down to your laptop, a faint blush adorns your cheeks. Get a grip, Y/n!

There’s a small pregnant silence between you too. Aemond admires the way your face flushes so easily. Even tired, you look beautiful.

“Huh... Well! Ready for your first day?” You stand up and smile, trying to end the awkward silence.

Aemond also stood up, looking down at a very excited Emily. “Ready as I can be.” He gently grabs the girl's hand while putting her backpack on his shoulder and walks out of the office with you following close behind.

You kneel and give a big kiss on your daughter's cheek, making her giggle excitedly. “Have fun and behave.”

“Yes, mommy.” She grins and kisses your nose.

As you stand up, Aemond quickly pulls his wallet out and takes his business card. “I completely forgot to you give my card.” He says with an apologetic gaze. “My phone number is there in case you need something.”

You nod and take his business card. Emily pulls Aemond’s hand and jumps up and down. “Can I have an ice cream on our way home? Pretty please?”

Aemond looks in panic at you to which you laugh. “Yes, but only this time. Alright?”

“Yippe!” Your daughter squeals happily and pulls Aemond’s hand again. “C’mon! C’mon! Let’s go!” Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him while waving a small goodbye at you.

You waved back and watched them turn around the block, disappearing out of sight. You feel tears stinging in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of your daughter's absence drives you to panic.

“Deep breath, Y/n.” You whisper to yourself. “She’s going to be okay.”

Taking a deep breath, you look down at the business card in your hand. Your eyes widen as you see a familiar red logo. A three-headed dragon.

“Wait! He’s THE Aemond Targaryen??!!”  

I hope you guys like this chapter!! Feel free to like, comment or reblog!

#modern aemond #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd aegon #modern au #masterlist #aemond smut #aemond fluff #fluff #aemond #hotd fandom #george rr martin #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader

[mothmans-led-lamp]

I am a cryptid

I may inspire fright

Could fly at odd times

Go stare at some light.

Some think I am freaky

Downright a mess

It doesn't bother me

I feel no distress.

For though I am feared

By those who like normalcy

I feel very comforted

That human "freaks" do adore me :)

Poem found in mothman's diary. Estimated to be around the time cryptids caught more positive attention. Our question is, how did he access the internet to find his fans?

#mothman #moth meme #moth talks #moth speaks #moth mumbles #moth.txt #moths #mothsmatter #Moth posting #modern day cryptid #cryptid #cryptids #Cryptzoology #freaks and geeks #big ole freak #mothcore #cryptid culture #cryptidcore #writing #short writing #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #love poem #3 am mood #3 am rambles #3 am writing

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Julian's modern day diet being instant noodles and frozen meals

Him crashing the nurse's station to boil water for his instant coffee, to the point that he's become the equivalent of a cryptid to the med students doing their residencies

You haven't really become a true part of the hospital until you've had the fear of god put into you by wandering bleary-eyed into the break room at 2 AM, only to see a gangly 6'4 sleep paralysis demon staring absentmindedly into the abyss of an instant coffee packet, somehow reaching a new stage of enlightenment to the meditative sounds of the sputtering microwave and ancient electric kettle

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #julian the arcana #julian devorak

[snootlestheangel]

A Very Unique Ghost Headcanon

My friend and I got lunch together today and we went to a bookstore afterwards for a bit. An idea about Ghost had spawned so here's the whole thing.

*Does contain MW3 spoilers towards the end*

When Ghost is on leave, he spends a lot of time at a local bookstore. The staff and other locals began calling him "a ghost" because he's very quiet and appears for several days every few months. He's always very quiet and seems to "appear and disappear" randomly. He eventually spends so much time there, pretty much everyone knows him. Not by name, but they recognize him/when he's in town. They know he's a bit weird based on all the things he reads. He goes from reading really deep books about self-improvement to horror/true crime novels to silly animal fact books and laughing cause "penguins are silly". He's very kind though, everyone knows, and is always willing to grab something off a high shelf or assist an elderly person in carrying their items.

There's a table that's basically reserved for him now, sitting in the back corner of the bookstore's little cafe. There's always a stack of books that he wants to read sitting on the table. Sometimes the stack remains untouched for several months before "Ghost" is seen again. Sometimes, he comes back a bit more ragged than normal, and even sometimes more he comes back with an arm in a sling and a limp. But everyone gets used to the presence that is their local cryptid, even if he isn't much of a conversationalist.

Then they realize he journals everything he reads. He likes to write about all the things he learned while reading that day, and is diligent about dating everything.

This habit spawned from a few years he spent giving himself therapy because the military believed him dead, and he couldn't afford one outside of it. So, he took to the bookstore and it's nice section of self-improvement books and the mental help journals. He realized he actually really enjoys journaling, and likes being able to reflect back on all the things he read that year.

But he leaves the journals at the table with the books he has yet to read. And some people start getting curious. And someone reads the journals. They know it's horrible, but they figure there can't be anything personal if the man is willing to leave the journals unattended for months at a time. And that's when everyone learns he's actually journaled everything he's read for the last 4 years (how long it took him to get into that habit), and it's an incredibly fascinating read.

He's very well-spoken about the things he discusses, and his handwriting is pleasant and easy to understand. Not to mention, he only uses pen, and the fact he sometimes has to scribble out mistakes makes the journals feel familiar in a human way. There's something so personal and intimate about it, and it all adds to the local myth of the ghost that haunts the bookstore.

But then one day, the regular people that read the journals realize Ghost has started to mention someone within his readings. It starts small, a little comment on a book he read about the history of explosives: "I blame JSM for me reading something like this. It's fascinating stuff, and they have grown rather complicated these days. Wonder if there's more on modern explosives."

Just the initials: JSM. What they don't know is the initials belong to one John "Soap" MacTavish, the man to hold Ghost's heart.

And for a while, there's a lot of entries including the initials "JSM" somewhere in their contents. Some entries are almost entirely relating to this "JSM" person. And it's clear, as the mentions of "JSM" increase, that Ghost has fallen madly in love with whomever this is. And the people that read the journals have grown fond of Ghost, and are cheering him on, hoping he gets his happy ever after.

But then Ghost doesn't show up for over a year. The stack of books remains the same, the journals untouched.

But when he does, something's different. He immediately heads towards the section on "Grief and Loss". He stands there for an overwhelmingly long time before picking a couple of books and heading for his little table in the back.

And he reads, and journals, and cries all at the same time. No one even realized he was crying until a staff member passed by and noticed the tears falling from his eyes as he scribbled into the journal. No one bothers him, of course, but there's an overwhelming sadness that passes over the bookstore that day.

No one's brave enough to read the entries from that day, and they let the journals sit overnight. Ghost is back the next day, does the same, and leaves. Doesn't spend hours just simply perusing, but instead sits and reads the books he collected on grief/personal loss and journals.

But one day, after Ghost stops showing up again, becomes brave enough to read the journal entries from the last 3 days.

Word spreads like wildfire.

JSM is now Johnny and Johnny is gone.

It all makes sense, and all the regulars, all the staff that are familiar with Ghost and his journals mourn. They mourn on Ghost's behalf and they mourn for Ghost.

They mourn for him because the way he wrote changed, the way he spoke in his entries changed, his demeanor when in the store changed. They mourn Ghost because clearly Johnny took a part of him with him; his heart.

One day, there's a book about coping with losing your spouse, specifically geared towards younger people (especially ones in Ghost and Soap's age range *25-35*). There's actually no journal entries specified for most of the book, almost like he simply read it and didn't bother sharing his thoughts.

That is until the end of the book, where there's one journal entry marked to accompany the final chapter.

{I've read this book probably ten times now. The first time was actually the easiest. It was new to me, and I enjoy picking apart new books and getting through them. The second time was the hardest. It's when the words I had already read were starting to sink in. Too quickly I had been brought back to that day I lost Johnny. I didn't dwell too long on this book. I didn't want to, at least. But I kept going back to it because I knew it had answers and solutions. In reality, it didn't really help. It more took the mess in my head and sorted it out so I could deal with it more easily. I miss Johnny more than anything else in life. Losing him has been the worst thing I've ever gone through. Which is quite impressive, considering some of the things I've experienced. This book has taught me many things, and I only wish to share the one I feel speaks the greatest volumes. "But like all wounds, it takes time to heal a broken heart." What an incredible lesson. I've had my fair share of wounds to heal from, and I am painfully intimate with the recovery process of broken bones. Never once did I consider my heart something that could be wounded and recovered from. I always figured if my heart had been wounded, then that would be the end. But I was wrong. A heart can be broken and wounded, and like all injured things, it can heal. It's a beast of a recovery process, I won't lie, but the idea I'm merely recovering from a near-fatal injury comforts me. It's morbid, I suppose, to be comforted by that, but I am. It means he didn't die in vain, and that is all I ask for.

~Simon "Ghost" Riley}

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley headcanons #mw3 spoilers

[frog4278]

Even MORE useless Stranger Things headcanons with @dawg3i and some stolen from TikTok thank you

Steve and Robin cannot spell restaurant. They will spend hours trying to figure it out. Do NOT make them spell receipt

Mike is terrified by butterflies. HE HATES THEM!!!!

Steve puts his shoes on the wrong feet sometimes and he never notices

Modern Stranger Things AU where Holly likes to watch Miraculous Ladybug and Mike hates it because the main villain Hawkmoth literally is themed after a butterfly and uses butterflies to attack people

Nancy pulls up a picture of that one Spongebob episode with the butterfly (yk the image) and chases Mike around with it

He's screaming crying throwing up

All Lucas has is a pollen allergy and a girly sneeze against the world

Eddie is terrified of dogs. Even if it's tinniest dog in the world Eddie will still call it bloodthirsty and out to get him

Erica has chased Eddie with the intent to kill on multiple occasions

Robin has no idea how to swim and if she was left alone she would drown in three feet of water. Steve tries to teach her how to swim and it never works.

Steve Harrington caught teaching a graduated band kid how to swim in a crowded ass pool in the middle of July

Robin: Steve you gotta go. It’s too deep. I’m drowning. Save yourself

Steve: Rob it’s 3ft deep

At the end of the day Steve gives up and gets her those arm floaties

But imagine how scary that would be for Robin at Lover's Lake

The feeling of losing all the air in your lungs and your body slowly going into panic mode because oh God you can't breathe you can't breathe

and then she feels a hand grab her arm and pull her into the Upside Down and it’s Nancy

Anyways Robin and Steve pretending to be siblings when someone’s like “So… how long have y’all been together ;)" is fucking gold. They don’t hold back. They get offended. They ruin friendships.

"We just ended a relationship"

"Who's"

"points at a bickering couple theirs"

Steve can't play any instrument if he touches it it will fall apart

Eddie will NEVER live to the day he lets Steve touch his guitar

Steve touches it and it blows up like a pipebomb

Jonathan is a cryptid. Will goes into the kitchen at 3 AM for a glass of water and finds Jonathan hunched over a bag of shredded cheese with nothing but the open fridge light illuminating his face

Sometimes Will joins him

El is just concerned

Then she goes back to befriending the wolf spider in their house

Nancy plays tennis and is very competitive about it

Robin bites string cheese

Steve still counts on his fingers

Will has drank from his paint water cup on accident several times

Max chews her nails

#stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things s4 #st4 #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #max mayfield #eddie munson #el byers #el hopper #eleven #mike wheeler #byler #ronance #steddie #lumax

[blorb-el]

Calling golden age Clark an anticapitalist/socialist paragon is only true for prewar golden age Clark (1938-42). The instant the US entered the war and the character started to be used to sell war stamps, he couldn't act as anti-authoritarian; destroying a car factory for its use of unsafe, inferior materials (action 12), trapping a mine owner in his own mine to force him to improve conditions for his workers (action 3), or tearing down tenement housing in order to force the government to build better, safer apartments (action 8) are all actions that would be seen as actively traitorous in the wake of Pearl Harbor. The Superman office contributed enthusiastically to war propaganda in all the forms of media the character was appearing in (comics, newspaper strips, radio show, and the Fleischer animations). By the end of the war Superman the Character was firmly established as Establishment. Postwar golden age Superman is still devoted to doing the right thing, of course, but now he helps raise money for charity, donates his time and labor to build orphanages, that sort of thing. He's not trying to tear the system down... much as I wish DC would let him try.

Instead of Siegel's original justice cryptid, the furiously kinetic Champion of the Oppressed outsider Superman, postwar to modern day we get a Clark who shifts back and forth on the spectrum of establishmentarianism depending on the writer, but who is generally not allowed to act directly against institutions (Wolfman, Morrison, Waid, Byrne, and Maggin for example all have WILDLY different takes on the relationship between superman and Authority). My personal favorite Take is that Clark as a person is not establishmentarian, but the establishment of superheroes and their conduct codified (or calcified, if you prefer) itself around him and his personal conduct. Both in a Doylist sense and in the continuities where he's the First Superhero a Watsonian one. How does your behavior change when you know people are looking to you to determine what's right and what's allowed for themselves? How does that constrict you, when your actions are dissected and taken for justification? That's why I always think of him as a person whose natural inclination is to be chaotic good, but who restrains himself into being lawful good. Clark would sure LIKE to Solve Capitalism. But he both can't, and will never be allowed to... and that tension, far from being a bad thing, can fuel a good interpretation.

#all this bc i saw a take essentially saying clark fights systems and bruce helps individuals. and i'm like. #i fucking wish they'd let him fight systems. but they don't. he can't. to say that's the fundamental difference is an artificial distinctio #between bruce and clark for the sake of differentiation when really they're very similar. i get it contrast is interesting but #Actually They're Both Firemen #clark kent #golden age clark my beloved #superman #meta #anyway. im far more familiar with early superman than modern superman but part of that is bc by reputation he's swung more #into establishmentarianism which makes me either snzzzz or actively Seethe depending on the skill of the writer. so additions welcome

[surrogate-fawn]

Im a fan of #7.

Nesting (Werewolf AU)

Prompt: "The baby feels so low" [Also inspired by @hush-writes-preg's "Spooky Season Day #3" prompt. He can consider this an early birthday gift as well!]

Characters: Fawn, Newt/Asher - Pre-Polly Relationship ((Newt is owned by @mittysins, and Asher is owned by @killer-orca-cosplay.))

Context: This takes place in a modern world where werewolves are common amidst human society. Fawn is a packless Beta who is about to give birth to her ex-mate's pup. Newt, an Omega, and Asher, an Alpha, are a mated pair who took Fawn into their home -- despite the fact they're expecting a pup of their own in a few months. The three have formed a close friendship, though Fawn still feels like an outsider. After all, she was human only a year ago.

Disclaimer: This fic contains lore for my, Mitty's, and Orca's werewolf AU -- be forewarned there will be worldbuilding mixed in with the kink stuff. If story-heavy kink is your kind of thing -- like it is for us three -- enjoy!

TW: A/B/O dynamics, but within the context of a werewolf society; mentions of past abuse, werewolf-related birth troubles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smoky whisps of incense scented the room with lavender. The shades were drawn over the windows to block the fading sun. Golden fairy lights twinkled in the gossamer curtains woven through the support beams of the nesting tent, the only dots of light in the dark room.

The nylon pop-up tent was specially designed for those who were nesting. It clung to the baseboard and covered the entire bed in a snug, arched shelter. It could be zipped or unzipped in sections to create windows and doors as needed, or it could be shut tight for total privacy. The interior of the tent was stuffed full of jumbo-sized Squishmallow plushies, three oversized duvet covers, and one very pregnant werewolf.

"How you doing, Mama?" the mop-haired Alpha sitting bedside asked.

Fawn's pointed ear flicked in the direction of his voice in acknowledgement before she opened her eyes. She lay curled around a giant fox pillow, the soft material supporting her belly as she lay dozing in the tent. She had opened a section of the tent by the headboard so she could leave the nest if she wanted, but at the moment she didn't feel safe anywhere else.

"I've been better," she said, her voice lagging with fatigue.

A dewy layer of sweat clung to her whole body. Her clothing was shed to the bedroom floor, save for a black tank top and pair of boyshorts. The air around her was temperate, but her body burned with a mild fever. Her muscles felt heavy and useless, tired from months of carrying her pregnancy whilst fighting the tremors of rejection sickness. The worst of it had passed over time; but here she was, still feeling the effects of breaking her pair bond almost ten months later.

Oh, and being in labor for the last nine hours was not helping the situation.

The soft click of the door handle caught their attention. The pair of cryptids lifted their heads to look as it opened, the hallway light reflecting green in the mirrors of their eyes.

Newt's familiar scent -- much stronger than his mate's -- overpowered the lavender as he entered the room. Fawn's sinuses tingled with the spicy-sweet aroma of his smell, comparable to sassafras, that indicated his pregnancy as much as the grapefruit-sized swell of his lower belly. Fawn still struggled to describe the scents that were new to her.

The Omega approached her nest and held out the glass of tap water he'd been sent to fetch. Fawn craned her neck and lapped from it, her mouth too parched to obey her command. Her tongue was longer than it had once been, able to bring water to her throat as easily as any straw. She didn't pause to wrap her lips around the edge of the glass until her thirst was mostly quenched.

"Jeez, don't drown," Newt chuckled as Fawn took the drink from his hand.

Asher, the Alpha, got up from his seat and offered it to his mate with a nod of his head.

Fawn gulped down the last of the water and came up panting for air. "Don't tell me what to do," she retorted with a tired, playful grin.

"Don't tell her what to do, babe," Asher said, unable to disguise the smirk on his face as he set the empty glass on the bedside table.

The three shared a brief, quiet laugh.

Fawn's eyelids drifted closed as the room settled back into silence. She shimmied herself deeper into her pile of softness, falling easily into a twilight sleep; at least, for a few more minutes.

A huff of air left Fawn's nose a split second before her brow creased in discomfort. "Ash, start it," she said, curling tighter around her pillow.

"Yes, ma'am." Asher fumbled to unlock his phone and started the timer on his stopwatch app. "Started."

Fawn filled her lungs with air with one long breath and released it as a drawn-out exhale. The contraction coiled itself around her hips and squeezed, growing tighter by the second. The pain grew like a stinging vine around her belly, her ribs, her back, even wrapping around her upper thighs.

With a low groan, Fawn rolled herself onto her back. Her legs fell open at a wider angle than normal -- a sign her hips were loosening in preparation for her large pup to come through. She continued her ritual of slow, deliberate breathing as the contraction continued to climb to its dreaded peak.

Newt leaned into the opening in the tent, enough for him to run a gentle hand over the clammy skin of Fawn's arm. He didn't say anything, but his touch brought her a sense of ease. Even knowing that Asher was in the room, even if she couldn't see him, made her feel better. They'd only known each other a month, but she couldn't imagine surviving labor without them.

Fawn flashed her fangs in a snarl as the contraction reached its apex, the part she dreaded each time. "Ugh!" she growled through her teeth, her head pressed back into the pillow.

Newt's eyes widened when Fawn hooked her hands beneath her knees, drawing her legs up on either side of her belly. "Are you pushing already?"

"She's what?!" Asher gasped in alarm, his face appearing over his mate's shoulder.

"No!" Fawn growled, hardly able to breathe enough to speak. "My legs are about to fuckin' dislocate!"

She could feel the pup pressing its way out, prying open the flesh of her cervix as her womb squeezed it down. The pressure sent stabbing waves of agony between her legs. Her birth canal opened a little more with each millimeter the pup dropped, and now it was putting unbearable pressure on the ball-socket joints of her pelvis.

Fawn grunted in relief as the contraction ebbed. She released her legs, draping them wide apart over her plushies. Thankfully, Newt and Asher's guest bed was queen-sized and allowed her plenty of space to spread out.

"It's done," she announced, so Asher could stop the timer.

"Ooh, getting close," Asher said. "That one was thirty-eight seconds."

Even that short burst of work sent drops of sweat rolling down Fawn's sides. She pulled her tank top over the curve of her belly and tucked the fabric under her swollen breasts. She caressed the sore underside of her bump in long, soothing circles. The skin around her womb was pulled smooth as glass from the weight of the pup inside. She could feel where its surface was gouged by deep, purple stretch marks. Her pup wriggled impatiently beneath her hands, as if able to sense her touch through the thinness of the skin.

"Call me crazy," she said, "but I'm hoping this baby takes its time. It might rip me apart if it tries to break the speed record."

Asher checked the recorded times in his phone. "You'll be fine, it doesn't look like they're in a hurry," he said. "Just stay relaxed and the pup will keep working its way down."

Fawn gave a thumbs-up. "Copy that, Sarge."

"So, guys, are we taking bets?" Newt asked, resting his upper torso inside the tent.

Fawn tilted her head to peer up at him from inside the canyon of her pillow plushie. "On what?"

"Boy or girl," Newt grinned. He propped his chin up on his hand and beamed down at the redheaded wolf woman. "Should we take bets?"

"You boys can if you want," Fawn said.

"Just you versus me, babe," Asher chuckled from somewhere else in the room. "Fawn already knows, that would be cheating."

"No, I don't," Fawn said, quiet and matter-of-fact. She turned her eyes to the little golden lights twinkling over her head. "I didn't know if a doctor would make me contact my mate, so I never went to one."

At the mention of him, the mating scar at the nape of Fawn's neck became hot. She grimaced, able to feel each small wound his teeth had left when he'd inflicted her with the curse of the wolves. It wasn't as strong of a reaction anymore; the pain had at one point been overwhelming.

When she'd taken that first step out of the apartment with the intention to never come back, the mark had burned so intensely she thought she could smell her flesh searing. She was lucky Todd hadn't been home, because he'd no doubt felt the same sensation on the back of his neck -- where he had forced her to mark him as her mate as well. Had he been home, Fawn wouldn't have made it out of the building before he'd realized what she was doing.

"Besides," Fawn added, "I have no idea if I should go to a doctor or a vet now." Her freckled face paled, and she looked back up at Newt. "Shit, is that offensive?"

Newt laughed and leaned in to rub his cheek against her forehead. "Nah."

Fawn smiled as he brushed against her, leaving a bit of his spicy-sweet scent on her skin. She was still adjusting to perceiving the world through scent as much as sight and touch, but she grew more comfortable with it each time the pair scented her. Scent was transforming into language the more she utilized it. Maybe she wasn't sure how to communicate with it, yet; but there was something about it she was starting to understand.

"We'll show you the ropes once you're over the rejection sickness," Asher said, leaning against the nightstand so he could peer into the nest. "So . . . this guy didn't explain any of our lifestyle to you?"

Fawn shook her head. "Not anything us hum-," she paused, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Not anything humans don't already know. Transformation and full moon stuff, basically. He had me sell my silver jewelry before he'd even kiss me. I didn't know werewolves were that sensitive to it."

The boys shared a concerned look.

"Um," Asher cleared his throat, "we aren't. Silver allergies are rare as hell. A few poor bastards had a fatal reaction hundreds of years ago, and humans assumed it was a rule for all of us."

"Good old stereotyping," Newt said.

The lines in Fawn's brow deepened. "That piece of dogshit," she muttered under her breath. "I sold my grandma's pendant for him!"

Goddammit! Why hadn't she thought twice about Todd suddenly needing to "borrow" that money?! Her mating scar throbbed, seeping heat like an open wound where their pair bond had once been. A fresh sweat dampened her brow.

Newt brushed a few stray curls from Fawn's eyes and tucked them behind the point of her ear. "Fuck him. He's a dick."

"Yeah, fuck him," Asher agreed with a frown. His ear twitched as his scowl deepened, knocking his glasses askew. "Alphas are supposed to protect our mates, not take advantage of them."

There was a brief pause. Asher took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and added: "For what it's worth, Fawn . . . I'm sorry on his behalf."

"Me, too," Newt nodded. "Not as an Alpha, but as a wolf."

Fawn sighed and draped an arm over her eyes. "Thank you for that, boys. It helps . . . at least a little."

She felt like the world's biggest idiot.

When they'd met, she'd been seduced by Todd's hyper-masculine physique and charmed by his overly protective "doting". How special she'd felt, having an Alpha werewolf want her -- an average human woman -- as his mate. In hindsight, being an average human woman was exactly what made him want her. Easy prey.

How quickly she'd regretted her decision to let Todd put her in a mating press. After she'd endured the weeks it took for her anatomy to shift into that of his kind, Todd had convinced her they needed to breed as soon as possible. He wanted a large pack, as many pups as she could give him. It didn't take her long to realize they were the only reason he'd claimed her. Days after leaving him, she'd detected the strange smell of sassafras on her skin -- though she wouldn't know what that meant for two months.

The rejection sickness had masked any symptoms of a pregnancy. The effects were like that of withdrawal: fevers high enough to cause delirium, tremors, nausea, and full-body aches. She'd spent endless days and nights confined to the bed of a sleazy motel room. What carried her through was the knowledge that Todd was feeling just as shitty as she was. Yet, in her darkest moments, Fawn considered going back to him just to make it stop.

Then, her world changed when a fellow wolf woman at the drugstore offered congratulations based on her scent. This prompted her to buy a pregnancy test, and the thought of going back never crossed her mind again.

"Fellas?" Fawn asked, still blindfolding herself with her forearm. "Is a large pack, like . . . a status symbol for y'all or something?"

Asher shrugged. "Not as much as it used to be," he said. "It used to be a big deal in the past, like before we had the treaty with humans. That was because our packs needed the numbers for defense. But now? Not as much."

"Except maybe for those freakishly traditional families," Newt chimed in.

"Mmm," Fawn hummed in acknowledgement. She placed her other hand on the upper swell of her belly and gave it a thoughtful rub. "Well, this baby is mine. I'm not giving birth for the sake of some insecure asshole. This is my baby."

"Damn right it is," Newt grinned, his blue eyes glittering in the low light.

After a few seconds of silence, Fawn's limp-hanging hand curled into a fist. "Mmm, Ash . . . " Her voice trailed off into a chesty groan.

Newt looked over at his mate. "Ash, start it."

Asher pulled out his phone with a nod. "Starting."

Newt massaged Fawn's shoulder as she once again pulled back her legs. The pressure in her hips was immense, and the contraction was heaving the baby down with unholy force. Fawn pulled harder on her knees until she felt her pelvis widen, the bones drifting apart like tectonic plates.

"Breathe, Fawn," Newt gently reminded. "You're holding it."

Fawn hissed out her breath like a deflating tire. "God, it's coming down," she groaned. She shut her eyes and whined as the pup pressed harder against her cervix.

"Change position," Asher offered, bending down to see inside the nest. "Let gravity help you out."

Fawn released a high-pitched whimper. "My hips . . . my hips hurt."

"Here, hold on." Newt reached around Fawn and pulled out another of her oversized Squishmallows from the pile. He left his chair and climbed onto the bed, crawling through the opening of the tent with the plushie in-hand. "Sit up, love."

Fawn reluctantly let her legs fall. Her bones were lead. With Newt's help, she got to her knees and straddled herself atop the large pillow plushie so her hips could remain open.

"There, that's better!" Asher said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. His phone screen reflected in his lenses, revealing the contraction had lasted twenty seconds already.

Fawn bent forward onto all-fours, rhythmically dipping her hips into the pillow as the pain climbed higher than it had before. The Omega at her side dug the heel of his hand into her lower back, allowing Fawn to rock back against the counter-pressure. Her deep breathing wavered, each inhale growing shallower until the wolf woman was full-on panting.

"Calm down, you're doing fine," Newt lulled, ghosting his claws over her spine. "Deep breaths, like you were doing."

Sweat appeared in shining beads on Fawn's reddened face, dampening the frizzy curls around her temples. "I can't," she gasped. All four limbs trembled, fatigued muscles giving up the last of their strength. "I can't . . . I need to lie down."

Fawn sank chest-first into the fox plushie, arms unable to support her weight. Her tongue dipped in and out of her mouth as she failed to control of her breathing. Her fingers sank into the duvet, claws tearing holes in the fabric.

The end of the tent unzipped, creating an arch-shaped door that Asher climbed in through. While Newt continued to knead Fawn's back, Asher laid himself beside her.

"Hey, Mama, look at me," he crooned, his face appearing in the corner of her vision. When her hazel eyes met his, he said: "You are owning this! There's no need to get freaked out. You're too tough for labor to beat. Take a deep breath for us, alright?"

Fawn wet her lips and maintained eye contact with the Alpha while she drew in a big breath.

"Good!" Asher smiled, patting her shoulder. "Now let it out and make the next one even deeper. Show that pain who's boss!"

She obeyed, but mid-inhale she choked on air. With a canid yowl, Fawn pressed herself against the Alpha's body. Her hips ground against the pillow, as if it would cushion the force of her pelvis being forced apart.

"Ugh, gravity's helping too much!" Fawn moaned into Asher's shirt. "This pup is about to fall outta me!"

"That's a good thing!" Asher encouraged, draping his arm over her and motioning for his mate to lie down beside them. "You're making progress. The pup will be here before you know it!"

Fawn's hips finally settled as the contraction eased off, but she still felt unable to move. Her pelvis sat wide open, and the hefty weight of the pup was sinking deep inside it -- even without the contraction.

“Augh, fuck,” she moaned, the sound rumbling in her chest. “Fuck . . . the baby feels low. It feels so fucking low!"

"Ash?" Newt asked as he rearranged the pillows to better support the three of them. "Are you still timing?"

Asher caressed Fawn's thigh as she shifted to support her upper body against the mountain of Squishmallows Newt had piled up. Newt reclined on his side beside her, flashing her a bright smile -- his fangs always hung over his lower lip when he smiled.

"No, I think we're just feeling it out now," Asher said. He'd left his phone charging on the nightstand, just in case they needed it. "I think we're 'reaching a checkpoint' as it were."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Gamers."

Fawn snuggled into the pillow mountain, trying in vain to get comfortable. It wasn't as dramatic as what they showed on television, but Fawn knew exactly what the hot rush of fluid was as it soaked the pillow between her legs.

"Umm, hey . . ." She nudged the pillow aside, revealing ribbons of cloudy water running down her inner thighs. "I think it's time to lose the shorts."

Asher pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And checkpoint reached!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For five hours, no one left that tent. The room grew darker as the evening gave way to the early morning hours of pre-dawn. The boys stayed at either side of the laboring wolf woman, holding her steady in positions that allowed her pup to ease down with gravity.

Between contractions, the three werewolves lay side-by-side in tranquil silence. The sweat on Fawn's brow would dry, her feverish body would cool, but the warmth of two other bodies prevented the chills from returning. That quiet peace would be broken when Fawn vocalized during a new contraction, signaling the boys to sit her up and widen her stance.

Fawn was growing restless, wanting to switch positions several times during every contraction: squatting against the headboard, kneeling against one guy or the other, or falling into a half-squat in a pile of her plush pillows. The longer the night wore on, the more fidgety the laboring mother became.

At around four in the morning, as the trio rested together beneath the fairy lights, Fawn suddenly spoke:

"Is the cradle ready?"

"Hmm?" Asher sat up and readjusted his glasses.

"Is the cradle ready?" Fawn repeated. There was a glint of urgency in her eyes, although her tone was soft and even.

The fold-out mesh bassinet was visible from inside the nest, placed against the opposite wall. The pup's first outfit was already laid out atop the blanket lining the mattress -- a cotton quilt with embroidered rubber duckies that Newt had donated from the stash he was buying for his own pup.

After a quick glance, Asher responded: "Yep, it's ready and waiting."

"Can you grab some extra blankets or something?" Fawn pleaded. She gradually drew her legs up until her heels touched the underside of her thighs. "Just anything that's soft."

Newt sat himself up and gave his mate a knowing look. "Babe? You think this is that 'final nesting' the baby books talked about?"

Asher's eyes widened. "Oh, crap. It might be."

"What?" Fawn asked. She suddenly realized she couldn't remember what either of the boys had just said -- she wasn't fully aware of what was going on around her. It was so, so hard to focus on anything other than the pounding pressure that had come to rest in the curve of her tailbone.

The mated pair gave each other a nod.

"Ash and I have been reading books about pups like crazy this month," Newt explained in a lighthearted tone. "'Final nesting' is just what your brain does right before the pup is ready to come out."

Asher grabbed the corner of the topmost duvet and rolled it towards them until it became a padded cushion. He carefully slid it beneath Fawn and said: "Yep, it's an instinct. Got to make sure the pup has a safe place to land, you know."

Now it was Fawn's turn to go wide-eyed. "Wait . . . wait, is it happening?" she gasped, her head shooting up off the pillows.

"Maybe," Newt said. "You'll know if it is." He placed a pillow over his torso to protect his belly and scooted behind Fawn to support her into a squat.

"And if it isn't, then we'll just wait some more," Asher concluded. "Don't try to bear down if you don't need to."

Fawn nodded, gulping down the dryness in her throat. She had no idea what to expect with the next contraction. If the monstrous pressure she was feeling hadn't triggered her body to push by then . . . oh, God above, what was about to happen to her?

"I don't . . . don't know if I'm ready for this," she muttered.

Newt leaned in and rubbed his cheek against the side of her neck. "You're as ready as you'll ever be," he said. He intertwined his clawed fingers with her own.

Fawn didn't feel the next contraction as pain, only as a familiar tightness wrapping around her womb. All other sensation was snuffed out . . . massacred . . . left bleeding in the streets! . . . by the wicked downward thrust of her pup moving through her effaced cervix. There was nothing holding that baby in her womb any longer, and it was not waiting another minute to leave.

"Oh, my God!" she screamed -- out of fear more so than pain. Her hips jerked back, trying to escape the demonic pressure burning inside.

Newt squeezed her hands -- his claws never marking her skin. "You feel it?"

"Yes!" Fawn cried, her body shuddering under the hellish urge to push.

"Go with it," Asher encouraged, placing his hand on her knee. "Let's meet your pup."

Fawn held her breath and gave a shallow, hesitant first push. She wasn't sure if she was using the correct muscles, but it felt . . . how could she describe it? . . . it felt like she was doing something. A few seconds of strain later, she let up with a sharp yelp. Yes, she'd been doing it right. That slight nudge had sent the pup rushing forward.

"It's moving . . ." was all she had time to say before her body demanded she continue her efforts -- and double them!

Those few millimeters of progress kicked her urge to push into overdrive. Fawn braced her weight against Newt, put chin to chest, and bore down with every ounce of force she could. The crown of the head pressed deeper against her innermost walls with a fiery, thorny tug. The sensation of her baby moving through her after so many passive hours of labor was startling -- yet beyond rewarding.

Had her eyes been open to see, Fawn would have observed Asher's tender smile as he watched primal focus harden her features.

"Just like that, Mama," Asher praised, again stroking her thigh. "Don't hold back, give it your all!"

Sweat trailed down her flushed skin. Unable to hold the push any longer, Fawn emptied her lungs with a harsh grunt.

"It's already hurting me," she growled through closed fangs. Her voice strained as, for just a few horrible seconds, she resisted the urge to push. "Goddamn, this is gonna suck!"

Newt laid his chin on Fawn's shoulder as she sank into another deep push. "Whatever you feel, don't fight it," he offered evenly. "Your body knows what it's doing, Fawn. Listen to what it's telling you to do."

Fawn's ears pressed back against her head as her hips dipped lower to the duvet. She felt a small trickle of fluid drip from her labia, but the flow stopped as soon as she stopped pushing. A groan escaped the back of her throat as the contraction eased off and she was able to relax.

"That was great," Newt praised, unlacing their fingers and letting Fawn have her hands back. "You got the hang of it right off the bat."

Fawn sighed and balled the duvet beneath them in her claws. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and her pulse hammered in her neck. Any sense of physical comfort was gone now, even between contractions. She knew there would be no peace for her until this pup was out and in her arms . . . but God only knew when that would happen. God only knew if that would happen! The pup was barely inside her birth canal and Fawn was already terrified that it was going to get stuck.

"What if . . . what if I can't get it out?" she panted. Her lower back was screaming, so she shifted her hips forward. It didn't help. "What do we do if I can't get it out?!"

"Hey, hey, don't think like that," Newt helped Fawn recline a bit further against him. He steadied her in his arms, his hands gently massaging the curves where her belly met her ribcage. "There's no doubt in our minds that you can do this!"

"And I'm down here if you need a little extra help," Asher said. He carefully took Fawn's leg and draped it over his lap, helping to open her hips now that she was in a more reclined position. "We won't let anything happen to you or your pup, Fawn. That's a promise."

"You're safe here," Newt said in a low, soothing tone. He continued to apply soft pressure to her sides and back, kneading over her sore body as if smoothing out a delicate fabric.

Fawn never doubted for a second that she was in loving hands. She dreaded to think where she would be right now if the pair hadn't opened their home to her. Without their kindness, chances were that she'd be delivering her baby in a motel bathroom or on top of a cot in a homeless shelter. These two had given her the ultimate gift: a warm, safe place to give birth. She owed her pup's life to them.

"I know," Fawn said, snuggling down further into the nest. "I don't want to be anywhere else right now."

Newt bent down and pressed a kiss to Fawn's hairline. "Keep listening to your body. Don't rush what it's trying to do."

Fawn nodded, puffing out a breath as she felt the next contraction roll up from her back to her belly. "Okay . . . let's go."

She took in a slow lungful of air, waited for the contraction to build in strength, and pushed.

Her loosened joints spread easily for the pup's skull as it squeezed its way down her passage. It became an endless pattern: Fawn would push, the head would squeeze down, and her pelvic bones would spread over its shape as it passed beneath them. She could feel the rhythm of the changes.

Push. Squeeze. Spread.

Rest.

Push. Squeeze. Spread. Spread.

Rest.

Push. Squeeze. Spread. Spread. Spre-OW!

OW! OW! Oh, fuck! Now it was so too big! Her hips were filled to the maximum, her canal stretched wide around a huge pair of shoulders as they slipped from her womb. She could feel her labia bulging from between her legs -- and oh, God, they ached! There was nothing but a layer of her skin holding the pup in, and it felt like a bubble of gum about to burst!

But she couldn't stop pushing. Not now, not when everything was raw and stretched and open and hurting so goddamn bad! Fawn curled her toes into the mattress and wailed as she threw herself harder into pushing. Her voice grew louder as she felt the inflamed skin between her legs starting to open.

"Good job, Mama! Here it comes!" Asher cried, his voice raised to be heard over Fawn's roar of effort.

Asher had his eyes glued to the pale, wet sac pressing out of Fawn each time her body strained. He'd read in their books that it was common for werewolf pups to be born with their membranes wrapped around them. That was fine, he just had to be prepared to remove it.

A tiny spurt of fluid leaked out from around the sac as the head began to stretch the skin of the perineum. The pup's size seemed to be keeping most of its sac unruptured, the fluid too pressurized to leave the birth canal. Asher furrowed his brow but said nothing.

Of course, Newt took notice of his mate's unease. He swallowed the unease in his chest, and scented Fawn's hair with his cheek again in the hopes it would distract her.

"Ash sees the head," he crooned. "Keep going, you're pushing like a pro!"

With renewed vigor, Fawn gave into her body's needs. Asher waited until a few centimeters of the solid white membrane stretched open Fawn's lips, then he placed his index finger against the bulging sac to gauge how much fluid was inside. He felt the semi-solid squish of the pup's head just beneath the film, but his finger pad felt the swish of water when he pressed down. That wasn't a very good sign, but Asher still felt confident that he could handle it.

"I'm going to help you out a little, okay?" Asher told Fawn, cupping his hand over the crowning pup. "Focus on pushing, and I'll help you open up. I'll go slow."

Newt once again sensed Asher's unease and made it his mission to protect Fawn from sensing it, too. "Pup's almost out, Fawn," he said as he gave her shoulders a brief hug. "It'll be out quicker with Ash helping you. Just take a deep breath and let yourself stretch."

"I'm trying," Fawn whimpered. "I'm trying."

As Fawn bore down against the pup, Asher ran his fingers against the sides of her lips. He nudged her skin open bit by bit around the sac, watching as it stretched from a small oval to a wide circle over the course of several minutes. Asher cringed as he saw the skin of her labia discolor from a raw red to an almost beet purple with the width of the head.

Fawn, meanwhile, had fallen completely taciturn. Aside from wolfish growls and whimpers, she made no efforts to express her pain verbally. Her focus had shifted solely to bearing through the ordeal, working with her body to bring it to a swift end.

"Keep going, we're almost there!" Asher cheered. He had his hands positioned at the apex of her inner thighs, supporting the tight skin as Fawn pushed the head to its widest point.

Fawn shuddered and let her head fall back on Newt's chest. Her mind was a mess of black static as the pup's shoulders ground against her pubic bone. She arched her spine as the pup ceased to move for one heart-stopping moment. Then, in a sudden lurch, the sac-covered head popped free into Asher's waiting hands.

"Awesome! Awesome, Fawn!" Newt cheered, peering over her shoulder as much as he could. He could see the white membrane resting in his mate's palm. "Babe, you got it?"

Asher nodded. "I've got it, don't worry."

Without drawing attention to it, Asher took the claw of his thumb and carefully -- oh-so-carefully -- punctured the membrane at the base of where he felt the pup's neck should be. A quiet sploosh filled the nesting tent as amniotic fluid rushed over Asher's hands. He hooked his claw inside the tear and slowly peeled the sac over the pup's head.

There wasn't much hair on the pup's head -- unusual, though not uncommon -- but that wasn't what Asher was looking for. He craned his neck at a painful angle until he could catch a glimpse of the pup's face. When he saw it, he paled. The features were predictably swollen, but the puffy lips were hanging open and dripping a thick yellowish mucus. Asher thanked the stars above that he and his partner had read up about whelping -- for he was able to recognize the tell-tale symptom of waterlogged lungs.

The mates locked eyes with each other and nothing else needed to be said or done. They both understood.

"This is it, love," Newt said, leaning in to help Fawn hold her legs apart. "This next contraction is going to be the one."

Fawn's jaw gaped like a suffocating fish, but finally her voice obeyed her command: "Is my baby okay?"

Oh, hell. She must've smelled the pheromones of their stress. Newt had been hoping she wouldn't understood what the scent of fear was, yet.

Newt smiled at her and brushed her sweat-plastered hair away from her eyes. "They're fine, they just need some extra help."

"When you push, I'll give them a little tug," Asher said. "It's going to hurt, but it'll be over before you know it."

Fawn squeezed her eyes shut. "Can't hurt any worse than this," she mumbled. "Just do it."

The boys were expecting the horrific scream Fawn released when Asher began guiding out the first shoulder, but it still made their sensitive ears ring.

"You're so strong, Fawn!" Newt said into her ear. He felt her legs trying to close against the pain, and he had to pause to pull them back apart. "I know it hurts, but you're handling it so well! We're so proud of you!"

Asher kept his focus locked on delivering the pup as fast and as safe as possible. One hand supported the pup's body while the other pulled down on the emerging shoulder.

"Come on, little guy," Asher muttered under his breath. "Come on, you can do it."

With an audible pop of Fawn's hip joints -- and another yowl from the wolf woman herself -- the pup's first shoulder slipped free. Asher wasted zero time in hooking his thumb under the tiny arm and continuing his steady, gentle tug.

A rather disgusting squelch accompanied the pup as it slid onto the duvet. The remains of the membrane bunched around its feet as Asher scooped it into his hands. The body was grey and limp, and all three heartbeats stalled.

"What's wrong?!" Fawn cried. "What's wrong with it?!" She reached for her baby on instinct, but Newt held her back.

"It's okay!" he said, adjusting himself to block her veiw of Asher and the baby. "It's okay, I swear! Asher's taking care of it."

Newt stroked her sweaty face with the back of his hand, doing anything he could think of to soothe her. It didn't stop the tears from flooding the exhausted mother's eyes.

Behind his mate's back, Asher brought the pup's face to his lips. His mouth easily covered the nose and mouth of the newborn, and he gently sucked the sour-tasting fluid out of its airway. Asher spit the gunk into his sleeve and repeated the action, rubbing his thumb against the baby's chest as he did.

It was a process that lasted less than twenty seconds, but to all three werewolves it felt like eternity. But eternity ended when the pup sucked in a deep, squeaking breath. The sound of its first cry was shrill, but to the trio it sounded like singing.

Asher couldn't help but start crying as the little body he'd resurrected wiggled to life in his hands. "Here he is!" he said, voice wavering with joyful tears.

Newt sat back immediately, allowing Fawn to see the baby alive and well in Asher's arms.

"Here's our boy!" Asher announced, laying the crying baby over his mother's heart.

Through the haze of her tears, Fawn looked over every detail of her little boy. She saw the layer of damp fuzz covering his skin, the points on his pink, folded-over ears, and the coating of protective skin over his miniscule claws. She thanked whatever power was out there for that last detail, because such tiny needles would've been horrible to feel coming out.

"Sweetheart," she told the baby, wrapping her arms around him, "don't make a habit outta scaring me like that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is he already nursing again?" Newt asked as he placed the glass of water on the nightstand.

"He eats like a horse," Fawn chuckled, adjusting the nursing pillow under her baby. Jacob was the name she had settled on.

The sun was coming up now, filling her bedroom with a soft white light. Asher was on the floor, disassembling the nesting tent. It would be taken out again in a few months for Newt to use, but the Alpha was determined to Tetris the pieces correctly into their box.

Jacob was an aggressive nurser. Three hours old and this was his third time demanding his mother's milk. Newt and Asher insisted such an appetite was normal for a larger werewolf pup, but Fawn wasn't too thrilled to learn she was going to get even less sleep than she anticipated with a new baby.

Fawn quickly drained the glass of water. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel not-thirsty again. "So, Newt," she said, "I didn't scare you into wanting a C-section, did I?"

"Nah, not at all." Newt laid down on the bed beside Fawn, propping himself against the Squishmallow pile. "If you could get him out, I'm pretty sure I'll be okay."

Newt pet the thin strands of hair on Jacob's head. The newborn swiped a clumsy, mitten-covered fist over his head with a teeny-tiny growl. All three adults stopped and stared.

"Was that him?!" Asher asked from the floor.

"Yeah . . ." Newt said, withdrawing his hand. "He's very protective of his food."

Asher almost fell over laughing. "That's Alpha behavior if I've ever seen it!"

"How do you guys even determine that stuff?" Fawn asked. "Is it a sex thing?"

"Eh, a bit," Newt shrugged, "but it's also a personality thing." He tickled the folded tip of Jacob's soft ear, and got the same response as before.

"Ow!" Fawn jerked as her son bit down on her breast. "Stop annoying him, or I'm biting you, too!"

"Sorry," Newt chuckled.

"I can't thank you boys enough for this," Fawn said. "This werewolf shit is all sorts of weird for me, and . . . now I know for certain that Jacob wouldn't have been alright if you weren't with me."

"That's what packs do," Asher said, re-folding a segment of nylon tarp. "We look out for each other."

"Do we even . . . " Fawn stopped herself mid-sentence and looked away.

Newt grinned and touched his forehead to Fawn's temple. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Fawn grinned in return and rubbed her cheek against his hair, leaving her scent on his skin.

#fawn drabbles #mittysins #killer-orca-cosplay #Fawn/Newt/Asher #fpreg labor and birth #labor kink #birth kink #borrowed ocs #fpreg

[genko-yoru]

Day 22: Cryptid AU

I know Danny Phantom is a kid's show, but I like the idea that Danny's world is filled with hidden, extremely terrifying spooks. That the ghosts we see in the show are more like modern-day ghosts, but there are older, more powerful ancient ones lurking around. Like all our folklore and Cryptid legends actually exist as creepy ghosts. ( and why the GIW was founded in the first place)

This is a scene from Day 26's fic, which is also today's prompt. I sooo wanted to draw the actual ghost's form because it's creepier- but I haven't got to that chapter yet, so that'll have to wait till Friday.

You can read the spooky fic Here.

#dannymay2023 #danny phantom #fanart #digital art #danny fenton #cryptid #fanfiction #That's totally not a overshadowed corpse or anything...

[cryptid-quest]

Cryptid of the Day: Giant Fossa

Description: 7ft Fossa used to live in Madagascar til their extinction. When and how they died off is unknown, but some have reported seeing massive fossas. This has led some to think that the species has survived to the modern day, and is living isolated in the jungles of the island.

#cryptid #cryptids #cryptozoology #cryptid of the day #giant fossa