Okay but what if Solas gets freed earlier than the big bad final fight (like we speculate) and he uses his Dread Wolf form in occasional pinches of combat?
And what if he has a moment where he has to deliberately choose his commitment to Rook like he had to do with the Inquisitor? (I'll utilize mine for this case.)
Walk with me. (Spoilery drabble under the cut. Probably OOC tbh.)
They're in a darkspawn infested spot. The objective was to get something. They got it, but now they're retreating back to the eluvian because there are far too many blighted things for them to feasibly fight against—it has infested the place, and Davrin being the only one resistant to it does not accommodate the very real threat of the others possibly being tainted.
So Solas, as one with the most experience of command, calls for a retreat. The rest of the Veilguard have stumbled either through or to the eluvian, watching anxiously as the rest forfeit their hard-won ground to safely draw back to his position as he covers for them.
Rook does not agree.
"It is suicide to stay here!" Solas shouts at her from across the battlefield, his spells as percussive and punctuated as if the Fade was popping through the Veil at his summons. It makes her hair stand on end, raises frissons under her clothes, and the pressure in her ears reminds her of the air tensing before a lightning strike. "We must go!"
"We've almost got them pushed back!" she retorts, all the way on the other side. The steppe is the highest point in the mountainside, and she has been blasting off the darkspawn with shockwaves of arcane energy thus far. "We could recover other things from the ruins!"
"It is not worth it if lives are lost in the process!" Solas snarls, and Rook glances over her shoulder at him with arched brows.
In the middle of the fray, overwhelmed by the surge of darkspawn scuttling over the cliff face like swarming insects, Emmrich stumbles and falls with a yelp.
Rook struggles to concentrate between two points of focus. She is in the middle of her own combat, but her first instinct is to run to the necromancer's side. He's still casting, keeping the infected off of him, but they give no room for him to get back to his feet.
Solas moves, so quickly that Rook did not catch it. Magic surges, tingles on the back of her tongue, and in a flash the Dread Wolf falls into a sprint across the ground glistening with ichor and smattered with decaying flesh and rotting guts.
Rook blasts through the wave clambering to drag her down and watches, slack-jawed, as the great black wolf lunges over Emmrich with a snarl, standing squarely over him with enough room to spare the tall human to right himself and flee to the eluvian unharmed.
Fen'Harel's mighty jaws snap around darkspawn left and right, shaking them to shatter their bones and flinging the battered corpses like rag dolls. Soon enough his teeth are stained with inky, corrupted blood, bits of viscera wedged between his frothing gums, and his six lyrium-blue eyes meet Rook's, resolute and unflinching.
In that moment, Rook knows he will leave her there to save the rest.
A hurlock grabs her ankle. It is half disintegrated by her magic, yet it's still going, still gurgling, still strong enough to yank her foot out from under her. She lands roughly on her back and the air rushes out of her lungs in a pained whoosh, stunning her. Her vision blurs and swims. The steady drain of her mana had already weakened her, in addition to her wounds, but she had bashed her head on the ground, too.
The hurlock intends to bring her down the cliffside with it, she knows. She grits her teeth against the pain and vertigo and bashes the heel of her boot against its face, sending it careening off the edge. Her heart leaps when she rolls over to scramble back up onto her hands and knees and realizes—too late—how close it had dragged her.
Her legs drop out into open air. Her belly scrapes against the slickened stone. Her fingertips dig into the gravel, a biting anchor sure to leave her own blood behind. Her nails might not survive the weight of her entire body hanging on the precipice of a fathomless drop. When she peers down past her shoulder, eyes rounding, and there is nothing but mist and insurmountable depth.
She barely hears her cry of alarm over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. She does not recognize her own voice. She certainly does not anticipate calling out to the bane of her existence as a means to preserve it. "Solas!"
The wind is deafening, rushing past her as though it, too, flees the darkspawn she could sense clawing their way up the mountainside by the dread building in the base of her throat. The wolf had turned to deal with another cluster of darkspawn, but his ears angled towards her before his great head whipped around to spot her where she fell.
Her grip slips. She skids further down in a heart-lurching, precious, hands-breadth of distance. Her shoulders ache with the strain. Her chin drags the edge of the jagged stone. She cannot get a foothold with how the rock curves away from the ledge. She thinks she hears someone hollering her name, somewhere behind the wolf. One of her companions, or multiple—she isn't sure. She can see nothing save the glow of his eyes and the whites rimming them as he stares at her.
"Harellan!" she screams. The insult turned barb turned nickname seems the least fitting thing to use to entreat the man whom she had treated with such utter disdain and irreverence for the first portion of their acquaintance. But it is who he proved himself to be: a rebel with a cause. A man who stops at nothing to do what he feels is right.
One who does not flinch at the idea of sacrifice in favor of victory.
Rook's grip fails her. She scrabbles for purchase to no avail. The stone arches away from her, it seems, and she falls.
She does not see how deep the gouges the Dread Wolf's claws score into the stone when he launches into a sprint aided by his magic, frost fringing the ends of his pelt. She does not see the full stride of his legs stretching and hauling the ground closer to project himself into a lightning-quick gallop across the steppe. She does not see him nearly careen clean off the side of the mountain, barely skidding to a halt in time—back feet digging into the skittering gravel—as his upper half lunges over the edge. She does not see the massive maw of teeth engulf her because she has already squeezed her eyes shut in hopes that she won't know when the ground reaches her.
But the ear-ringing snap of his jowls jolts her out of her shock. If she had died, she could expect it to be dark. Maybe even warm. But wet?
Rook gasps as she's clamped tight in the mouth of the great black wolf. Her orientation becomes muddled, then—she has no concept of what direction is up, where he's going, or even what's going on around them. Any sounds are muffled. She thinks she hears the roar of a beast too big for them to handle in their current state of exhaustion. Her heart hammers against the inside of her ribs, and the rumble that surrounds her sets her nerves alight with prey instinct.
Fen'Harel runs. He leaps. He lands, and it is a jarring, uncoordinated crash into the ground—hopefully across the relatively safe bounds of the eluvian.
"Solas! Where's Rook?"
"Did you catch her? Is she—"
"Did you eat her?"
To answer the clamor of questions ringing in her ears, the wolf's mouth opens. She slides out and collapses on the ground in a gruesome heap of bodily fluids and remains.
"Remind me never to ask you for help again," she croaks. She reaches up and swipes the saliva off her eyelids so she can glare up at the Dread Wolf staring down at her in turn, every last eye trained solely on her. She thinks he is assessing her for damage.
His fur shimmers and she watches, disoriented, as the man reemerges from the shape of the wolf. His armor is battered and his shoulders sag from what is likely too prolonged of a mana drain, but he seems no worse for wear. She is momentarily distracted from him as her companions cluster around her and pull her into a seated position, their hands as busy as their mouths as they fret and curse and express their relief all at once in a raucous cacophony.
Her eyes snap back over to Solas struts promptly over to a hedge, yanks off one of his gauntlets, and proceeds to press a couple fingertips into his mouth and—presumably—onto the back of his tongue. He then wretches into the unsuspecting foliage.
The others fall abruptly silent, stricken and perplexed.
"I feel like I should take this as an insult," Rook remarks, scowling. "Surely I don't taste that bad."
Solas' eyes are red-rimmed and watery when he straightens, and if it weren't for that he would look as composed and dignified as ever. He snatches a potion from his belt and gargles it thoroughly, swishes it around his mouth, then spits it out. He swipes the back of his hand against his lips and scowls at her. "Forgive me if I would rather not be tainted by those blasted creatures!" he snaps, thoroughly rankled.
She knows it's not simply from how terrible darkspawn must taste.
She is proven correct when he stalks back over and kneels before her, the tension in his frame wound so tight she wonders how close he is to snapping his own spine. "Disrobe."
The others part like water at his demanding tone with varying levels of skepticism and disquiet, brooking no argument. But Rook is nothing if not contrary—she opens her mouth to protest, but Solas only lets out a terse, angry sound and reaches for the buckles on her armor.
"Stop!" she growls, slapping his hand away. She swears she sees the vein in his temple throb as he rears back as though she offended him. "What are you talking about?"
"Your clothes have been contaminated," he explains harshly. "The taint binds to organic materials. Being as that you were thoroughly inundated in blighted essence since you were too stubborn to fall back when I said to and relied upon an unfavorable means of rescue, we cannot risk you becoming infected!" He gestures to her clothes. "We will have to burn them. That goes for the rest, as well. I am certain Davrin already knows this."
"It's not exactly something you can wash out," the warden agrees.
"Oh, you have got to be joking!" Rook scoffs. "This is not the first time we've faced off against those bastards! What makes it so different this go around?"
"Your wounds, Fenalan!" Solas snarls. The intensity of his conviction as well as the rattled, unsettled tinge straining his voice makes her clamp her jaw shut. "If any ichor enters your bloodstream, you are doomed! You already tread upon death's door in your obstinance, but now you risk falling victim to something far worse!"
She frowns at him. She has a few scratches here and there, nothing so severe as to warrant such a reaction. She had been battered far worse before, endured wounds much more likely to do her in than hese. Something else had caused Solas to go overboard.
Her mind recalls the memory she had walked here in the Crossroads. The agent in Ghilan'nain's laboratory. The set of Solas' jaw when he had accepted the inevitability of his duty. He could not save her. There was no cure. He had no other option save to put her out of her misery before she truly suffered with the invented abomination.
The same fraught, wild glint in the eyes of his younger image peer directly into her own now. He is angry, yes, undeniably. But he is afraid, too. He does not want to make a sacrifice this day, she thinks.
Her hands shake as she begins to work the buckles loose. The others seem to take that as a sign to follow suit, removing the pieces of their armor that could be salvaged while piling the rest away from the vegetation encroaching upon the old paths winding around the network of mirrors. The metals could be decontaminated. The fabrics crackle and stink when Solas lights them with a curt snap of his hands. They are reduced to ash in seconds from the intensity of his ire, and he contorts the fabric of the Veil to crush that into powder that drifts, inert and harmless, off the ledge of the island in the wind.
The others group loosely together and head toward the Caretaker's dock when Rook tips her head towards it, helping each other along if they were weak or disoriented. No one had suffered grave injuries, thankfully, upon careful inspection. Most of the ichor had stained the outermost layers, so not all of it had to be destroyed, fortunately.
It was tough business, dealing with a mutated double blight.
Rook hung back a moment, waiting for Solas to turn away from the singed, blackened space below his feet. He is still drawn as tense as a bowstring, and does not move until she steps close enough to touch his arm. He pivots away from her hand and his gaze is cold on her.
"Ir abelas," she says. "I did not mean to worry you."
If Solas is taken aback by her admission, he does not convey it. But his shoulders loosen, just slightly. "That mistake almost cost your life, Rook," he says grimly.
"I know. I will endeavor to keep my head next time." She gestures towards the others, their low conversations carried by the breeze despite their distance. "Let's go wash all this shit off, yes?"
Solas looses a heavy exhale. They began to walk together.
"'Ma serannas," she tells him. "I did not think you would save me."
His stride falters briefly, then slows to accommodate her attention. The furrow between his brows eases into incredulity. "Why?"
Perhaps she expected him to confirm that it had not been his intention, that he had only done so because she was somewhat necessary to their mission's success, in the end. That he seems shocked she would even ask unroots her perception of him slightly.
"I rejected your orders," she says simply. "I got carried away. You had every right to leave me behind, but you didn't."
"I did not." Solas studied her for a moment, pensive. "I would not allow you to perish if I have a say in it, Fenalan," he offers after a moment. It is careful. It is measured. Yet she still notices the lack of bite to the words he normally wields when speaking to her. She had cultivated that response, she supposes, with how often she had exchanged verbal jabs with him in the beginning.
"Even if I don't understand your motivations," Rook sighs, "I thank you nevertheless." She swallows. "Ir abelas."
"Tel'abelas, ean'din. I am pleased to see you still live."
"Despite the perpetual headache I pose?"
"Despite that." Solas shakes his head. "I...do not think poorly of you. I would not see you fall into danger unnecessarily. That you can be so reckless and negligent of your own well-being at times is...disconcerting."
Rook cast him a side-eye. "Pot meet kettle. You stop throwing yourself on the line for the rest of us and I'll do the same."
The god of lies, treachery, and rebellion huffed what could have been a laugh. And Rook wonders if Varric would have any light to shed upon why the Dread Wolf was so protective of his unwitting pack, if he would ever admit to such a concept.
SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?
CHARACTERS: Trey Clover x Reader ♣️🦐
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Flirting; Kiss
WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Trey’s dream (Eng Server)
WORD COUNT: 4.300 words
COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.
I hope you enjoy ♣️
Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / Jamil / Floyd / Jade / Azul / Jack / Ruggie / Leona / Deuce / Cater / Ace / (Trey) / Riddle / Sebek / Silver / Lilia / Malleus
“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”
You, Grim, Silver, Sebek, Ortho, Leona, Deuce, Cater, Ace and Idia’s tablet reach the next dream and landed in front of the entrance to the Heartslabyul dorm building. Everyone was fine after the crossing. Ace compared this to a ride on a roller coaster and you even had a little chit-chat about your previous journeys between dreams.
“Hey, froshes.” Leona says impatiently. “If you're done shootin' the breeze, let's find the dreamer already.”
“Yessir... But wait, don't we already know this is Trey's dream?” Ace says. “I've been smelling something sweet and buttery since we got here. I think we can guess where Trey's gonna be.”
“Yup. Let's pay the dorm kitchen a visit.” Cater agrees.
You all come in and walk down the hallway. You could smell the good things he was cooking from afar. Cherry pie, raspberry tart, scones with apricot jam and a vegetable quiche. Grim was salivating and ready to go straight to the kitchen when Cater stopped everyone for a moment.
“If you want the Cay-kun take, I'd suggest not taking the whole group into the kitchen.” He says there's a chance Trey isn't alone in the kitchen, and that could be a risk for Ace and Deuce to go in. In Cater's case, he can use his signature spell as an excuse.
“It'd raise suspicion if we all marched into the kitchen as a huge group anyway.” Leona adds.
“So, do we make a scouting team?” Silver asks.
“I'm down for that.” Cater agrees. “I'll be the team's Heartslabyul guy. Then we'll need peeps who it wouldn't be weird for me to be with. How about my fellow juniors, Leona and Idia?”
Cater's idea was that the safest thing would be for him to go in with the people who were as unlikely to be in Heartslabyul as possible.
“I'm not taking no from either of you! Now c'mon! You're way more dependable than me in a fight, Leona. Cay-kun's just a little weakling, y'know?”
“Tch, you liar. What a hassle...” Leona complains.
Cater grabs Leona and Idia's tablet and takes them both with him to the kitchen while Idia protests, shouting that he doesn't want to go. You wanted to go too, but you didn't even have time to try to convince Cater to take you too.
“We'll listen in over your tablet mic, Idia!” Ortho says.
That wasn't Heartslabyul's kitchen, or at least not the real one. It was abnormally larger than any normal kitchen, and there were tons and tons of sweets everywhere.
“Hm? I hear people talking behind that stack of pies.” Leona says.
“Awmph... Boy, your meat pie is pawsitively purrfect as always!” A voice that doesn't belong to any of the Night Raven College students, but is still familiar, says.
“I know the first slice of a whole cake belongs to the housewarden...” Trey says. “...but you should still probably avoid snacking on things that haven't even cooled yet, Chenya.” He was wearing a fancy black and red chef's uniform with gold trim and a tall hat. The dreamer's silver bird was flying around his head too.
“But your meat pies tastes best when they're piping hot and fresh out of the oven!” Chenya was wearing the same clothes as the other times you saw him, the only difference being that he had a familiar crown on his head. “Having first dibs privileges is one of the best parts of being housewarden.”
“Keep talking like that and you'll burn the inside of your mouth again. I wish you'd be more careful around hot food.” Trey smiles, amused.
Cater, Ace, and Deuce also knew Chenya, so they explained to their respective groups that he was a longtime friend of Trey and Riddle and that he is a junior student at Royal Sword Academy. And from what they were saying, and from the crown on his head, in Trey's dream, he was the Housewarden of Heartslabyul and not Riddle, somehow.
“Heya, Trey!” Cater greets, approaching Trey and Chenya. “Working hard in the kitchen as per ushe, I see.”
“Cater? ...Wait, you're not the original.” Trey notices.
“Whoa! How'd you guess?”
“It's not hard after knowing you for three years.” Trey says with a calm smile.
“Oh, uh... Huh. Is that a fact? Have you been able to tell us apart immediately this whole time?”
“Depends on the occasion, really. You seem very different from normal today, so it was an easy guess to make.”
Trey asks about Leona and Idia who are with him and Cater says that a recent exam had gone badly and he needed tutoring from 'the big brains'. Chenya says that he could have asked Riddle for help and this is when they discover that Riddle is one of Heartslabyul's card soldiers. He also talks about how Riddle is an excellent student and Leona takes the opportunity to ask why he isn't the housewarden then.
Trey and Chenya say he challenged Chenya for the position, but lost the fight because Chenya is practically immune to the Riddle's signature spell. Chenya's signature spell not only makes him invisible, but also makes his body simply disappear and spells pass through him.
“I'm well a-head of all these other mages.” Chenya says. “Speaking of which, I'll leave you to your tea.”
“Chenya, don't forget-” Trey says before Chenya disappears completely. “-today's unbirthday party starts at 4 o'clock. We'll be waiting for you in the garden.”
“Maybe I'll be there... and maybe I won't. But a very special guest will, I hope...” And his head, which was all that was left of Chenya, began to disappear as he humed.
“Good grief... Our housewarden and his whims.” Trey comments, smiling in amusement.
“He mentioned a special guest.” Cater says. “Are you expecting anyone outside of Heartslabyul?”
“Oh, yeah. (Y/N) and Grim haven't arrived yet. You didn't happen to see them on the way, did you?”
“(Y/N) and Grim? Oh, yeah, we did pass them before we went through the mirror. They were heading to the botanical garden. Maybe they went to do some homework. They should be on their way.” The way Cater spoke seemed to be giving you a hint to come into the kitchen.
“I'm more relieved then. They're already quite late for what I agreed with (Y/N). Oh, whoops. The cake should be just about done. Hold on while I fetch it from the oven, okay?”
And so, Trey walks away from them in that gigantic kitchen. While they recap what they realized was happening in that dream, you enter the kitchen with Grim and join them. Grim wants to start eating everything, but Cater says it's better to wait for Trey to get back, so Grim doesn't eat anything he shouldn't.
“You know, I'm not surprised Trey is dreaming about you coming to one of our unbirthday parties.” Cater tells you. “He really likes cooking for you. Maybe it's because you love everything he makes, or maybe it's because the students of Heartslabyul are already used to his sweets, so it's kinda not as fun anymore in a way. I even think it's cute how excited you get to try his sweets. Anyway, the more the merrier.”
“So, how do we wake him up?” Leona asks.
“It's not like we're in a dream that's far-removed from reality, like Leona's was.” Idia says. “Sometimes the minor differences with reality are the hardest ones to highlight, huh? Any ideas for waking Trey up, Cater?”
“That's the question, isn't it... Hmm.”
“Hey, are you guys hungry?” Trey comes back. “Oh, (Y/N), Grim, you arrived. You are quite late, you know?” He says with a smile.
“Oh, sorry. We...” You remember what Cater said before and think of a plausible scenario as an excuse. “Grim left a potionology assignment for the last minute and we had to go to the botanical garden to check some things.”
“WHA-?! You are blamin' the great Grim?”
“Hahaha. I believe it.” Cater says, approving of your excuse. “It wouldn't be the first time, would it, Grim-chan?”
Grim tried to deny it but he couldn't, in fact he had already left a lot of homework for the last minute before.
“But what were you talking about, Trey?” Cater returns to the subject. “You asked if we were hungry.”
“Oh, yes. I tried making a new dessert from this cookbook I picked up not too long ago: yogurt topped with lemon jelly. Would you be willing to sample it and give me some feedback? The only sweetener it uses is honey. I know you don't like sweets, Cater. But I figured this one's got a tartness that might not be a dealbreaker for you.”
“Whoa, are you sure?” Cater asks. “Don't the rules say the housewarden gets first dibs on food items?”
“The rules specify ‘the first slice of a whole cake’, meaning desserts served in glassware are actually exempt. Besides, even if it WAS a slice of cake, our housewarden wouldn't get bent out of shape over that. Here, I made some tea to go with it too. There's a dining table over there. Have a seat and relax.”
Grim doesn't waste any time and runs to the table and starts eating one of the yogurts.
“Oh, if you guys don't mind,” Trey continues. “I just need to take (Y/N) with me for a moment to help me with something.”
“Ah, that's why you were talking about them being late.” Cater realizes. “What is it? Maybe I could help too.”
“Oh, no, there's no need. It's actually something they asked me for. But you should hurry up or Grim will eat your parts too. Ha ha. We won't be long.”
Seeing that Grim was already eating his fifth yogurt, Cater hurries to the table. Leona and Idia follow without much fuss. The kitchen had a strange layout, and Trey takes you to a part with more counters but hidden by huge cabinets. You ask Trey what he needed your help with and he laughs.
“Well, like I said, it's something you asked me for.”
“Did I ask you to make a specific dessert?” You ask, looking around in confusion.
“Ha ha ha! You've already made some requests like that before, but this isn't the case.” He laughs, he seemed to be having fun playing riddles with you. “Okay, okay, I'll tell you. You've said many times that I'm always so busy with my vice housewarden duties that we never have time for each other. *sigh* And this is my last year here. I should take the opportunity while I still have the ease of meeting with you. After all, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't.”
You try not to show too much choke when you hear him call himself your boyfriend. Luckily for you, he takes this shock as surprise that he did all that for you. Especially since you were smiling, after all you also had a crush on him.
He hugs you gently and starts to kiss your cheek lightly but affectionately. He sees that you were enjoying it, so he turns you with your back to the counter and slowly pushes you until you touch it. This is where he surprises you, grabbing you by the waist and making you sit on the counter, with your legs dangling.
“However...” He whispers with his lips very close to yours and a seductive look. “We have a problem. You arrived late, remember? As a student of Heartslabyul... or worse, as the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul, I can't let such an infraction slide so lightly... can I?”
“But I am not a Heartslabyul student.” You appeal.
“But you are here.” He smirks. “A person should follow the rules of the house where you are, not the house you come from. That would be unmannered, wouldn't it?”
He moves away from you.
“Well, as your punishment, you will have to wait until the end of the unbirthday party to enjoy some alone time with me. It's not even that harsh, is it? Heh heh. Now, help me bring a few more things to the table, please.”
As expected, everyone loved Trey's cooking. He even made Leona a meat pie. He made so much food that even Grim couldn't finish it all.
Trey was pacing back and forth, always wanting you and the others to try more things. When he moved far enough away to be out of earshot, you resumed discussing the situation amongst yourselves. You reveal to them that he seems to be dreaming that the two of you are dating. This surprises Grim, Idia, and even Leona.
“I knew it!” Cater says triumphantly, but quietly. He sighs “Now I feel even worse about having to wake him up. You and the others are amazing, (Y/N). If I were in your shoes, I'd totally start wondering if maybe it was better we just... didn't wake people up. If we couldn't just let it be. In fact, that's kinda where I am right now.”
“Hah. So much for that motivational speech you gave Spikey about not settling for being weak.” Leona comments. “You walkin' all that bravado back?”
“Nah. I was just thinking, if that whole spat with Riddle's family had never happened... Trey might've turned out to be a peppy patissier just like this.”
“Wait, a spat with Riddle's family?” Idia questions.
“Hey, guys. The sticky toffee pudding's all done!” Trey comes back again. “It's especially good fresh out of the oven when the toffee is all gooey and hot. Go on, eat up.”
“You've served up enough snacks.” Leona says. “Now help us eat some of 'em.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. I just get lost in cooking whenever I come to the kitchen.”
Amidst small talk, Trey says that his liking for baking came from his family, who runs a patisserie in the Queendom of Roses, and talks a little about how much he enjoys baking and seeing people enjoy his sweets. He even talks about how much he enjoys having a kitchen as big as the one in Heartslabyul, or rather, the Heartslabyul kitchen he's dreaming of.
“Here, I can make as many sweets as I want, and even if I go overboard, people will always eat every bit. Chenya and the other students happily devour anything I set out, and appreciate the lack of food waste. And Riddle's so different from how he used to be. He eats whatever he likes and has as much of it as he wants. It makes me truly happy.”
“The way you're talkin' makes it sound like there's more story there.” Leona realizes. “What happened?”
Trey tells what happened to him, Chenya and Riddle when they were little and how Riddle's mother gave him and the whole Clover family a five-hour lecture, over a single slice os tart. But even so, he confesses that he and Chenya think of Riddle as a little brother.
“Ah, that's the cookies.” Trey says when he hears the oven signal. “It's almost time for 4 o'clock tea. I'd better get all these snacks plated and take them out to the garden. (Y/N), could you help me?”
Unfortunately for you, this time he really needed your help, it wasn't just an excuse. However, in the midst of all that party preparation, with Trey telling you what dishes to bring and asking your opinion on some of the decorations, there’s this moment when he chuckles. You asked him what was that funny.
“Nothing special, it's just... This reminded me of my parents preparing family dinners and things like that. And so I started to imagine what it would be like... you and I... doing this in a house of our own, and that made me happy. Heh heh.” He kisses your cheek. “Sorry, we should go back to－”
You hear a commotion in the hallway and Carter yelling. You two drop what you're doing and go see what's going on.
“What's wrong? I heard Cater yelling...” Trey asks when the two of you reach the hallway where everyone is. “Ah! I guess you're all here for teatime snacks.”
He was acting too casual for what was happening in front of you. In addition to the people of your dream team, there were four other... people? They were Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Riddle from Trey's dream, but they didn't have human bodies; they looked more like giant balls with faces and Heartslabyul clothes. It was something beyond absurd.
“Well, this batch all came out great.” Trey continues. “I'll get them to the garden tables and... Hm?! What's going on?! I see two Aces and Deuces!”
“Whoa, you're right!” Giant ball Ace says.
“They were so small I didn't even notice them, but you're right! It's me and Ace.” Giant ball Deuce says.
“And they're a lot smaller.” Trey points “What happened here?!”
“That's what I wanna know, Trey!” The real Ace says. “Why are we so ridiculously huge, we're like boulders blocking the hallways?! Plus, we're not that round! Come on, get a grip!”
“Huh...? You're... not round?”
The dream begins to distort.
“Ah! Trey's shaken!” Silver says.
“What's weird is that he didn't even question the sight of those giant guys to start with!” Grim comments.
That madness continues to the point where Cater now realizes why Trey knew right away that he wasn't the original Cater from his dream. Everyone comments on how messed up that dream is, but Trey seems to have taken it differently.
“Messed up...? I'm messed up?”
They keep talking about how Trey always told them about moderation and how he always seems to want a normal, peaceful place. But that dream was all just freaking weird.
“Normal? Peaceful? Hrk! What's going on? My head－!” His dream distorts again. “The peace I want... Agh!”
The dream darkens and the giant, round students of the dream are covered in the black goo you've seen so many times. And as expected, they try to convince Trey to listen to them and immerse himself in the dream again. But more than that, the fake Ace and Deuce start rolling towards the real ones and the other members of your team like giant boulders ready to crush them. They end up making Grim run away with the others too, but not you because you never left Trey's side.
If you're with Trey, they can't hurt you; they'd risk hurting Trey too, and that would be against their nature. So you hug Trey's arm. But before you try to wake him up, there's something that's bothering you more than that.
“Trey... Am I like that here too?” This idea bothered you a lot. “Is that how you see me too?”
“What? What do you mean if you're like that too?” The fact that he's talking with a headache ends up making him more sincere than you expected. “I mean, I'm glad you eat whatever you want too, and I'm even happier when it's something I bake. Your smile... is the most wonderful of all... But... for some reason you always look so... beautiful. I would never see you the same way I see them... Arg!”
“Trey, think, when did we meet?” Satisfied with that answer, at least for now, you return to the main mission. “Who was the housewarden?”
“When... did we meet...?”
He remembers you helping Ace get rid of the collar Riddle had put on him, but failing and instead getting into an argument with Riddle.
“I am the one who decides what is wrong and right!” Housewarden Riddle told you. “What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules? Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. And as a result... You lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It's quite sad.”
“You’re right... This is wrong... Chenya isn't the housewarden of Heartslabyul... This is wrong! And Riddle strictly adheres to recommended daily nutritional allowances. He would never eat everything and anything I made to this point.”
“Trey? How can you say that?” Fake Riddle says. “Anyone would lose their self-control when faced with one of your works of culinary perfection. Mother can't watch over me here. Why should I care one whit about recommended allowances? I can eat food all day when you're the one cooking it!”
And speaking of which, the fake Riddle and Cater smelled Trey's freshly baked treats and took off rolling into the kitchen to attack the food. You follow them to the kitchen and see them eating like animals and even talk while eating.
“Stop it...” Trey demands. “This is wrong! You guys would never act like this.”
“What's the problem?” Fake Cater asks. “Didn't you say you're happiest when you see us eating our fill?” He smirks. “Especially (Y/N)... But when you see them eating your sweets, you feel... happier than usual... don't you, Trey?”
“Heh... Haha... Even if I did...” Trey says with a smirk, and without denying the fake Cater's insinuation. “You guys wouldn't eat to the point that you turn into THAT. Cater hates sweets. And Riddle strictly follows nutritional guidelines... Ugh... The way you're eating is horrible. Watching you is making me sick to my stomach!”
“What? How could you say something so cold, Trey?” Fake Riddle questions, offended.
All of this makes Trey remember the truth and finally break the dream.
“Aha... Ahaha... What was going through my head? I completely lost sight of Myself, and you guys. I'm a failure as Heartslabyul's vice housewarden, and as a chef.”
At that moment, part of the ceiling collapses, you are temporarily blinded by a mist of dark sand and when you look again you see Ace, Deuce, Grim and all the other boys from your dream team.
“Having Leona use his signature spell to open holes all over the floor to stop the darkness was a good plan...” Ace comments. “It really was, but...”
“All this sand everywhere is makin' my nose itch!” Grim says before sneezing.
After making sure you and Trey are okay and he's awake, you fight off the remaining dark figures.
“Geez, they were huge.” Trey says, panting after the fight.
“It's impressive they managed to grow that much...” Cater comments. “And not in a good way.”
“Every time I buy a new cookbook, I get the itch to make everything in it...” Trey admits. “But I'll be careful not to go overboard.”
“Don't worry, Trey! If you make too much, you can bring ALL the extra food over to Ramshackle.” Grim says excitedly. “We'll give it a good home, and we won't tell if you won't!”
“Please don't spoil Grim.” You say. “But our doors are always open to you!”
“Ahaha, thanks for the support. Don't worry, i'll stay on top of things. Now then... I vaguely remember bringing a cake to Lilia's farewell party. But everything after that is fuzzy. Could someone explain what's going on here?”
“Heh heh, I've got this!” Ortho says. “Trey Clover, could you start by watching this video?”
“Wow... I'm not sure what to say. Things are wildly out of hand.” Trey then gets in a thoughtful silence for a moment. “Hm... before we proceed with Malleus topic...” He looks at you and then back to the others. “Could you give me a moment to talk to (Y/N)?”
“Yeah, I thought this was coming.” Cater says with a conniving smile. “Hey, freshies, you guys wanted to try Trey's sweets too, didn't you? Why don't you take the opportunity to do it now?”
They all stay at the table eating some of the many sweets that were still to be eaten, while Trey and you go back to that corner hidden by the cabinets.
“(Y/N)... I... *sigh* I'm so embarrassed about all of this. I'm so sorry for... well, especially for what happened here.” He looks away from you and seems to want to pull his chef's hat over his face. “And on top of that, I'm your senpai. This was indeed something... shameful.”
You stop him there and admit that you like him too.
“What?! Heh heh...” He smiles awkwardly. “You don't need to say that to make me happy, you know? Don't worry, that's not what's going to make the darkness come back. You can tell me the truth. After all, this is all my fault and responsibility.”
You reiterate what you said and assure him it's true. You even go so far as to list everything you like about him and how he's basically the definition of ‘husband material’. It's so funny to see how flustered he gets.
“Oh, come on, t-there's no need to exaggerate like that.” He says, blushing. “Even so... I feel ashamed of how I treated you without your consent. I know that... I ended up not kissing you but...”
“And that is what is a pity.” You say with a smirk.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise at first, but then he smirks seductively back at you.
“You really mean it when you say you enjoyed that moment, huh. Hmm... In that case... I remember I only didn't kiss you because I wanted to punish you for being late. But now... I should reward you for waking me up instead, shouldn't I?”
You don't hide your expectant smile, and in response, he surprises you again by grabbing you by the waist and sitting you on the counter like the first time. He brings his face closer to yours, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, and stops just inches away from your lips.
“Thank you~” He whispers before kissing your lips.
Full list of characters: Dating in a Dream - Index
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
it may seem like i favour putting reader in pomefiore.. and yes.. that is true lol, this was written back in jan '24 so maybe vil is acting too harsh when i first wrote it but eh
Vil x Pomefiore!Reader (established rs)
:: reader is implied to be constantly ill, mentions of medicine, jealous and possessive vil, marking(?)
1.2k words, not prood read - please excuse any minor grammar/spelling errors ty!
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After long days of recovery in the infirmary from being stressed over multiple things, you finally got back into your school social life by mingling with everyone, getting to know the gossip that happened over the time you were stuck in bed and eating medicine for your health issues.
Sure you got lectured by your lover for not taking care of yourself, but that was always Vil's way of showing he cared, by nagging and nagging <3.
It got a bit hard for Vil to nag you however when you were all over the place, talking to this person, then talking to that person, and so on. You were always busy doing something with someone. Of course it was good you were back on your feet and socialising but it only became a problem when a certain beastman took interest in you.
Vil had told Rook to keep an eye out for you whenever he himself was busy and the result of those observations always managed to get him even more riled up than they should have.
"what do you mean that beastman is always around him? does he have no care for personal space." Vil argued to himself after listening to the things Rook had reported to him.
"but also Roi du Poison, Roi des Lions has been a bit.."
Vil furrowed his eyebrows in anger, raising his voice loud enough for the birds around the dorm to flutter far away.
"THAT BEASTMAN DOES WHAT?!"
Oh boy was he angry alright. He immediately went on his way to find that beastman who was flirting with what was his.
You walked out of the cafeteria after finishing lunch and took a stroll in the courtyard to free your mind a bit but unfortunately was followed by a certain individual.
"no one will bother you if im around" He spoke quietly next to you with a grin."
"haha very funny Leona. I want a quiet place to take my medicine" You replied while looking elsewhere, trying to find an empty spot to sit down.
"there's always the botanical garden."
You tutted and shook your head. "you'll coax me into taking a nap and miss my classes" The two chatted more until finally sitting down under a nearby tree for shade with Leona leisurely laying down about to take a nap.
"i dont just offer for anyone y'know" He continues with a long sigh.
You side eyed him while you took out your small pouch of medicine. To be honest, you don't know why Leona had decided to approach you in the first place since you were a Pomefiore student and were 'too pompous' for his liking.
You gulped down your medicine and continue your conversation with Leona a bit more before you both heard clacking of high heels heading your way.
"(Y/N)."
Vil called out once he reached the two, very clearly avoiding the glare of the beastman in his presence. "hm? Vil?"
"Why are you hanging out with this.. beastman?" He replied to you, in return getting an annoyed grumble coming from the other man in question.
You shrugged and tried to tell him you didn't know why he was following you around but for some reason your words just went out the other ear.
"you understand that the more you spend with him the less time you spend on yourself." He continued complaining.
You looked back to Leona with an apologetic look while he was being dissed right in front of his face, but there was nothing you could do about it. Sure these quarrels happen a lot between the two housewardens but that doesn't make it any less bearable.
Suddenly you were pulled up by Vil as he grabbed a hold of your arm and told you to stand up. "you're even missing your beauty lessons I gave you, you dare skip out on those?" You was confused because Vil had never mentioned such lessons before.
"huh? wha-"
"come along now" Vil dragged you away quickly and cutting off your sentence, leaving behind a grumbling Leona alone. "b-but Vil you've never talked to me about beauty lessons-"
You tried speaking out but it was clear that Vil wasn't listening to you at all and continued walking until you both turned to an empty corner where Vil gently pushed you against the wall.
"his smell is all over you." Vil tutted in slight disgust. You could only pout at the sudden harshness your housewarden was showing you.
Vil continued talking while taking out a slim bottle from the inside of his jacket pocket and taking off the cap. "you're lucky I bring a small bottle of perfume with me." You sighed as you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose attack of perfume on you.
This was puzzling to you since Vil knew very well you had a sensitive nose but nonetheless gave you a few sprits of his beloved perfume.
"now loosen your tie and unbutton your collar." Vil then ordered, placing the perfume back into his pocket. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden order, and before you were able to question him he immediately continued,
"listen to your housewarden."
Vil rarely used his housewarden authority on you so you were worried what would happened if you didn't listen, you nervously loosened your tie and unbuttoned your collar while trying to maintain eye contact with Vil.
As soon as you finished Vil took your hands into his own and occupied them as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "now be good and don't squirm, understood?"
Extremely overwhelmed and confused, you couldn't comprehend what was happening until you felt soft lips against the skin on your neck. He placed multiple kisses along the side of your neck, occasionally leaving a single bite mark as well.
It was very rare that he would ever do such a thing but in this moment, the feelings of jealousy and possessiveness swirling inside him wouldn't go away so he just had to leave marks so everyone knew who you belonged to.
He continued kissing and sucking along your collarbone, listening to your mumbled words and hot breath against your ear. Your Breathing picked up as you squirmed your hands a bit, wanting to get out of Vil's grip but it was impossible.
"what did I say?" You immediately heard, earning an annoyed glance from Vil's eyes.
Vil stopped for a second and let go of your hands, to which quickly found their way under Vil's jacket, gripping onto the inner vest fabric. "careful. do not mess up my uniform sweet pea." He spoke before tilting your head to the side.
"other side now, shall we."
Leaving a string of kisses and love bites on your neck and collar bone again on the opposite side. It was clear how smudged his lipstick was at this point and pulled back finally, taking a long satisfied look at his creation.
Your face was red all over, a single kiss mark on your cheek and your neck was littered with signs of Vil and still a hint of that perfume smell from earlier.
"how beautiful.."
He smiled, taking out a small handkerchief a wiping his lips. "button up and re-do your tie, i need to reapply my lipstick. you will follow me for the rest of the day, and do not dare to wipe anything off."
This whole elven gods end of the world vashedan is really fucking with Taash's sleep.
And sleep is important. Shathann's not right about everything, but she's right about that.
Ever since they joined up with Rook, though, it's been harder to make time for all their bedtime routine stuff—the tea, the snack, the embrium pills. There's always something to do, some lead to chase, someone to help. There's stakes. But the routine matters. Getting a solid night's sleep actually does make a difference. It does for everyone, probably, not just adaari, but it helps double with the adaari stuff. Helps them control it better. Makes it hurt less.
Makes it less likely they'll hurt someone they don't mean to.
There was a close call earlier today: Assan dove at a hurlock that was squaring up with Taash just as they opened their mouth to stun it with a quick burst of flame. The fire's hard to swallow back down once it's ignited. Burns like a nughumper. But they tried anyway.
Now they can't get the smell of burnt feathers out of their nose.
Davrin's on watch, sitting with his arms dangling over his knees just inside the glow of the campfire, and Taash sits up with a whispered, "Hey."
He doesn't move, but Taash feels his eyes settle on them. "Still got a few hours to go before it's your turn. You should sleep."
"You sound like my tama."
He snorts. "Your tama watch you climb up an ancient elven ruin and suplex two genlocks through an upside-down waterfall today?"
"If she had, she'd probably tell me to quit playing around and just stab them."
Taash's attempt at a joke—but it's not really a joke, because that is what Shathann would say—goes unanswered.
One of the burning logs cracks and settles, sending up a shower of sparks, and Rook shifts in his sleep a few feet away. Assan is curled up between him and Davrin with his beak tucked under one wing. His little snores whistle up into the dark canopy overhead.
He looks okay. And he doesn't smell scared anymore. Still, there's no way Taash is falling asleep until they know for sure.
"Is he—"
"He's fine. A little singed, but he learned his lesson." There's no whiff of vashe-qalab coming off Davrin, no sign he's just saying it to make them feel better, and Taash's shoulders start to relax as he keeps talking: "Your throat okay? Or… wherever the fire comes from? I saw you drinking a tonic afterward."
Yeah, and then embrium pills, and then more embrium pills, and tea, and extra herby biscuit things leftover from when Bellara made dinner last night. They made sure to do the whole routine tonight. No more close calls.
"'S fine." Taash shrugs. "Nothing I can't handle. Just sorry it hit him."
"It's his own fault," Davrin mutters, shaking his head. "If it hadn't been your fire breath it would've been one of Rook's daggers, or Neve's spells, or—"
"Emmrich's creepy spirit things."
"Is that what they are?"
"No clue. I just know they give me the creeps."
"My point is: we're all dangerous. Assan should know better. I've trained him better. Or at least… Anyway. He's fine."
He adds a few more sticks to the fire. Brushes his hands together. Gets back to staring out at the surrounding forest.
Okay...
"Well. I'm still sorry."
"Thanks, Taash."
It's a dismissal, that much is obvious. They should accept it and get some sleep, like he said. But there's something he's leaving out, something that won't let Taash's muscles relax that last little bit, something else for their brain to start chewing on.
"It's not your fault either, y'know," they venture.
Davrin grunts out a frustrated laugh, keeping it quiet so he doesn't wake the others. "It is, though. I'm responsible for him."
"So you're gonna spend your whole watch brooding about it? C'mon, man. Brooding is Lucanis's thing."
"And he looks stupid doing it."
"Like he's trying so hard not to fart."
Davrin's laugh comes a little easier this time, and he turns his head down to Assan. The big cat-bird's paw twitches as he chases some dream nugs.
"We're all just doing our best, huh?" he says faintly.
Taash clears their throat. Thinks about taking another embrium pill. "Trying to."
There's another long stretch of silence and they figure the conversation's over for good this time, better stretch out and try to sleep, but then Davrin's voice drifts out of the darkness again: "Do you think Spite can make Lucanis fart?"
"Probably," Taash snickers. "He could probably even make Lucanis shart if he wanted to."
"What if we put—"
"Will you two please shut up about Lucanis's farts? Assassins don't fart. Bad for business," Rook grumbles, rolling over to put his back to the fire.
"But Rook—"
"Get some fucking sleep, Taash!"
"Fine, but only because I want to," Taash mutters, pretending to sulk because it'll make Davrin laugh.
And he does, and then Rook throws a waterskin at him, and then Assan wakes up and thinks they're playing fetch, and Taash can't help but feel a little better about life than they did a few minutes ago, sore throat and all.
Because yeah, the elven gods are real, and yeah, they're trying to destroy the world. A world that's full of people—and cat-birds—Taash cares about.
So they have to fight. And to do that, they have to get some fucking sleep.
charlie with a partner who has always been a little bit odd – they talk in monotone, unsettlingly eloquent and well-spoken since they were a child. they're quiet most of the time, and when they do speak, many mistake their tone as apathetic, indifferent. their voice rasps when they raise it from a whisper.
charlie with a partner whose gaze terrifies suburban barbecue dads and yoga carpool moms as they cross each other's paths. a partner who animals always seem to follow around; there's a black cat with a torn ear in the alley by their apartment, a stray dog that walks home with them from work at night and growls at passerbys who get too close, and at any given time at least 10 corvids of all sizes - ravens, crows, magpies, jackdaws, rooks and jays - are nonchalantly perching upon roofs and treetops around them, silent and territorial.
charlie with a partner who has always had a fondness for the macabre – kissed their dead grandmother on the cheek at her funeral as a child in spite of the way the adults gasped; collects, cleans and proudly displays the animal bones they find on their walks in the woods; is constantly finding new books on folk magic and mythology from all over the world, and learning scraps of dead languages to read the incantations they find on the pages.
charlie with a partner who's borderline terrifying. a vacant look behind their eyes like a doll, moving so quietly you'd never hear them sneak up on you, cold hands that always grip a little too firmly.
...
charlie with a partner who's just autistic, actually! they never learned social cues and they have no plans to, they only open up with people they're really close with, and their special interests are taxidermy and birds and folk horror.
charlie adores them, has learned all their little quirks and pet peeves, falls deeper in love with them every day. he never got why people called them scary – he loves to listen to their sweet, gentle voice as they talk about mythology and proper mortician practice and dead languages and just about anything, really. the stray dog has started accepting treats when charlie picks his partner up from work, and even tolerated a gentle pat on the head!
he scoops them into his lap at the end of a long day and tucks their hands underneath his hoodie to warm them up, knowing how bad their circulation gets sometimes. he stims with them constantly, drumming out beats on each other's thighs and finishing each other's vocal stims.
okay sure charlie was a tiny bit scared when they asked for a vial of his blood and offered one of theirs in return, but, y'know. it was a sweet gesture and they both wear it on a necklace <3
As someone who draws a lot and tends to use myself as a reference for proportions and poses, I think it'd be funny if Hae!Vil saw The Human's camera roll is just... mostly just themself in various poses (& with various outfits to get fabric right)
Vil: what.. are you doing with the pictures? none of them are posted to your magicam and the lighting and quality is terrible in them, compared to professional shooting.
Human: art
Vil: ..?
Human: I take pictures for references to draw, so I can get proportions and stuff right. though most of my characters have always been non-human, and the wings and features look weird ...
Vil: *already getting a professional photo shoot thing set up*
Human: Vil- Vil what're you doing?
Vil: I am your muse now.
Human: I- ... y'know what that's actually pretty helpful. Sure. Yeah. Thank you Vil
& from there, the Human had a much easier time drawing wings and clawed/bird feet. Occasionally they just go up to Vil like "hey Vil. Lemme see your wings. Feathers aren't feathering right in my drawings."
All of the boys would be willing to model and pose for any art the Human does. Vil, Neige, and Rook especially because they are used to the idea of using references to help with poses/proportions and two of them are professional models.
I always assumed the humans in nonhuman au were more so a statistical minority, like few enough in number that not much accommodates them but enough humans that most know about humans and have various ideas or info on humans to varying degrees. It's like how peanut allergies technically only affect 1.8% of the US population but most everyone knows about peanut allergies and some info on what that can entail except in Nonhuman AU, humans are the statistical minority and are dwindling population just due to getting absorbed into the population as humans keep mixing into the nonhumans like how modern day homo sapiens absorbed neanderthals and other ancient humans, the lineages merged.
I imagine most clothes, desk sizes, a fair amount of food dishes and products are made for and influenced by a huge variety of historic animal behaviors and the cultures that grew from these natural behaviors over history thus many foods, play stuff, and even products like perfume or soaps are made with most other evolved creatures in mind. Stuff like soaps and perfumes with more mild or very specific scents that might appeal to creatures, products a human society wouldn't have but that makes perfect sense for a world where it's normal for some folks to dig giant holes by hand (rabbits, moles, hedgehogs) or climb. Plus there are probably a lot of more products made for large creatures. Although considering that most "megafauna" which includes humans and larger are technically in the minority in terms of numbers and species, especially considering the sheer number of species of rodents and opossums and various other creatures that are much smaller, so it's likely that a fair amount of stuff still fits humans just by virtue of there being SO many smol beasties that evolved from the plethora of small animals (seriously, so many creatures tend to be on the small side like lizards birds rodents etc with a few notable Large Lads of which humans are technically a part of, including deer wolves bears etc)
However humans are notably odd in comparison to most, we're the naked chimps that became long distance runners who throw stuff and were extremely social to everything. So we'd still be odd to most beasties especially since our natural instincts aren't really like the others either, human instinct tends to boil down to: wander, explore, make friend of some kind, experiment or create, walk forever (it's why pacing is a common behavior to do absentmindedly or when nervous or anxious- relying on natural behavior to self soothe technically). Arguably the only equivalent oddball is the naked mole rat which is basically if rodents decided to become an ant colony.
Like humans are rare enough there's a fair amount of misinformation but well known enough to not truly fuck up stuff, there's enough species and habits overlap to not infringe too heavily on things in terms of quality of life (there are a few species that have periods and that are as intensely omnivorous- a surprisingly huge overlap between human diets and most scavengers especially with how both can eat fermented foods, mushrooms and cheeses) but due to few numbers and the social view of humans being adorable and wanted you do get a fair amount of coddling and people keep track of em especially since dwindling population due to humans being absorbed into most lineages.
Of course, the beauty of your Nonhuman AU is that it's open to interpretation
There's multiple versions of Epel, from small bird harpy to bunny epel, or Riddle, bunny Riddle or hedgehog Riddle.
There's Owl Rook and then there's Deer Rook who leans into how rook is still an oddball that worries people and also deer are goofy and do very much eat protein when given the opportunity so y'know, cue how rook despite being a species that wouldn't normally keep pace with the other species but still does and does it really really well like canon human Rook.
It's fun either way
Ooooh that's a lot of good stuff.
It's really fun to think about how the world and society would work. I think I remember talking about how even fancy restaurants would have booster seats for those that happen to be smol since there are a lot of smol beasts out there.
The human instinct of "explore and make friends of some kind" are probably a part of how humans are still around. They're just so good at managing to "domesticate" beasts that would have wanted to eat them otherwise, so they want to keep them instead. Keep cute friend that's so good at grooming and making things.
But yeah, not having things set in stone really opens a lot of possibilities for fun things to do with this world. It's fun to switch around what the twst cast would be and through around idea's.
