Petal Pathways

Rocky doesn’t tell Grace when they arrive to Erid which leads to a mix of confusion and cuteness overload when the anxious squishy space blob following Savior Rocky around like a shy pebble and signing things like “Hi-Hi!” “My. name. is. G-R-A-C-E” “nice. to. meet. you”.

A whole group of Eridian scientists hold back their coos as ‘pebble Grace’ signs the Eridian equivalent of “Bye-bye!” after every health check. Grace is none the wiser when the other Eridian besides Rocky and Adrian start to speak to him with a gentle lilt (think cooing and babytalk voices when they speak to him) thinking that Eridian must just be a little awkward about speaking to an alien for the first time, he struggled to find his footing a little the first time talking to Rocky so it makes since to him.

Thus ensures;

“Wow human Grace is a whole (number amount) heavier than last check up, someone is getting big and strong.”

“Human Grace is very very very brave human, injection will only last (small number amount)…and…all done! Good job human Grace! Grace must pick out prize.”

“Has human Grace had any owchies since last check up, there is medium sized scrap on human Grace leg? Did Human Grace get boo-boo from problem with Bio dome.”

It takes quite a bit of resistance not to make Grace’s bio dome a giant padded nursery for a delicate pebble and the argument to add more and more safety proofing is a never ending conversation. If Adrian is asked permission to build pebble gates around the shore and every possible cliff side again They will go insane. They once fired a lower level official for arguing the necessity of essentially adding a pebble monitor to every corner of the bio dome.

A many Eridian higher up officials don’t quite understand how savior Grace can be so smart and yet behave so child-like, thinking surely earth would not send a child on such a mission. However that logic goes out the window when they learn that Grace is only in his thirties(the Eridian equivalent to a 4 year old). This then leads to a major misunderstanding where many Eridians start to despise earth for sending a baby into space to die, Rocky lets the misunderstanding stand for a little longer than needed(still having mixed feelings about earth since they sent his best friend to die) before interviewing to explain the human life span.

Small bit of lore... Reader in this is not a doctor or nurse, he is an environmental services worker in the emergency department! He has become beloved around the ER by fixing the coffee machine and the printer. He also cleans the rooms, the spills, the biohazards. He's a night shift worker.

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Whatever had gone down in ER room 3, it wasn't pretty. The room had since been abandoned, the patient and the staff gone. And now you were here to clean it up. You snap on those long gloves that go up to your elbow, and you grab supplies off your cart

They never tell you what sort of injuries happen, to cause so much blood on the floor and bed and everywhere. You can only imagine what it must've been. There appears to be brain matter on the bed, and there's so much blood. Probably a gunshot wound, self-inflicted or otherwise, you note in the back of your head as you get to work.

The smell sucks, as it usually does. You've never been a fan of blood smells, which is ironic since you spend your nights cleaning it. Well, you prefer blood over vomit or other bodily fluids, at least for cleaning.

But something about tonight is different. Maybe it's the smell getting to you, thick and heady, coating the inside of your nose and mouth. You try to shrug it off, knowing that your shift is almost over. Of course, you can feel that ever-gnawing fuzziness crawling up your spinal cord and into your brain.

You sigh, because you know what it means. You're just usually a little better at pushing that particular side of you down until you're safe at home and in your apartment. You peel off your gloves, even though the room is only half cleaned. You fail to see that the nightshift attending is watching.

Your hands shake as you send a text to your own supervisor, saying you believe you're ill and need to go home. You shove your phone back in your pocket to wait for a response. Usually, they were lenient with letting you clock out early, if need be. Of course, you'd never tell them it was because you wanted to go home and be a baby.

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Jack had been hurrying back and forth between rooms. The ER wasn't particularly busy, but each case was severe. There were no small cuts or broken bones, every single case was gun shots, car accidents, everything horrible. He would've preferred a really busy day of small, non-fatal injuries.

He does a double take when he sees the young man cleaning room 3. It's not a pretty sight in there, and he's surprised they sent one of the young guys to clean. Usually on the really messy rooms, he requests the vets. The ones who have been cleaning disgusting trauma rooms for years.

"Hey kid.", Jack says, stepping into the trauma room behind you. He watches as you look up with wide eyes, like you'd been caught doing something wrong, and suppresses a smile. "You look a little out of it"

"Oh. Uh. Yeah, I guess." You reply, awkwardly. Your body feels too big for your mind, which is starting to feel small and meek. You feel your phone buzz, and you pull it out to check without thinking.

Jack raises an eyebrow, because he's not used to seeing people just use their phones in the ER. But then again, you're not a nurse. He watches carefully as your eyes scan the screen.

The text from your supervisor clears you to go home. You breathe out a sigh of relief, your mind getting a little more fuzzy as the prospect of going home settles into your brain and bones. The thought of lying in bed with cartoons and a binky permeating every desire.

Jack notices the look in your eyes, though he can't exactly place it. Your eyes are almost glazed over as you gather your cleaning supplies into your cart.

"Your shift over?" He asks, looking over the half-cleaned room. You nod silently, your big hands feeling clumsy as you shove away the cleaner bottle and rags. Jack once again notices the sort of strange behavior. He pulls out his pen light from his pocket, intending to check your eyes. To him, it appears you're showing an altered mental state, and it's a little concerning.

"W-what's with the light?" You ask, staring at him. His eyebrows furrow, hearing the way your voice is a little... small.

"You seem out of it. You hit your head recently?" He asks, following you as you start to push your cart back to the environmental services break room. He ignores the resident calling his name, favoring figuring out whatever's wrong with you.

You shake your head, and come to a stop in the breakroom, abandoning your cart by the wall. He grabs your shoulders to stop you in place and then holds you there.

You feel uncomfortable under the weight of his stare. It's almost like he knows, but he doesn't say anything to suggest that. It's just a fear you hold no matter what. The fear of people knowing you like to regress, to lay in bed with soft blankets and a binky, the fear of not being seen as the typical tough guy you are. Your lower lip wobbles slightly, and you can see the pieces click into place in his mind. You can see his eyes soften with the connection.

"Kid, you should go home." He says, worried. Jack knows, he's not stupid. He's familiar with regression. Hell, Robby complains to him when Whitaker has those breakdowns when he's regressed.

"I-I was gonna clock out.. early." you say, the words feeling foreign in your mouth. Often, you get slightly non-verbal or the words get jumbled.

"Yeah, I think you should." He says, but his hands don't leave your shoulders. He wants to ask about your behavior, but he doesn't know how. He's not sure how to confront something like that. "Get some sleep."

You nod, and with shaking hands and legs like a fawn, you grab our backpack and exit the ER. You count the lines on the sidewalk, to keep yourself present enough until you're actually home in your apartment.

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As soon as you disappear out the doors, Jack grabs his phone to text Robby. He takes care of Dennis when he's little, so surely, he would have advice for this.

Jack sighs, knowing he's going to check on the kid. He can't help it, he's always had a soft spot for all those little ducklings who start working the ER, doctors, nurses or otherwise.

The rest of the shift, which is only about another hour, passes slowly. He does the shift handoff, and Robby gives him a look as he shoves his hoodie on to leave.

"Got another little on our hands huh? Might have to open a daycare." Robby jokes behind Jack, who scoffs.

"Yeah. Now we got two whiners." He replies with a chuckle, even though they both knew Dennis was a good little boy when he was regressed. He slings his bag over his shoulder, and heads out to his truck. He already has your address, because he has everybody's address that works in the ER. (Robby calls him a weirdo, but he calls it protection) He starts the drive, which is only about 5 minutes from the ER, his fingers tapping anxiously on the wheel.

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You stumble into your apartment, and fuck, everything feels so bad. You can still smell the coppery scent of blood in your nose, from the trauma room you had to clean earlier. You drop your bag at the door and strip down to your boxers, immediately getting into the shower. It feels really too hard to stand, so you sit on the shower floor, letting the water fall over you.

You lean your forehead against the cool tile wall, and your thumb works its way into your mouth, a small soothing habit as you try to calm down after the day. Big fat tears roll down your cheeks as you try and use the typical soothing method. But it's not helping like it usually does.

You're so lost in your breakdown, you don't hear your door open. You just sob and wail on the shower floor. You want to go to your room, where you keep your box of little gear, but everything feels too big and it feels like you couldn't walk if you tried. You continue to suckle on your thumb, even though it's not helping.

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Jack had decided to enter your apartment, considering you hadn't answered when he knocked. He's met with a pile of clothes at the door, that he assumes means you undressed as soon as you got home.

But then the sounds hit him, loud sobs from deep inside the apartment, slightly muffled by the sound of a shower.

"Kiddo?" He calls out, hoping the nickname would help coax you out. He heard Robby call Witaker that during hard days. But still no response, just hearing the cries from down the hall. He walks down the hall, purposefully stomping a little to hopefully alert you, and he hears the cries get louder as he nears the bathroom door.

He pushes the door open, and there you are, sitting on the shower floor sobbing with your thumb half in your mouth. He softens up immediately, because he knows you're so little right now.

"Buddy... Why are you crying?" He asks, opening the shower door and crouching down so he's eye level with you.

You blink up at him with wide and teary eyes, the water now running cold since you've been sitting in there for so long. Your hands reach up to him, like a child reaching for his father. Your chest still heaves with sobs as he hikes you up off the floor, and basically drags you to your room.

He drops you onto the bed, even though you're still crying. He shushes you softly and starts to dry you off with a soft towel he snagged from the closet in the hall.

"Don't cry buddy. Don't cry." He mumbles as he efficiently wipes your legs and torso until your dry. "Where's your stuff? You got any stuffed animals? Blankets?"

You mumble some nonsense about a box under your bed, and hell, it's nearly impossible to understand what you're saying. He rummages around under your bed, finding an inconspicuous shoe box with a few star stickers on the outside. He opens it up to find a binky, and a bottle that probably hasn't been cleaned in months, based on the suspicious mold inside. There's also a small Superman lovey, where the small dolls cape is a blankie.

You cry harder when you see the items, the desperation for comfort filling every bone in your body. He gently presses the binky to your lips, and you immediately latch onto it desperately.

"Daddy." You mumble around the pacifier, and Jack nearly chokes up at the feeling in his chest. No wonder Robby gushes about taking care of Dennis. It feels great to take care of someone who needs you so bad.

"I'm gonna get clothes for you bub. Just relax for a bit, okay?" He says, looking over to the closet. He rummages around and is acutely aware of the lack of little clothes for times like this. He makes a note in the back of his head to purchase you some pajamas suited for a big little boy like you. He settles on a pair of comfortable sweats, and the softest shirt he can find, and walks back over to dress you.

"Help me out here pal. Arms up." He orders softly, working your arms into the t-shirt, and then the sweats. You're not crying so much anymore, the binky finally soothing you a little. You stare up at him as it bobs in your mouth, eyes wide and wonderous as you watch him so carefully.

He smiles down at you, his heart unbelievably soft at the sight of you. He's already made up his mind that he would always be your caregiver from here on out. He's planning play dates for you and Whitaker, to be little together while him and Robby care for you both. He sits down on the bed, and pulls you into his lap and cradles your head against his chest.

You make little mumbles and noises, too little to think of real words. He rubs his hand up and down your back as you finally start to fall asleep. He feels your breath even out and your body go limp, and he can't help but smile. In the morning, he can't wait to ask to be your caregiver. To take care of you permanently. He grabs his phone to text Robby.

And then it rained.

He dropped fast as rain pelted the windows, the ache in his bones setting in as the weather changed. His feet felt like heavy bricks that someone was trying to pound away at. His knee kept popping and his back cramped and his hips ached. It just hurt!!

He was sitting in the common room couch, definitely not pouting, when he came to the realization he wanted Mama. But Mama was so far away! And his feet hurt and the floor was cold and if he came out from under his blanket he'd just die! He knew it!!

He couldn't help it as whines escaped, squirming and writhing where he lie. He tried everything to get the pain to stop. He arched his feet and curled his legs and hunched over. But it hurt. It hurt and it hurt and the whines turned to sobs, chest hitching painfully with each breath.

The sobs were loud enough to draw attention and he curled into himself when he heard footsteps enter the room. He just wanted Mama, Mama would fix him.

Price was alarmed at the sound of sobs coming from the common room as he walked by. He redirected his attention towards the sound and came to the sight of a quite little Simon Riley. He sighed softly and sat on the edge of the couch, gently touching his arm.

"Little one," he cooed gently, brushing his hair back. "What's wrong?"

"Hurts." Simon sobbed harder at the site of Mama, immediately doing everything he could to get in his lap. "Hurts, Mama!"

Price clicked his tongue and pulled Simon in his lap. He should have known that the rain would get to him. He stood, blanket secure around him, and carried him oh so gently to his room. He helped him put on some socks for the aches in his feet and he laid him down on his stomach, something comfortable for his back and hips.

But Simon wasn't having it, wailing when he was out of Price's arms. Price was startled by the sudden noise. He didn't let it phase him though, sliding into the bed along Simon, holding him to his chest.

Simon tried to wrestle his shirt off, crying and scratching at himself as he did, the fabric overwhelming him. Price mumbled softly reassurances as he helped him slip off his shirt, quickly discarding his own.

He adjusted Simon to lay against his chest again and Simon melted at the skin-to-skin contact. His wails quieted down until all that was left were soft hiccups. Oh, his poor boy. Price hated seeing his baby in such pain. He held Simon until the boy was comfortable enough to slip the blanket back over. Safe to say he held him through the night too. Paperwork be damned, Simon needed him.

Since they are hybrids (basically just humans with animal traits), they aren't exactly like their animal counterpart, and it doesn't have to take place in any specific area, just somewhere snowy and/or cold.

If I get enough positive feedback, I'll make another one with a different theme of animals! <3

TW: Infantilization, platonic yanderes

Vanek — leopard seal dad

❄️ Vanek's species are solitary and highly territorial. He's never been close to anyone, not even in his own species. Family has never been a big deal for his kind, given that his species mature quickly and are on their own as soon as they are old enough.

❄️ But then, as he's hunting, he sees you. It isn't very often he sees humans up close; they're usually far away in the safety of their ships, and he doesn't pay them any mind. But you're different. You are small and you are alone, and he's curious.

❄️ It's rare he takes an interest in something that isn't food or a possible rival. And yet, he can't take his eyes off of you. Vanek doesn't really have much experience with any kind of love, so all these new feelings leave him confused.

❄️ All he knows for sure is it breaks his heart seeing you shivering in the cold, how weak and helpless you look against the harsh climate. Something primal in him tells him that you need protecting.

❄️ Unlike most of his kind, he builds a den, with lots of nice warm furs and other things he thinks you may need. A nice little home where he would raise his little pup to be strong and healthy. But first he had to go and retrieve said pup...

❄️ He's a massive man who towers over you, and his lack of communication and social skills definitely doesn't help.

❄️ "You can trust me! I would never harm my own pup." *Cue smile with bloodied razor sharp teeth, then sadness and confusion when you start cowering.*

❄️ His patience only goes so far before he drags you home.

❄️ He accidentally scares you a lot. If anyone else made you scared, he would have murdered them for it... but since it's him you're running away from he'll probably just sulk.

❄️ It'd take a lot of adapting from both of you.

❄️ "Did you know my kind don't like cuddling? They don't typically make warm fur nests like these either, even for their pups. I suppose I'm just kinder than they are. Now stop squirming away!"

❄️ "Please do not talk about leaving ever again. Papa will get sad if you do...."

❄️ He tries to mimic human expressions but gets them wrong half of the time. You'll also have to get used to his scary smile.

❄️ Genuinely will not hesitate to kill anyone/anything he perceives as a threat. The bloodlust and ruthlessness is an ingrained part of him.

❄️ When you start growing used to his company and less scared of him, he'll be over the moon. He does not get how personal space works and you can't even blink without him watching you.

❄️ He sings to you often, lots of songs that sound familiar to you, like nursery rhymes. His kind, despite being some of the loneliest creatures, sing somewhat often... And he's going to put those pipes to good use for his little baby! <3

❄️ Vanek has never had kindness shown to him, so if you show him any sort of affection, he short circuits a little bit.

❄️ Has to learn how to cook food for you because everything he eats is raw.

❄️ He allows you to leave the den, but only when he's watching over you. You're free to walk around outside with your hyperprotective leopard seal dad trailing closely behind.

💚🐾 Puppy Regressor Will Graham 🐾💚

I've never done a petre board before so this was actually super exciting to make! ^^ I hope you like it! Will is definitely a puppy 100% Just look at those big eyes! 🥺🩷🩷🩷

Imagine having a very no good day and throwing the biggest tantrum after holding in all your “bad” emotions for a long time. You expect your caregiver to get angry, punish you or leave you to cry, but they just sit with you as you throw your tantrum and when you’ve tired yourself out, they pick you up and coo softly over how fussy you are today.

They take a lot of naps, they like to snuggle up in bed, maybe put a show on, if its a really good day they'll do quiet activities like puzzles or coloring

Now meet caregiver who would love to watch over someone but doesn't feel they have the energy for it, like they can't keep up with a regressor who would want to go out always, want to do fun activities 24/7, they don't have that energy

But they have a lot of soft, gentle love in their heart, they know they could nurture someone, they would love to watch over someone and make the occasional sweet comment, or make them their favorite little snacks, or hold them oh so close so the both of them can truly rest