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bookwyrmbutch · 7 months ago

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First Time on The Land

It is an eight hour drive to the Land, and I’m anxious the entire way. I’ve never liked meeting new people, and I’m terrified that my wife and I had wasted a ton of money on what would inevitably be a miserable experience.

But when we arrive at the gate, my anxiety is thwarted by a parade of helpful womyn who guide us through the check-in process. I drive through the Land at 5 miles per hour, and wherever we look, there are womyn. They're busy unpacking or talking to one another, but when a car comes by they all wave and smile, shouting "welcome home!" The Land itself is beautiful, a pristine forest with a blanket of ferns covering the ground. Everything is green except the asphalt walking path that shimmers with leftover rain. As we get further in, tents pop up everywhere, nestled side by side. Plastic flowers are staked into the ground, and clotheslines strung between the trees bear Pride flags and handmade tapestries that flutter in the breeze. All of this is woven so seamlessly into the natural forest that I can’t quite believe it’s temporary.

There is an opening ceremony before the first concert. A womyn stands onstage and sings, and hundreds of womyn join her. “I am open, and I am willing, for to be hopeless would seem so strange. It dishonors those who go before us, so lift me up to the winds of change.” I am already crying and I know if I lift my voice with them that I will sob, so I keep my head down.. I’m not ready to be open.

The next day we wake up to a choir of women singing in the morning chant circle, and BMG starts in earnest. Womyn of all backgrounds volunteer to share their knowledge in participant-led workshops on writing, poetry, drumming, quilting, whaling, massage, salsa dancing, indigo dyeing, lesbian history, Nordic runes, plant identification, body painting, detransition, butch identity, and more. There is an archery range, a movie tent, and a large vendor space where womyn sell their wares. Shuttles driven by volunteers trundle up and down the dirt path, ferrying womyn across the land. The days pass in a flurry of activity, both of us exhausted but unwilling to rest. We try to do everything, much to the amusement of the older lesbians watching. They know what we don’t, which is that being here is enough of an event by itself, and the conversations we’ll have before and after these workshops are as valuable as the workshops themselves.

I’m continuously stunned by the generosity on display. One womyn cooks breakfast for two hundred, and another makes lunch the next day. We overhear a womyn give a stranger her spare air mattress. My wife tells me she has a headache and a passerby gives her an electrolyte packet and an apple. A woman offers me a comically huge blunt during a night concert, and another shows me where she stores her food when I compliment her ciabatta. Everywhere we go, womyn stop to talk. In workshops, I stand up (tits out!) and speak my mind, and womyn listen. I smile at everyone and say “good morning” to whoever I pass. And at some point I notice... I’m not anxious. I’m talking to strangers all day and it feels wonderful.

At the closing ceremony a womyn sings to us again, and everyone joins her. “I am open, and I am willing…” This time, I’m able to join in on the second chorus.

Sunday is bittersweet. My wife and I wake up early and cry into our oatmeal. We decide to take a walk before going back to our tent, unable to face packing up. I could sense the fear - absent for five glorious days - waiting for me outside the gates. Once we’re all cried out, practicality takes over and we pack our things, load the car, and head out.

Two womyn stop us at the gate.

“Are y’all coming back next year?” one asks. We say yes.

“Good, because I know your faces now!"

The other pipes up, “Faces? I’m going by breasts!”

The knot in my chest loosens as I laugh, and we drive home.

We have our wristbands, our sunburns, and a new labrys necklace. We carry a warmth, a brightness, in our chests. But a few days in, the feeling disappears and I can feel my walls going up again. That unconscious tension in my gut. A week after re-entry, my bruise from archery fades, and with it the feeling of being on the Land that I could once call up so easily just by taking an extra-hot shower, or a long walk outside. Now as I write this, I can hardly remember the person I was this summer. She’s waiting inside me to make her appearance again.

There are times I feel her stirring: when I connect with other womyn like me. When I feel grounded and at peace with myself. And sometimes I can feel her revolting when I try to duck back under the yoke of other people’s expectations. I’ve seen what life can be like without that now, and I can never really go back. It feels like there will always be a part of me waiting under the trees.

Thank you @nansheonearth for challenging me to write about my experience on the Land, and for helping me find it in the first place.

#i'm also working on a poem !#txt #writing #bmg 2024 #womyn's land #cowritten with my wife <3

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rippleclan · 3 months ago

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RippleClan: Moon 91, Part 1

As Wildclaw moves on from grieving Clammask, she and Rattlepelt go for a walk together.

[Image ID: Rattlepelt and Wildclaw approach two black newborns. Under the leftmost kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: VALLEYKIT, 0, MALE, QUIET. Under the rightmost, smoky kit, it reads NEW PLAYER: MIDNIGHTKIT, 0, MALE, POLITE. Under Wildclaw, it reads - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

Rattlepelt typically despised winter. The snow was beautiful, Longest Night was lovely, and she always purred when kits played in the snow. But her Clanmates had fur. They could handle the cold. The winter wind didn't sting their bodies and quickly numb their limbs. They could safely leave camp! Meanwhile, Rattlepelt stayed huddled in the artisan's den, tucked under extra leather pelts while she, Rabbitjoy, and Frostpaw fixed baskets.

The artisan's den was packed with supplies and tools; leather wraps for managing hot stoves, drums, dry ferns and grass for basket weaving, and more. All those supplies trapped heat within the rocks and brambles. There was just enough work for the three artisans to sit and do their work.

"Trust your claws," Rabbitjoy said as Frostpaw pulled twine through the stakes of her basket, weaving it back and forth. "Your claws are made to snag material like this. Let them hook the twine and treat it as an extension of your paw."

"My wrist keeps getting stuck," Frostpaw muttered. She tried to hook her paw around the next stake, but since she was repairing a hole in the side of the basket, her paw had little room to move. The twine kept slipping off Frostpaw's claws in her effort to pull it through without breaking the basket further.

"Repairing a basket is harder than weaving it from scratch," Rabbitjoy assured her. "Don't worry if you can't make it tight. Try your best."

"How do humans do this?" Frostpaw groaned as she finally pulled her thread back around.

"Malformed paws," Rattlepelt explained with a chuckle, tying off the broken base of her basket. She waved her paw, flexing her pads. "Their paws are flexible and good at crafts, but they barely feel a thing."

"They also don't have claws!" Gingerpaw suddenly stuck his big fluffy head into the aritsan's den, his maple seed necklace bouncing on his chest. Estherfern lingered behind him with a bundle of bark, but her apprentice was ignorant to his mentor's shoving. "They just have hard rocks on top of their paws!"

"Gingerpaw, go away!" Frostpaw whined. "We're working! Don't eavesdrop!" Estherfern finally knocked Gingerpaw away from the artisan's den and back to his chores. As Gingerpaw walked off, laughing, Frostpaw groaned and threw her paws over her ears. "I hate him sometimes!"

"He's just being silly," Rabbitjoy said, patting Frostpaw's back. Rattlepelt placed her repaired basket against the den wall. As she stretched her front legs, Wildclaw peeked into the den. Her amber eyes seemed brighter than they had in a few moons.

"Rattlepelt, come outside!" Wildclaw chirped. "It's finally a bit warm. I want to go on a walk."

"I should really help Rabbitjoy finish the basket repairs," Rattlepelt chuckled, snatching loose twine in her claws.

"You've been trapped in camp for ages," Rabbitjoy scoffed. "If it's warm, go outside! We only have one other basket to repair. Frostpaw and I can fix it." Rabbitjoy rolled the remnants of a broken basket toward her. Wildclaw kneaded the sand, eyes glowing. Rattlepelt purred. It was hard to resist that face.

"Let's go, then," Rattlepelt sighed, fixing her lavender-lined fox pelt onto her back. Frostpaw grumbled under her breath as she searched for fresh twine and Rattlepelt joined Wildclaw outside of the artisan's den.

Wildclaw was right; it was so unseasonably warm that the Clan didn't need a bonfire in the center of camp. Snow clung in piles along the dark and cool corners of the rocks and wood, but RippleClan could once again relax against the cool sand of their home. The land beyond camp was no longer white and brown, but a strange, gray-tinted mixture of tan and green. Though Rattlepelt's skin still danced under the soft chill, it was a pleasurable chill. It was a fool's spring, the sort that RippleClan would usually take full advantage of.

But RippleClan was not, in fact, taking advantage of the good weather. Instead, Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, Ravenweaver, and Trumpetspore hovered around the medicine den. They quietly shared tongues and muttered soft encouragement. Some of their friends and mates (Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, Brightreed, Scaleripple) comforted them, glancing into the shadows of the medicine den and quickly looking away.

"It's Mosspounce," Wildclaw sighed when she noticed her mate's confused look. "Honeybuzz just told his daughters. The infection is getting bad. They aren't sure how much longer he has."

"Should we visit?" Rattlepelt gulped.

"Later," Wildclaw quietly promised, heading for the camp exit. "The walk might give me time to think of what to say." Rattlepelt watched as Honeybuzz trailed out of the medicine den, merging into the small crowd. Trumpetspore scrambled into the medicine den as Honeybuzz spoke softly to Wolfgaze, Weevilsight, and Ravenweaver. Rattlepelt dipped her head, allowing her fox pelt to cover her eyes. She ignored the rest of the Clan and pressed into the false spring.

The birds hesistantly tested the warm weather, chirping their questions to one another, as though their fellow feathered friends could provide an answer. The mid-morning light offered the land a chance to stretch and feed itself before the explosion of frost and snow that would mark the remainder of the year. Twigs and branches, reminders of summer's rich foliage, rubbed against Rattlepelt's fox pelt. Her paws sank into the wet earth. Wildclaw strolled beside her, quiet, her ever-present guardian.

The silence stretched on for longer than Rattlepelt expected. The pair journeyed deeper into the forest, simply basking in the light. At one point, they spotted Tallowheart and Splashtuft, going over a few tales. Wildclaw raised her tail in greeting and passed them by. The two mates wandered over boulders and roots. All the while, Rattlepelt thought and thought and thought.

A twig snapped deep within the trees. Rattlepelt froze, eyes locking on the sound. A great buck stared at Rattlepelt and Wildclaw. Its magnificent crown of antlers snagged leaves that refused to fall from their trees despite the pressure of snow and time. Its brown coat blended into the forest. It flicked a round ear at Rattlepelt, blinking thoughtlessly.

"Wonder if it thinks you're a cat or a fox," Wildclaw hummed. The buck slowly lost interest in the two cats. It bent back down and chewed on a twig just beginning to bud, tricked by the heatwave. Rattlepelt took a deep breath. Her chest still hurt from the shock.

"We should go home," Rattlepelt suddenly said.

"What?" Wildclaw scoffed. "We're barely past mid-morning. Why turn back now?" Rattlepelt couldn't answer her mate. Did she even have an answer?

"Do you ever have a feeling that something bad is about to happen?" Rattlepelt asked. She jumped onto a large, mossy rock and spun in circles, trying to get comfortable among the limp leaves.

"Define 'something bad' for me," Wildclaw said. She joined Rattlepelt on top of the rock.

"We've had a lot of good in our lives lately," Rattlepelt groaned. "You've been a great mother to the toms."

"Now that I don't have a death wish anymore?" Wildclaw chuckled.

"You still get into some good scraps," Rattlepelt hummed, gently bunting her mate. "No, I just mean that even with… what happened with Lemmy, the two of us, we've been alright."

"Don't tell the rest of the Clan this," Wildclaw muttered, batting at the wet leaves under her, "but I get where Lemmy came from with killing Achilles and everything. It all spun out of control for her. I feel bad for her, even if she killed our Clanmates."

"It just makes me think," Rattlepelt groaned, "is it our turn next? When am I going to suffer some major loss again?"

"What do you mean?"

"When will tragedy strike the ones I love? Will one of my moms die? Will something happen to Shrewflame, or Whitepaw?" Rattlepelt pulled her fox pelt off. She was almost panting under its heat. "I feel like something's standing right behind me. Like I'm going to ruin everything."

"Is this about the Shardling? We keep telling you that wasn't your fault. It's not like you wanted to be possessed."

"It still happened, Wildclaw. It nearly broke me. Something's telling me that it will happen again. I know I sound crazy—"

"You don't sound crazy." Wildclaw leaned against Rattlepelt. "It's been a hard few moons. You've been stuck in camp. You're stressed. Why do you think I wanted to go on a walk with you?" Rattlepelt sighed. She forced the ripping, anxious itch in her chest out with her breath.

"You're right, you're right," Rattlepelt groaned.

"I always am," Wildclaw chirped.

"Don't gloat," Rattlepelt chuckled, shoving Wildclaw's muzzle down. Rattlepelt dragged her fox pelt back over her sensitive skin as a breeze made the bare branches dance. Rattlepelt could still smell the deer on the wind, but she smelled something else too, something pungent and stranger than any deer.

"Humans?" Wildclaw muttered, tasting the air. "Oh, those are definetely humans. Yuck." Wildclaw sneered at the smell.

"I hope they aren't setting more traps," Rattlepelt gulped. "Frostpaw almost stepped in one last moon!"

"Let's see if they are," Wildclaw suggested, hopping off the rock. "Keep low, alright?" Rattlepelt nodded. She and Wildclaw crept through the twigs and leaves, letting their noses lead them closer to where the WheatClan and AshClan borders met. As they pushed deeper into the forest, the humans soon became audible. There were two of them, with gangly meows that wavered in pitch. Rattlepelt kept low, the tail of her fox pelt dragging on the undergrowth. Wildclaw, nimble as ever, slipped silently closer to the noisy humans.

The two humans stomped around the corner of the three Clans. They were young from their size, with the tight-fitting leathers that typically marked males. Rattlepelt marveled at the leather's bright colors and strange patterns, unlike anything artisans could achieve. The smaller of the two held his front limbs close to his chest, keeping two small forms steady while his taller friend followed and yowled.

"I've never seen humans fight each other," Wildclaw muttered as the smaller human hissed at his companion. The black masses resting in the human's embrace shifted. Tiny mews broke through the human screeching. Rattlepelt held her breath when two sets of baby blue eyes peeled over the leather. The small human had two black kits!

The storyteller in Rattlepelt imagined what the humans could be doing. Were they yowling about the kits? Who were the kits? Did the humans take them from their mother? Did they even know their mother? Rattlepelt's anxieties slipped away, overshadowed by overwhelming curiosity focused on the strange unknowable creatures called humans.

The small human suddenly made a quick, snappy hiss at his companion. His strange eyes focused on the undergrowth… the undergrowth where Rattlepelt and Wildclaw lurked. The pair stayed utterly still, eyes locked on the smaller human. The small human slowly crouched, still staring at the two mollies. He made a soft, mouse-like chirp that drew all of Rattlepelt's attention. It made her stomach growl, as though she spotted a mouse shuffling through the leaves. Her ears turned straight on to the human. Rattlepelt caught herself before she slipped a paw out of her hiding spot. Whatever strange magic the human was wielding, Rattlepelt could not give in!

The human continued making that alluring sound as he carefully placed the two kittens on the ground. They couldn't have been more than half a moon old. The kits crawled on top of each other, stunned by the sudden lack of warmth. The human crept back like a hunter. He crouched at the side of a tree fox-lengths away from the kits.

"Is this some type of trap?" Rattlepelt asked.

"What kind of trap uses kits?" Wildclaw muttered. "I think… they want us to take the kits."

"I thought humans loved kittens."

"Maybe they don't want to take care of them."

"So they leave them in the forest? How cruel."

"But they aren't, they see us. I think they're looking for Clan cats." Did the humans know about the Clans? Did they know about RippleClan?

The tall human snapped at his smaller friend and grabbed his shoulder. The human spun and shoved him off, sneering. They yipped and growled at each other, with their mangled paws waving wildly at the kits. Rattlepelt steadied her jaw. She crept out of the undergrowth. The nose of her fox pelt touched the light first. Wildclaw snuck alongside her. The humans no longer noticed them.

Rattlepelt snatched the scruff of the bulkier kit, a tom with a slight smoky pattern across his pelt. Wildclaw grabbed his brother, who looked nearly identical. As soon as they had a good hold of the kits, Wildclaw and Rattlepelt ran. The two humans startled, finally aware of what the cats were up to, but they had no chance of catching them.

Rattlepelt and Wildclaw only slowed down when the ocean peeked between the trees. They skidded up to a sandy beach and dropped the kits. Both toms were shockingly quiet, merely huffing at the sudden stop and trying to get their bearings. Rattlepelt panted hard. Wildclaw groaned, stretching her hind legs.

"Well," Wildclaw huffed, "I think we found your bad feeling." She waved a paw at the kits.

"You know this isn't what I meant," Rattlepelt muttered. She sat beside the two black kits. Her fox pelt slipped off from all that running. The tail floated on top of the kittens' heads. The bulky tom's permanently unsheathed claws snagged one of the dried lavender petals woven into the fur. So much like Shrewflame.

"I don't know about you," Wildclaw hummed, slipping next to her mate, "but this feels like one of those moments StarClan designs just for us." Wildclaw dipped her paw in front of the smaller black tom, who instinctively crawled to it. He latched his tiny muzzle onto Wildclaw's toe. "The next step seems pretty clear to me. Ready to be a mom again, Rattle?"

Wildclaw was right. The next step was very clear.

(Rattlepelt: 74, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Rabbitjoy: 127, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Frostpaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, strict, lover of stories)

(Gingerpaw: 7, male, cleric apprentice, childish, curious about humans, moss-ball hunter)

(Wildclaw: 83, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Midnightkit: 0, male, kit, polite)

(Valleykit: 0, male, kit, quiet)

Mosspounce died of an infected wound.

[Image ID: Ravenweaver, Trumpetspore, Washington, Wolfgaze, and Weevilsiht crowd around Mosspounce.]

---

"Lemmy better get here soon," Mosspounce muttered. His bandaged, sightless eyes gazed out of the medicine den. "She'll be… very upset if she misses this."

Mosspounce laid in the back of the medicine den, surrounded by his daughters and Trumpetspore. The other clerics all left the den, giving the family their privacy. Washington was still there, though; Mosspounce had insisted the old tom not leave. The glow of a yellow sunset dripped between the thin gaps in the wood, dappling Mosspounce's pelt. Trumpetspore practically laid in the nest with Mosspounce, curling around him. She whimpered as though he had already died. Whenever her voice rose to a cry, Weevilsight had to close her eyes and push back her sudden rage. She couldn't even think about her father. All she wanted was for her aunt to shut up.

When Mosspounce made his comment, Ravenweaver looked ready to join Trumpetspore in her pre-mature vigil. Wolfgaze's hazel eyes tightened. Weevilsight stuck her nose into Mosspounce's ear. For a moment, she was just a cleric again, checking on her sick patient. Mosspounce's ear burned.

"If she wanted to be here she wouldn't have…" Wolfgaze growled.

Wolfgaze bit her tongue, however, when Ravenweaver quietly snapped "She's still our mom, Wolf." Wolfgaze paced around the empty nests of the medicine den, keeping her supernatural gaze off her father. Ravenweaver crawled to the edge of Mosspounce's nest and rested her head by his sickly-smelling wounds. Her lavender crown fell onto Mosspounce's head. Mosspounce shifted just enough to nose Ravenweaver's forehead.

"Your old molly's just off hunting, Mossy," Washington suddenly coughed from his nest. "She's on her way." Mosspounce purred softly and groomed his daughter's head, unable to lift his own and properly share tongues. All the mollies in the den stared at the old gray tom.

"I don't know if we should lie to him, Washington," Wolfgaze muttered, squirming under Washington's wizened eye.

"He can't understand what's happening anymore," Weevilsight quietly explained. "He's too far gone."

"Don't say that, stop saying that," Trumpetspore whimpered. She buried her face in Mosspounce's back.

"It's happening, Trumpetspore!" Weevilsight suddenly hissed, the petals in her fur fluttering out as she turned to her grieving aunt. "And… and there's nothing else we can do for him." Weevilsight stepped back, forcing her sneer off her face as Trumpetspore wailed again. Trumpetspore clawed at the edge of Mosspounce's nest and shook so hard that Mosspounce moved as well. A painful buzz filled Weevilsight's chest and made her limbs ache. Her head burned with too many thoughts. There was nothing she could do. Not for Mosspounce, not for Lemmy. She was losing both of them in less than a moon.

"I'm not trying to intrude," Washington croaked, shaky paws pushing out from his nest, "but could you help me close to him?" Weevilsight took a while to move, even as Washington groaned under the simple yet mountainous effort of standing. Washington's groaning mixed with Trumpetspore's moans in a painful chorus that threatened to undo Weevilsight's remaining sanity. The tortoiseshell cleric slipped beside Washington and supported his large weight. With Weevilsight under him and his broken leg stiff and splinted at his side, Washington limped to Mosspounce's nest.

"You're a funny old flea-feast," Mosspounce whimpered as Washington fell next to him.

"I'm glad I could make you laugh," Washington purred, "even if we haven't known one another long." Washington set his paw against Mosspounce's shoulder. "I'm sorry to see you go. But this is a good death, in my eyes."

"A good death?" Wolfgaze huffed, marching in front of Washington. "What would be 'good' is if my father wasn't dying at all!"

"But he's dying with his family around him," Washington groaned, waving at the mollies crowded around Mosspounce. "That's more than many get."

"Hi again, Tempest," Mosspounce muttered, lifting his head slightly. "Have you met my mollies? They're good kits." Weevilsight's paws inched toward the exit. She needed to stay, she had to stay, yet her body pushed her outside. Still, she stayed long enough to catch her father's last words.

"Lemmy and I made some good, good kits…"

(Mosspounce: 52, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

(Trumpetspore: 52, female, warrior, nervous, makes the best pottery, good storyteller)

(Weevilsight: 26, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Wolfgaze: 26, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

(Ravenweaver: 26, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

(Washington: 219, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

Mitespark and Wolverineheart have grown closer over time, relying on one another through the recent chaos. They decide to become mates. Wolverineheart’s littermates celebrate with the pair.

[Image ID: Mitespark speaks with Wolverineheart while Boughfur, Thundergale, and Brightreed stand behind their sister in support. Under Mitespark, it says + MATE: WOLVERINEHEART. Under Wolverineheart, it says + MATE: MITESPARK.]

(Mitespark: 33, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Wolverineheart: 23, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Boughfur: 23, female, historian, righteous, great climber)

(Thundergale: 23, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

(Brightreed: 23, female, warrior, righteous, student of art)

Moontide and Cobaltchaser don't move in time to avoid a large fir tree falling right on top of them. A patrol doesn't find them until they've both moved on to StarClan.

[Image ID: Moontide and Cobaltchaser are both StarClan spirits. Moontide says, "We need to see our sisters."]

(Moontide: 26, female, teacher, playful, excellent teacher)

(Cobaltchaser: 21, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)

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hiraethwa · 9 months ago

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halloo, could i request a peony and fern (the alchemy) with an athlete reader bouquet for kiyoomi sakusa?? Tysm!!! :3

thank you for requesting a bouquet!

a/n: i love athlete reader an ungodly amount!

visit the hq flower truck or the library

/⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 in progress—picking a bouquet of peonies and fern.

cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

like clockwork, you step out of the showers in the locker room when your playlist ends, methodically drying your body, then your hair. you slide the silver band onto your middle finger on your left hand, one that sat in your shoebox for a few years — the promise rings that kiyoomi had custom ordered in high school.

you pull on your clothes, fasten the ring holder necklace behind your neck. slipping the other ring off the holder, you slide the gold band back where it belongs, right next to the silver one on your ring finger.

kiyoomi is already waiting by the time you get out into the lobby of the sports complex, like clockwork. he has a sweet pastry in a brown paper bag, as he always does, though it is a different one each time. to keep the flavors on rotation, he would tell you.

today, he has a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in his other hand, his face covered by a mask. he pulls it down briefly, pressing a kiss to your lips before tugging it back in place.

“happy anniversary, my love,�� his eyes are twinkling, expressing a thousand things in the language that only you know.

you beam back at him, feeling a little cheeky, “which one? our first or second one?”

his eyes shift, lids dropping just the slightest bit, and you could just tell he is pouting behind the mask at your teasing in reference to the two anniversaries you have—one when you first dated in high school and decided to go your separate ways halfway through college, second when you reconnected in your professional lives, finding that despite the years that had passed, you were still each other’s lost love. relearning each other’s habits and preferences, testing out that rusty language that was always on the tip of your tongues, but no one else seemed to be able to speak it.

“shut up,” he looks away from you, still flustered by your teasing after all these years.

“you love me, husband,” you lace your fingers through his, pulling him out of the building giddily like a pair of newlyweds, as if you have not been married for a few years now.

“you’re lucky i do,” he side eyes you as if you’re not the person he loves the most in the whole wide world.

you hum in response, pressing your face against the fabric of his mask like an overgrown house cat, preening. “of course, i am the luckiest woman in the universe.”

.delivering bouquet to sakusa kiyoomi—sent! ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩/

#hiraethwa's hq flower truck event #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #hq #sakusa kiyoomi #hiraethwa writes

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alien-magnolia · 1 year ago

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Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

#liz’s masterlist #avatar smut #quaritch smut #jake sully x fem!reader #quaritch x reader #quaritch x oc #quaritch x y/n #dom!quaritch #dom!jake sully #avatar sully quaritch x you #jake sully fluff #jake sully smut #dilf jake sully #dilf quaritch #liz writes 🖤

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fern-funtime · 11 months ago

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| True Blue | ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

wc: 1,089

pairing: Navia x fem! reader

warnings: a little sad, beautiful gay women <3

an: this is kinda bad. i had major writer's block but i started it so i had to finish it, i hope it's good enough to read. oh and happy pride month everyone ･ ͜ʖ ･ -Fern xo ♡

To say you were upset was an understatement, the girl you were in love with was a few feet away from you with a man. A man who was confessing his love.

A man you didn't even know. He gave her flowers and a very expensive necklace, the blue stones matched her eyes perfectly. Jealousy is a very strong emotion and it was overwhelming you by now. All you wanted to do was leave and rot in your bed but you didn't want to leave her, you guys were in the middle of a conversation. It was awkward, you shift in your spot and try to pay them no mind but you feel hurt. You think about how happy she looks, how beautiful.

After a few more minutes she comes back with a big smile.

"Did you see all that?" She laughs while awkwardly holding the bouquet. You gave her a fake smile

"Yeah." you try to be happy for her.

She sighs and plays with her necklace. "Isn't he charming." you feel your heart break slightly. "He seems nice." your words come out less emotional than you wanted. "Are you okay?" she asks softly.

"I don't think I'm feeling well." in response to this she moves her hand to your forehead. "You are kind of warm, you should get some rest."

You smile at her and say goodbye, but not before she gives you a big hug. All you can smell is her perfume and the vibrant roses she was gifted. "I hope you feel better Y/n." she spoke with sincere words.

You felt so guilty for being mad when she's so kind to you. You were now in bed doing exactly what you wanted earlier. You had been crying, your eyes are puffy and your heart is melting into the bed with the rest of your body. How could she ever love you. He doesn't deserve her yet you certainly don't. Maybe he's the love of her life, she'll be happy with him.

Happier than she would have with you.

You didn't even notice you tell asleep until a knock wakes you up. You notice it's now night and you can feel the dried tears on your cheeks. You slowly get up and groggily walk to the door. You open the door and you're met with Navia. She's holding a container and a bag of her belongings. She gives you a big smile and you move aside and let her in.

She walks in and places her stuff down "How are you feeling?" you watch her as she puts her stuff down.

It's muscle memory at this point, there's never a week where she doesn't come over and spend the night at least once.

You didn't even notice you fell asleep until a knock wakes you up. You notice it's now night and you can feel the dried tears on your cheeks. You slowly get up and groggily walk to the door. You open the door and you're met with Navia. She's holding a container and a bag of her belongings. She gives you a big smile and you move aside and let her in.

She walks in and places her stuff down "How are you feeling?" you watch her as she puts her stuff down.

It's muscle memory at this point, there's never a week where she doesn't come over and spend the night at least once.

"Better." you smile at her. A genuine smile this time, you're really happy to be with her right now even if its not in the way you want.

"I made you soup, it's my dads recipe." She grabs a bowl and a spoon. You watch her while she does this and you noticed her necklace was gone. "Where's the necklace that guy gave you?"

She lets out a laugh before saying "I gave it back to him, I didn't say it in the moment because I was flustered but...I have my eyes on someone else." She glances your way before putting the soup in the bowl.

Her eyes lingered for a second longer and you swore the whole world stopped. Confusion was evident on your face and you looked away and tried to wonder who she really liked. 'Me?' you thought before you were snapped out of your mind when she plopped down next to you, rather close too. She handed you the soup and you take in the smell. It smelled like home. "This always makes me feel better when I'm sick."

Instead of smiling you frown at her "I need to tell you something. I wasn't sick...I was mad." She furrows her brows "Did I do something?"

Now you feel really guilty, you made her sad. "No- no of course not, I was...I was jealous of him." you look to the ground. Your nerves had finally set in, you realized you just confessed to her. She thinks for a moment confused until she finally spoke. "You were...jealous of him giving me flowers?"

"You looked really happy...I want to make you happy like he did." You voice faltered a bit and your heart beat picked up faster and you were quite literally freaking out. As soon as you turned to apologize she pulled you into a kiss. It was only a peck as she pulled away quickly. "I am so sorry! I didn't know what I-" you kissed her.

You gave her a proper kiss. And she kissed you back. After putting the soup on your bedside table you both go back to each other's lips. You wrap your arm around her neck and she puts a hand on your waist. You pull away and look at each other for a second. She laughs, and you swear it is the most beautiful thing you have seen. "Have you liked me all this time?" she said in between giggles. "Oh my god. We could have been together all this time."

You start to laugh now before hugging her. "I thought you were into guys!" "Are you saying I don't give off sapphic energy!?" She laughs into your shoulder.

"I thought about it but I wasn't sure I've only seen you with guys." She kissed you on the cheek and you're heart almost explodes. "I love women too, and I love you."

"I love you too." You bring her back into a sweet kiss. "Can you please try the soup now, I worked hard on it." She fakes a pout before grabbing the bowl.

#fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #fluff #navia #navia x reader #sapphic

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a-whispering-echo · 4 months ago

Note

Hello, hi. I am here with a very fun specific question for Forgotten City

Because well, I was rereading it to make notes for these funky lil guys and their appearances (for no reason, don't worry about it, but I do kinda need an answer)

And I'm either blind or there isn't any mention of what Killer's clothes are or if he even has clothes

We obviously have Dusts seeing as... well, there is an illustration, and Horror had the description of heavy leathers and scales and layers, and all Killer has is, well, sharp

But yeah, I'm here to maybe possibly hopefully get an answer to my is Killer just silly spidering around with his bones and fucked up joints on full display

(...It would be funny if that's why he was laughing at Cross and his attempts at privacy..)

HELLO HELLO! YES I HAVE REFS! hajdhhal

(im currentl in the WORST stump of art rn and NOTHING is coming out how i want, so i HOPE this is PASSABLE, yk?)

He wears a red leather tunic - tunic from stoneborers skin, and dyed red with beetles! his bottoms are also leather, from the same creature, but dyed with coal and charred bones to get the black colour!

his belt was used to hold his tools to care for the gospum-tagul, a small rodent creature that the city dwellers used to farm for wool! that was his job! he loved them! the dye in that beige/light brown colour comes from boiling a kind of moss found in the caves, mixed with raw materials they find in the mines, like clay and dirt

the spikes on his clothing are metal, and were put there for his furry rodent friends to grip and climb on him when he was working, gave them something to grip onto while he moved, so they could stay closer to him!

Gospum-tagul eat a type fern called the Songsun fern, which makes 'music' when wind passes through it, as well as some types of hay and such like. Killer used to put these ferns all over his body when he fond them, so his friends could find them and take a nibble when they liked!

the teeth on his necklaces and such are from battles, because while he was an animal farmer, he also was a warrior, him and Horror both. they protected Dust in their life, kept him safe. they did they job well, and paid the price.

after his death, Dust removed his belt to keep him safe from sharp objects when he was dying, but kept his jewellery in, and bandaged a wound on his arm. once he HAD died and had come back, he took his knives and tools back, and, finding he didnt know where else to put them, decided to just slot them between his ribs and such like. and then as time went on, he got a BIT of a hoarding problem with The Shineies, and just kept adding more and more sharp things, and WHOOPS now hes mostly just knife.

his tunic was ripped and a good portion of it was removed, but he kept the damn thing it looks more like a crop top nowadays, and occasionally, Dust will snatch him to try and sew it up a bit to last another few hundred years or so.

all the people who lived in the cave never worse shoes, to note! they had much tougher and sturdier bottoms of the feed and hands, adapted to climb at walls and stone, and never thought of them! so, no shoesies for the boys! Cross finds this out later, much to his much softer hands and feets horror hehe

yee! ill shut up now, lololol

#rue rambles #lore #undertale #undertale au #the forgotten city #forgotten city au #killer sans #human killer sans #...#semi human killer sans #feral man #lore drop #refs #thanl you for asking!#lettng me blab about the world and the boys!

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quosterswampdregs · 3 months ago

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Looks like Nolki won the fic poll! And funny enough, I actually have a 2-year-old fic about Nolki and two normal-sized canines that I realize I NEVER posted!! So here you all go, featuring Nolki, Kyle, and Morse: A camping trip goes wayward when one of them makes a discovery...

"Kyle!! You’ll never believe what I’ve found!”

An arctic fox came jogging out of the shrouded lodgepole pine forest, shrugging off his traveling backpack in favor of a metallic water bottle to press up to his maw. Morse, exhausted from his morning run, had stirred the restless dingo from his camping tent, who peered lazily at the canopy of lush greens and yellows. A proud mountain rested over the crowns of conifers, which all leaned towards the east in a lazy stretch, before stiffening out westward. Strange winds, warm winds, too.

Kyle, equipped in a simple tee and cargo shorts, pushed himself up fully after supporting his upper weight with his forearms. The dingo uttered to himself with great disinterest—what had his friend’s tail flying with great vigor behind him, anyway?

“Why bring it up if I won’t believe it?” Yawned Kyle to Morse, “what, you found another toad in your tent? Good morning, by the way.”

“No no no, I swear it’s more interesting than that, by a long shot!”

“Wh…whhyyy, are your pants covered in dirt? The sun’s barely up and you’ve gotten yourself into something.”

“Augh!!” Morse curled his upper lip and his large ears found their gravity. Kyle gave a start as he was suddenly taken by the wrist and dragged forward by his shorter friend, who was pawing through the dense foliage from the way he came. He still had his water bottle clenched in the leading hand, using it to nudge away stems of ferns and undergrowth. “It’s just gonna be easier if I show you!”

“H-hwuh?! Hey!! Wait!”

Easier, sure, but damn, nothing could have ever prepared Kyle for what sat before him. Only after sampling mouthfuls of forest leaves and branches from being dragged by the paw by little Morse, did Kyle stare forward, aghast with curiosity. In a secondary clearing, only ten minutes of a stride away was a large, chartreuse mass sitting proudly, tucked away neatly with surrounding foliage and trees. Two caverns, both exerting waves of warmth at uneven intervals, sat side by side; caverns by the likes of which Kyle had never seen before. Whatever this was, it seemed almost alive—fleshy, hued in a mossy green tone, and leaking with some sort of liquid that slickened the pinkening walls further back.

A sudden ripple of air combed past the gawking canid and the vulpine, drawing leaves from trees and ferns into the dark depths before them. All of the trees leaned in as if listening in for the gossip of the woods, before relaxing and pointing back to the sky—Kyle, transfixed, watched the leaves spill out lazily against the trembling walls.

“Alright…” Kyle fixed his shark-tooth necklace against his shirt, and Morse shouldered his hexagonal gold-wire glasses further on his face, “Morse, I dunno what the hell you found, but it’s cool…”

“What did I tell you!?” The arctic fox leaped at such a statement, rushing forward to one of the two caverns. It was about five feet in height, which meant that Morse could barely stand up fully once he clambered onto the fleshy surface that sank under his weight. He kept his ears down, as pointing them caused them to brush up against the ceiling.

“No ifs or hows or alsos, you’re just…! Going in?”

“I mean, sure…!” Morse’s voice echoed by the time his tail slipped in after and snuck into one of the trembling caverns, “I wanna know what’s back here!”

Well, peer pressure had its rules, did it not? Kyle was trying his best to speak logistics, but ironically, he was muttering them out as he hoisted himself into the slick, soft, and warm cavern after his friend. It was weird, very weird; to his touch, the ground sank, and the entrance of the cavern lost its solid composure, expanding once, twice, thrice…? And relaxing. Or at least, shrinking again. Thick, clear slime accumulated on the roof of the cave, and Kyle had to hunch down on his hands and knees to avoid touching most of it. His tail dragged along the base of the area around him, and at one point, a shuddering jolt made him flatten out on his stomach, winding himself completely.

“Yeesh, Morse, it looks like it narrows way up there!!” Kyle huffed in an attempt to catch his breath, seeing that the arctic fox crouched at a certain section with a dip, pinching off the way further—save for a one-foot-tall gap. Morse crouched, lifting his wagging tail that brushed against the slick walls, causing them to visually react and wrinkle away from the featherlight touches. Kyle stumbled uneasily while the floor began to move.

“Morse?”

“I think I could—ngh—squeeeeze in there if I really tried, looks roomy on the other side!”

Not that Kyle had any time to object before he was wiggling and thrashing, kicking his little paws as he tried to worm his way through the crevice offered by this strange cavern. Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden blast of air came from behind him, throwing him forward against his friend’s backside, who yipped with the accompaniment of a noise only comparable to a vacuum tube being shoved up to a latex balloon.

“Holy hell!!” Kyle shrieked and staggered back, watching Morse’s lower half writhe and kick with confusion. “Morse!! Morse, you good buddy?? What the—?!”

“Mmrggh! Mngghghhh!!”

“What??”

“Mmrkay!!”

“You’re good?” Kyle stammered, receiving a wagging tail in response. Talk about winds today, what on earth?! “-uhhhhh, well! Good. Lemme pull you out…”

Or at least, make an attempt to. His fur had slickened with the strange…mucus-like slime, so his grip wasn’t half the strength it could be. That, and well, telling by the thrashing and little kicks of desperation, he was pretty stuck either way. There was no way he could get him out, not like this.

“Hmm..we got rope back at camp…! I could try to pull you out that way…are you good with waiting like, twenty minutes?” He offered, receiving a noise of acknowledgment and a wagging tail. Kyle nodded—not quite sure why, given his friend couldn’t see him. “Don’t go anywhere!! Not that I think you will!”

Kyle fled from the cave, surprised by the warmth the outside world offered. As promised, he grabbed his bag from his tent, looking to the tree crowns with the two, brown mountains in the near distance.

Two? He swore there was only one before…one of them flicked, mountains don’t flick, Kyle’s ear flicked back as a natural response.

“Mnuhhh…?”

The sound was absolutely tremendous. Kyle wasn’t expecting it, but he watched in fear as flocks of birds fled from the crowns of pine trees. It was coming from whence the dingo came—a beast of some sorts? He took his defense kit with him, grabbing a stray leafy pine branch off of a tree as he bolted after it. Whatever it was, he couldn’t leave Morse stuck in a cave while that thing was roaming around.

“Hey!” He called in a deep bark, charging through the undergrowth with his pine-needle-twig in hand, “you leave my fr…?”

Nothing, just the flaring and trembling caverns before him, sat upon a row of pearly white teeth, green gums, and a tongue that slipped out past the front teeth to shove and lick against a thin but sturdy septum. The line of its septum was unmoving, allowing the skin of its nostrils to envelop the tip of its tongue, before both caverns—both nostrils, hastily flared and shrank, sniffling and snorting with massive irritation. Those weren’t caves, this was a nose that belonged to the steady, sturdy muzzle of some macro canid..! Kyle, quickly turning pink under his fur, took a few hasty steps back. If that was the case, Morse was in there!

“hhHehh..?! HhhHEH?! EHhhschhuhhw!!”

Barely having any time to react, a forceful sneeze caused Kyle to fall flat on his tail, misted over by a spray of warmth and moisture. It dispersed like a morning fog, leaving his fur standing on end.

“A-! Woah! Hey hey hey!!” Kyle attempted shakily, rushing forward to grab the Macro’s septum with both his paws. He gulped as peach-toned fur and thick whiskers led the way for the green eyes that lazily and tearfully fluttered open. “Easy big guy!! Don’t uhhh…! Don’t panic!!”

See, this wasn’t Kyle’s first encounter with macros; they tended to roam these areas, and Kyle had had a few close encounters with them…don’t ask. Or do, he just won’t tell.

“Udh…mnhHhgh??” uttered the macro, whose gaping nostrils flared to reveal poor Morse, his upper half still stuck, tail thrashing about with defiance. He had his feet planted though, which meant he had slipped out a little! His tail was wagging high, high enough to spark a light bulb in Kyle's head.

Oh, how incriminating this was, Kyle was blushing at the thought—if he could tickle the nose of this big guy, a good sneeze could set his friend free—not often would he get such an excuse to do this, but hey! When the opportunity strikes.

“Yeah, that’s my buddy. I’m gonna get him out, okay?”

He couldn’t tell if his tiny voice could even register, but Kyle stepped into the flaring nostril nonetheless. The twig in his hand was brushing feverishly along the responsive, trembling nasal walls, his tail coaxing against his inner septum with all of his strength and irritability.

“Hehh…h-h-hHdhk! Hhuhh?”

The sound was frantic and desperate, reverberating all around him in this tunnel of irritation. With his free, remaining hand, he held onto Morse by the base of his tail, guiding it to the tissue that had him pinned and stationary. It began to loosen as the nose flexed, and he was slowly slipping out against the suction he was bound to.

“Udh..hhuh…! HhHHUH- Hh-hhHUH!!”

“Please work…” wince Kyle, who braced for impact. He grit his teeth and pinned his ears in as much of a brace he could muster.

“Huh- hHUEESHHhhuhhw!!”

With enormous force, Kyle was launched out of one of the Macro’s nostrils, his arctic fox friend in tow. The two tumbled, end over end, and Morse was the first to sit up dizzily, coated in mucus and soggy leaves.

“Get down!!” Kyle hissed, grabbing Morse by the scruff and yanking them behind the bush as the Macro hazily stood to full height, towering hundreds of feet above the trees. Runny nose, lazy eyes, and a short, tucked tail. He rubbed his nose from above, wiping his palm on his chest fur with a bit of confusion. He likely didn’t even notice them, by the tells of it, given how he quietly and begrudgingly lumbered away.

“Morse…?” Whispered Kyle, laughing to himself with an exasperated face.

“Uh-huh…?” The fox was on the ground, staring up at the sky with shock.

“Remind me to second-guess things more, if you would?”

#nolki’s big nose #furquo #furry snz #snzblrmacro #macro micro snz #g/t snz

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