#jimmy and the forest animals

[hidden-poet]

Animal

Synopsis: After visiting a bathhouse Logan meets you, and the animal within him starts clawing out.

Warnings: not canon, dark!, non-con, a little bit of romantisation of things that should not be romanticized, kidnapping, Dark!logan(jimmy? james?), dom/sub vibes, spanking, female reader who is described quite a bit, rough sex, graphic sex, basically born with little plot, unedited and written in a couple of hours, dead dove to not eat.

AN: Something awoken within me. I never really cared for Wolverine, but suddenly I am binging all the movies. I don't really understand them so this will definitely not make sense to those who follow the fandom.

Word count: 12, 418

Logan walks through the city. People part as he storms through the path. Hearing the sound of his heavy boots as they thud against the concrete. 

If his large frame wasn’t enough to warn off people, his scowl was. He didn’t even know what city he was in. Xavier sends him off to eliminate out of control mutants. Given the urgency, he is often sent without a goodbye, let alone a debrief. 

He knew he was somewhere foreign. All the signs were in a different language with the english translation printed small underneath. 

One of them read ‘bathhouse’ in bright red neon sign. He looks at the dirt caked under his nails. The final battle with the latest mutant took place in the forest. 

He could feel small leaves in his hair, and dried mud clinging to his body. 

A nice, hot, relaxing bath may elevate some of the tension he always carried with him, so he walks up the steps into the large stone building. 

A lady in a robe greets him. The place is dark, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps. The front counter is placed in the entryway to the baths, and is sectioned by a large maroon colored wall that offers the men bathing privacy. 

“How can I help you?” the woman asks.

“I’d like a bath”, he responds. His eyes go to view the bath that beckons him. 

“Communal or private?”.

Logan looks around at the men in towels, lounging by the large pool. An elderly man takes off his towel to reveal nothing underneath, and steps into the steaming water. 

“Private”, Logan answers, “please”.

She gives him a sly smile, asking him to follow her. 

He is brought along the pool where men swam nude, and women who wore thick robes served them drinks, and cigars. 

At the back of the communal bathing area there was a long stretch of red doors that were numbered in large golden letters. He follows her to door seven

The woman knocks on the door once before turning back to logan. 

“Just through this door when you are ready”. With a sly smile she looks him up and down before returning to her hosting station. 

“Ah-yeah, thanks”, he comments. 

Muttering under his breath, he twists the door knob and takes a step inside, wanting nothing more than to wash away his adventure. 

His hand clinches the door knob, his claws begging to come out upon hearing someone on the other side. 

Had someone been following him? Another mutant, buddies with the one he had killed?

He lunges through the door, ready to face anyone willing. It startles him when he sees a young girl. 

Your hair was blown out to give it volume, and styled in an effortlessly curled way. Your dress was short and black. The halter neck tied together behind your long neck, and was cut down to the middle of your chest. The thin material only reached your upper thigh. Your lipstick was a dark red, matching your pointed shoes. You looked ready for a club, not a bath. 

You push yourself back into a chest of draws, surprised at his entrance. 

“shit”, Logan turns from you, training his eyes to the ground. It felt wrong to look at you. “Sorry, i was told to come in here”. 

“You were told correctly”, you state, “I am ready for you”. 

Your voice was low and seductive, making Logan hard under his jeans.

“Ready for me?” Logan questions. He feels his brows furrow, the sweat that he had accumulated started to run down his forehead. 

“This is a bathhouse”,you state, “You got a private room. You get bathed in private rooms”. 

You seemed as confused as he was. 

He looks at you stunned. His cock ached in his jeans to think of you bathing him. But you were young. Young, pretty, and naive. What were you doing here, giving baths to dirty old men like him. He couldn’t have it. Couldn’t be a part of it. 

His other side begged him to have a bath, and enjoy your touch, but he didn’t want to do anything that he would regret. The animal side of him was hard to contain. He was sure you would pull the wrong string, and the restraint he had built would come undone. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to bid you goodbye. All his will power went to turning back to the door. 

“Wait” you call out. He freezes immediately, and looks over his shoulder at you. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” you ask. His heart sunk at your question. He didn’t mean to offend you. 

“Am I not desirable enough for you?”, you continue. 

“God, no” he states, shutting the door firmly behind him as he turns. He didn’t want anyone passing to see you through the door. “No, you’re anything but undesirable”.

You blush but remain in your seductive composure. Your hand waves him forward, and his feet shuffle to your command. 

“Well then stay. If they see you walk out, i’ll get in trouble. Men start walking out of my bathhouse, and they might turf me”, you state. 

“Look, baby, I am just looking for a bath,” you eye the water so he continues to explain, “a bath alone. Without the help of a young woman, no matter how they look”.

“You don’t seem the nervous kind”, you provoke. 

“I ain’t” he defends. 

“How about this, I won’t look”. You spin around and face the wall, covering your eyes with your hand. “You can take a bath without my help, and I won’t get fired. Win, win”. 

He thinks about it. With you facing away, and not touching him, what harm could be done? He would be doing you a favor. 

“You sure you can restrain yourself?” he flirts. 

Your giggle echoes off the wall to his ear. 

“I am sure”.

Logan strips, leaving his clothes on the tiled floor, and entering the marble tub centered in the room. The water is steaming, and works to unknot his mussels. 

He moans as he sinks into the water. 

“Feel good?”, you ask. 

His cock twitches at your words. He struggles to keep his voice even as he answers. 

“Yeah”. 

“I am y/n”, you comment, bringing your hand down to face the red wall. 

“Is that your real name?”, he asks. He shouldn’t care what your real name was, but he did. 

“Yeah”, you respond. He listens for your heart beat as you answer. It never falters so it was the truth, or a lie that had become the truth. Either way it was good enough for him. 

“Logan”, he gives. 

“In town for business or pleasure, Logan?”, you ask. 

Your butt was three inches from the bottom of your dress. It curved around the material. Logan wanted to jump up from the water, and bite into it. 

“Business” he answered absentmindedly. He forces himself to look away and up to the ceiling. 

Your heartbeat was even. You weren’t scared of him. It comforted him to know. 

“What do you do?”. The question irked him. 

“Nothing good”, he spat. 

You let out a breathy laugh as if he had told a bad joke.

“Men who do ‘nothing good’ aren’t afraid of young women in bathhouses”, you jest. 

“Well I suppose I do bad things for a good cause”, he admits. 

Although it never felt like a good cause. Only some of the mutants he killed deserved it. Most of them were only confused and scared. They were too dangerous to be allowed a second chance at reasoning. Like a wild dog, they had to be put down. 

It would have made Logan feel better if he didn’t enjoy the fight. 

“What bad things for a good cause?”. 

Logan slides further into the water, trying to shield himself from your questioning. 

‘Is this a bathhouse or a police station?” he bit. His voice was hard, and carried a commanding tone that made your heart skip. 

He wanted to apologize, but you beat him to it. 

“I am sorry. I am not used to talking to the clients. I overstepped”,  you confess. 

 “Have you worked here long?”. 

He wanted to turn the attention back on you, but he chose the wrong path. The last thing he wanted to hear was you admitting to washing men.

The image of you bathing other old men angered him. His claws dug through the bones in his hand, itching to come to the surface. 

“A year”. It seemed like you were content in your workplace, but Logan fights to keep his claws under his skin. He splashed his hands under the water, worried that you would turn and see him in his mutated state. 

You shuffle slightly, angling yourself so you were always turned to him. You move off the wall, back over to the door. Logan watches you, his body shifting to hide himself if you decide to look. His member was hard under the clear water. He didn’t want you to think he was some sort of pervert. 

“Hey”, he calls, watching you move to pick up his clothes. Your hand shielded your eyes to him in the tub, “What are you doing?”. 

You separate his room key, wallet from his jean pocket and place them next to his shoes before picking up his clothes, and turning your back once more. Moving to the far wall where a washer and dryer were stored under a sink. 

“It’s part of the service. I wash your clothes for you”, you state. 

“Just leave them” he commands, “they are fine”.

You ignore him, throwing the clothes in the machine, and starting the cycle. 

“You’re paying for it”. 

You crouch in your high heels as you dispense the detergent into the washing machine on the floor before rising back up, but you don’t turn. Talking to him through the shared space rather than at him. 

“Do you mind if I sit at the vanity?”, you ask him. 

“No. Sit where you are comfortable”.

Your eyes train at the walls of the room as you slide along to the vanity set in the corner. You stop just before you get to the mirror, and kick off your heels so you could drag the seat with your foot over to you. You sat facing the wall like a child on time-out. 

He notices without your shoes, you were quite small. A small, pretty thing in a house of old men who wouldn’t need to be twice your size to overpower you. It didn’t sit right with logan. 

“So, how did you end up here?” he asks. 

“What this, a bath house or a police station”, you joke. 

He stifles a laugh. He didn’t mind a bit of cheek. 

“Fair enough’’, he relents, “Just tell me if any of these old guys ever caused you any trouble?”. 

Just as he claws retreat, they shoot back again. If your answer was yes, he was going to find out who, and where after his bath. 

But you shake your head no. 

“We have a button that calls for help. As soon as I get a bad feeling I press the button and they are thrown out”. 

You were intuitive like him. He wondered if it was a survival technique you were forced to pick up. He wanted to know why, but knew it was none of his business. 

Instead, he picks up a cloth and runs the cooling water over his skin. He was right, mud stuck to his chest hairs, along with dried blood. 

“You, uh, press that button a lot?” he pries. 

“Enough times to know when I should”. Your voice had lost its seductive tone as it hardened. 

“Maybe you should quit. Do something else”, he suggests. 

He would love for you to do something else. Something outside of harm's way. You were a grown woman who could decide what she wanted. He had no right to tell you what to do, but he wanted you to listen to him.

“Only one of us hates their job”. 

“You like this?”, his voice came out too angry. Your heart skipped another beat as he raised his voice at you. 

“You like touching dirty old men? Help them get off?”, he bites his tongue to the point of blood to stop himself talking to you this way.  

“No one gets off. I bathe them and send them on their way. Most of them are just lonely”.

“Lonely”, Logan scoffs, pushing the water away from him. But you were right. Logan was lonely. A dirty, old, lonely man wanting to taste your young flesh. 

How many other dirty, old, lonely men wanted to do the same? How many times would you be able to get to the button to press for help before it was too late? 

He wanted to protect you. To have his place in protecting you. Something about you drew him in. The animal called for him to throw you over his shoulder, and take you from his place in all his stark naked glory. But you were no one to him. He had only met you by mistake five minutes ago. 

Your heart rate was too fast. He had succeeded in scaring you. If his clothes weren’t washing, he was sure you would have kicked him out. 

He sighs, bringing his hands to the side of the tub. 

“Darl, I am sorry. I just hate to think of a pretty young thing like you here without anyone looking out for you”.

“I look out for me, Logan”, you declare. 

He nods his head, almost in disbelief. He rests the back of his head against the hard marble, causing the water to swish as he moves. 

“There’s shampoo on the caddy. You should wash your hair. I noticed that some of it was stuck together”, you comment. 

He was thrown across the forest floor just last night. He must have taken a harder hit than he realized. 

“I can do it if you want?”, you offer. 

“No. No. You stay right there” he demands. His hands itched to pull you in the bathtub with him. He wanted you to stay as far away as possible. 

As he squirts the small bottle of shampoo into his hands, the washing machine rings out a tune to signal it was done. 

“I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer” you declare. 

He watches as you move again over to the machine, and kneel to transfer the clothes into the dryer.  

Your bare feet make a nice sound against the tiles. Logan notices that your little toes were painted a dark red, and your fingers were perfectly shaped and painted the same color. 

He supposed a woman of your profession, maintenance was important. He pretended for a second that wasn’t the case. That instead, you were his little woman. 

He had come home after a long day of lumberjacking like he used to do, and you were fussing over him. The thought remained only for a second before he shook it off. 

Everyone he loved died. A little thing like you didn’t stand a chance in his life. 

“I hope you like the scent of vanilla”, you remark. 

He grunts in response, dipping under the water to wash the shampoo out of his hair. It felt lighter as a rose from the water. It was due for a good wash. 

He begins with a conditioner while he watches you lean against the counter of the sink instead of returning to your seat. His fingers dug into his scalp, pushing the liquid into his hair. 

“Do you have a girlfriend? Is that why you don’t want me to look?”, you ask. 

“No girlfriend. No wife. No dog”, he washes the soap from his hands, “I honestly didn’t know what I was signing up for”.

“Are you glad you signed up for it?”, your seductive tone returned from its disappearance. 

“The view has been nice”, he returns. 

“If you like my back, you should my front”. 

His hands curled into fists. If anything had been in his hands, it would have been snapped in two. 

“If i see your front, you might not see the light of day again”. 

His eyes shut in rhythm with your heart skipping. 

“Fuck. no. I didn’t mean” he began to justify but had nowhere to go. He had meant what he said, the way he said it. 

“All this talk of protection from dirty, old men. Did you mean you?”.

Your voice didn’t sound scared, but your heart beat faster than it had all night. 

Logan rises from the tub with conditioner still weighing down his hair. 

“Look, how long until my clothes are ready?”.

“Ten minutes”, you answer.  

He couldn’t wait ten minutes. He had to leave now.

“Just give them to me”, he demands. 

“There's still ten minutes”, you complain. 

“Give them to me, now!” his voice rose at you once more. 

You jump as he yelled at you, quickly moving to pull the wet clothes from the machine and throw them backwards towards him. 

They don’t go far enough from you and Logan is forced to get too close for his liking to dress himself. 

He pulls his wet shirt on himself, the long sleeves stick to his skin as he yanks it on. 

“Keep facing forward. Don’t turn around”, he orders. 

“But” you begin. He can see you slow movement to turn around so he gently shoves you in the right direction. 

“Listen to me. Face the wall”. His voice was angry again, commanding you to stay still. 

The jeans didn’t want to go on wet. With his harsh, and quick movements it felt like he was in a fight. He does eventually get them on, only bothering to do up his button and not his zip. 

He doesn’t bother putting on his socks. Keeping them in his hand while he picks up his wallet, shoes, and keys from the floor. 

The jiggling of the keys gives way to his plan of escape. 

“You still have fifteen minutes”, you state not moving from your position on the wall.

He wondered why you cared that he was leaving early. Did you not want him to get away from you? Or where you wondered about his reaction if he found out he was cut short?

“It doesn’t matter”, he barks as he makes a quick bee line to the door. 

He pauses once he reaches it. The water pools at his feet as he turns to look at you once more. 

“I am sorry” he comments. 

He races back down towards the door he came in through. Everybody stares at his dripping state. Some men laugh quietly among themselves. He could still hear your elevated heart beat in room seven. 

“Hey! Hey!” a voice calls behind him. 

In his agitated state he was ready to rip their head off. He turns to do it to see the lady who greeted him. 

“You still pay full price”, she demands. 

“Huh? Yeah”. He steamrolled over her to the counter, pulling out his wallet. 

His focus turns to the hallway expecting you to appear, but from what he could see your door never opened. 

He taps his bank card without looking at the price. Xavier kept him comfortable for his work. 

He leaves without approval, bumping back into the crowd of people as he makes his way back on the path. 

Soaking wet, and barefoot, he makes his way back to his small apartment. 

His claws dig underneath his skin, wanting to come out despite there being no threat. He fails to make it to the bed, laying on the carpet floor instead. 

Your name repeats in his mind. 

—---------------------------

He tries to forget you for the next three days. He was supposed to be back by now, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. 

Xavier called him every hour to be sent straight to voicemail. 

Logan walked the city, often finding himself walking along the front of the bathhouse. He never goes in, but listens for your voice, and breathes deep to smell your faint scent.

You didn’t talk much to your clients. A few flirty comments when they first arrived, but then silence as you completed your work. 

You didn’t talk to them like you talked to him, and that had to mean something. 

The worst part was not knowing exactly what you were doing. He loved to hear the beeping of the machine as you pressed the buttons, because at least that meant you weren’t touching them. 

Even in his best efforts he couldn’t manage to walk away. He knows he should. There were plenty of other mutants that needed to be put down. 

He should continue with his life, and you yours. 

He couldn’t keep you. He could barely keep the kids at the mansion alive, and they all had powers to protect themselves. 

He would be throwing you in the line of fire. A fire that he might not be able to protect you from. 

You would grow old too. Unless he could figure out a way to keep you young. Could Xavier know of a way? He was sure that he could protect you from everything but time. He would need some help. A connection to someone who could slow down time in adjacent to him. 

He grunts as he drives his claw into his right thigh. He lets out a painful laugh as he pounds his fist into the brink building he was hiding behind. 

The brick crumbled under his fist. A reminder of what he could do to you without even intending it. He would only need to make a mistake once. 

He was worried about protecting you from others, when he should have been worried about protecting you from him. 

He was no good for you, even if you would be very good for him. He was destined to live out his life alone. A punishment for his ability. 

Maybe a goodbye would help him. If he could leave you with a nice impression instead of an old, dirty man, maybe he could leave. 

He crosses the sea of people to the steps of the building. He could hear you as you said goodbye to your client, and drained the water from the tub. 

He waits by the bottom of the step until the man came down and passed him before entering. 

Was this a place where you made appointments? How long would he have to wait to see you again? He wondered. 

It was a different lady at the counter which alleviated some of Logan's anxiety. 

She greets him in the same manner as the other lady. 

“I was after a private bath with y/n. Would she be available?”.

The woman looks at her computer before smiling up at him. 

“You’re in luck. She just finished up. Follow me”. 

Logan wished he dressed nicer. Put on some cologne, brushed his hair. 

Your scent became stronger the closer he got, it seemed to ease his nerves. 

The women knocks three times on the door, and Logan's hand goes to reach for the knob prematurely. 

“Just a second”, you call out. 

“She won’t be long”, the woman addresses Logan, who drops his hand away. 

With a nod and a smile the woman returns to her desk, and Logan waits by the door for you. He ran over what he was going to say, but when you swung the door open he had forgotten his opening line. 

“I never expected to see you again” you state. 

“Me either”, he responds.

To his surprise you step back from the door to allow him in. He quickly takes the invite, shutting the door behind him. 

You were dressed in another black dress. This one had thick straps and an appropriate neckline but an open back that scooped down as far as possible. 

“I wanted to apologize”, he expresses.

You tested the running water with your hand as you listened to him. 

“You are far from my worst customer”, you revel. 

You don’t look at him as you add bubbles to the bath. 

“Still, what I said” Logan pauses under your stare before continuing, “What i did was uncalled for”. 

You smile a pretty smile at him almost as if you were laughing at him. 

“Well, you’re forgiven. Now did you want me to face the wall again?”, you ask. 

Logan twists on his spot. “I ain’t looking for a bath. Just to apologize”. 

“Have one” you insist. 

You walk over to him, taking his belt into your hands. He catches your wrist to stop you from taking it off. 

“You got me in trouble last time”, you tell him, “You’re not supposed to walk out scared and wet. If you walk out now in less than a minute they’ll wonder what I did”.

“Well I owe you two apologies”, he states.

“If you're looking to apologize, get in the tub”.

He feels you pull out of his hold, and he lets you make distance so you could spin around. 

His self-restraint wasn’t that strong so he rids himself of his clothes and hides under the bubbles in the tub. 

Hearing the water splash, you turn to him. 

With the weight of his adamantium bones the water rises to the top and you quickly go to turn off the tap. 

You kick off your shoes, leaving them at the faucet and walk back up to the top of the tub. 

“I can’t see anything”, you console as you kneel down beside him. 

He reaches his hand out to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re a world of hurt for me, bub”.

“Your world only lasts fifty minutes”, you tease. 

You move out of his touch to go behind him. Your small fingers squeeze his big shoulders. He relaxes under your touch as you work your way along his shoulders to his neck and back. 

“Feels good, bub” he praises. 

“Feels good?” you repeat.

Your hands trail down his chest, reaching for the top of the water. His hands catch yours before they could immerse under. 

“Don’t” he warns. 

“Okay. I am sorry” you apologize, tugging your hands free and back up to his neck, “I’ll stay above water”.

He found it hard to relax again. He felt vulnerable, naked under your touch. It would be better if you too were naked. It would make it less embarrassing when you realized he was hard under the water.

“I’ll put your clothes in the wash” you say. 

He reaches out behind him for you to stop you moving away.

“No. Keep going”, he protests. 

You don’t go to move again. Your fingers continue to massage him until he relaxes once more. 

Only then do you stop to reach for the shampoo bottle in front of him. You squirt it into your hands, and then massage it into his head. 

He falls back against the tub, loving the feeling of your hands twisting in his hair. 

You do it for longer than necessary seeing that he liked it.

Your fingers roll in a circle on the side of his head, causing him to groan at the feeling. 

His claws push up, moving the bones of his hands. It was painful every time but Logan had gotten used to the feeling. He flexes his fingers in an attempt to dissuade them from coming through. 

You must have noticed the grimace on his face as he forces the metal back into his hand because you stop massaging and reach for the cup to rinse his hair. 

You’re careful not to get it into his eyes, smoothing back the hair as the water and soap runs off. He could see why men pay for this. 

He takes your hand not holding the cup and forces it against his cheek as he lays back. With his eyes closed he breathes softly against your skin. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him. 

“I am worried I’ll never be okay again”, he admits. 

“You’re tough. I can see it” you flip your hand so your palm is pressed against his cheek, “You’ll be okay”. 

You drop the cup next to him, and reach for the conditioner. He is grateful that you allow him to rest against your hand as you massage it into his head. 

You try your best to get his whole head but his position made it difficult. 

"You know you don’t have a scar over you”, you mention. 

“Soft living’”, he jokes, although it was only funny to him. 

As you leave the conditioner to soak, you pick up a clean rag and begin to scrub his skin. 

Disappointment fills him when he feels you trying to release your hand from under him. He could have kept it stuck there but chooses to raise his head. 

You lift up his arm and scrub under his armpit, and along his side. Carefully not to scrub any skin under the water. 

You move onto the next and he laughs at you. 

“The full treatment here”. 

You smile back as you continue to work. 

“$300 should get you the full treatment”, you utter. 

“$300? Christ, that’s a year's worth of cigars”, he remarks. 

“You smoke?” you ask him. He feels your hands push him forward so he leans for you to wash his back. 

“Like a chimney” he honestly admits, “You get $300 an hour?”. 

You were done with his back so he leans against the tub again. 

“No” you state as you reach for the cup that had sunken under the water. You stop yourself before your hand goes under. “Would you mind passing me the cup?”. 

“Oh yeah”, he remarks, reaching down into the water and bringing up your cup. 

You take it from him and begin to rinse his hair. 

“No, I make $150 an hour. The house makes half”.

“Still pretty good. Maybe I am in the wrong line of business”, Logan quips playfully. 

“Maybe you are” you jest back, “You never did tell me what you did”.

“I told you. Bad things”, he pulls up out of your hold. He didn’t want to tell you what he did. What he was. 

“Are you always this tense?” you ask him. 

“Yes” was the short, curt reply. 

With a final squeeze of your fingers against his neck, you move down to the bottom of the bath. Slowly you reach for his soapy feet that were propped up against the end of the tub. When he doesn’t object, you take it as permission and begin to massage his feet.

His head makes a heavy thud as it falls back into the marble. It had been a long time since he had ever felt this good.

When he hears you begin to speak, he lifts his head back up to have eye contact with you.

“What made you come back?”, you question. 

He feels you apply more pressure to his foot as you ask. Something about the question made you nervous. 

“You”, he answers honestly, “i didn’t want you to think I was a prick”. 

Your lips curve into a smile at him, and Logan feels his heart twist. 

“I didn’t think you were a prick”, you say. 

“You’d be the first”, he huffs.  

Relief floods him. He wanted to ask if you thought he was a dirty, old man but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. 

No more conversation interrupts the peace. Logan allows himself to relax into the water while you dig your fingers into his flesh. He lets out soft groans to let you know that he appreciated what you were doing. 

All too soon, your strong fingers stop pushing into the soft flesh of his foot. His head shoots back up automatically out of his relaxed composure. 

His wet hair sticks to his forehead, and the steam from the bath had begun to sweat his skin. He looked like a wild animal, while you looked put together as always. 

With your make-up perfectly placed and not a hair out of place. He would love to see you disheveled. A whining mess underneath him as he teased another orgasim from you. But tonight would be the last night he would ever see you. 

You would go on, find a nice man to marry and have children to. Die of old age when your time comes. 

Logan would go his separate way. Keep living well past what he desired. With no purpose, and dying friends. 

You rise from your knees, and he watches you as you retrieve a towel from a warming rack and bring it back over. 

With your body half turned to him, you hold out his towel. 

“Get out and I’ll dry your hair”, you offer. 

He takes the towel, and you walk over to your vanity as he rises from the water and wraps the towel around his waist. 

He follows you, taking a seat when you tell him to. 

You look at him in the mirror as you plug your hairdryer in. Once you began to maneuver the device around his head, your eyes followed but his remained staring at you in the mirror. 

Sitting directly in front of you, he could see the actual size difference. You were half of him if that. 

You said you looked out for you, but how would that be possible? You weren’t anything special. Were you a mutant too? Or just a naive little girl who had never faced any real danger. 

Maybe it would be best if he were to take you. Danger lurks everywhere. He could take you home. Make sure nothing bad ever happened to you. 

The bones in his knuckles separated and the metal began to break skin but as the sound of the hairdryer cut, his claws retracted back in. 

He couldn’t take you. He was old enough to be your great grandfather. What had happened to him that he was thinking these thoughts? Has loneliness finally caught up with him after a century of being alive?

Your fingers snake up through his hair again, itching his scalp and the thoughts of taking you returned. 

“There, all dry” you state. 

The sound of a timer goes off, startling Logan who was expecting something wrong from the sudden noise. 

“That’s our five minute warning” you tell him. 

The forty-five minutes went too quickly. He would never see you again, or at least he had promised himself he would never see you again. 

You gather his clothes for him and throw them over a blind. 

“You can get dressed behind that”.

He nods his head. Moving quickly to cover himself again. 

These thoughts were relentless telling him not to go. She couldn’t stop you from staying, no one could. His conscience told him. But he needed to leave your presence before he did something he couldn’t just apologize for. 

Maybe some distance would help. He had been away from home too long. He just needed to return home and live comfortably for a while. Focus on the kids at school. 

He makes sure his jeans were properly done up, and that his shirt and jacket were the right way before returning from behind the blind. 

You were by the vanity chair, back on your knees with his shoes next to you. 

You smile at him and pat the chair. Telling him without words to come to you. 

He follows your request sitting down in front of you. You came up to his thigh in height. 

“I can do it” he states. 

“Full service” you reply. 

He feels the wood of the chair cracking under his hands so he moves it to the top of his thigh in a tight ball. 

You’re gentle as you place the socks on his feet, followed by his shoes. You even do up the laces for him despite the end timer going off two minutes prior. 

You rise from the floor, taking his hand to lead him to the door. 

“Will I see you again?” you ask him. 

“No” he promises but taking another look at you, he wonders if he can follow through. 

“Well, goodbye then, Logan”, you gently say. 

“Goodbye, y/n” he returns. 

He tears himself away from your door, walking the same quick pace back to the front counter where he throws his card on the desk and pushes his way back into the busy street. 

His instinct told him to go back, he had to fight against it the whole way home. 

—--------------------

He thought distance was the answer, but his heart ached to go get you. No amount of alcohol or pills satisfied it. 

Everyone knew something was wrong. He got sick of everyone asking him what happened on his trip. If he was okay. If he wanted to talk. 

He had gotten more aggressive than usual. Things that he could normally brush off, now end with someone pinned against the wall by their throat. 

Xavier tried his best to get into Logan's head but his resolve would not soften. No one would understand how he felt. No one would justify the measures he was willing to go. 

He booked a flight only a month later. Every day was spent thinking of you until he broke. He was a hero. Saved people daily. What was one life if it meant he was able to save countless others.

He books a room, the closest and cheapest to the bathhouse. He could smell you from here now that he had locked onto your scent. 

The old bed creaked under his weight as he struggled with himself. With his head in his hands, he grumbled to himself. 

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be thinking these things to himself. It wasn’t too late to turn around. Nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone. 

But then he heard it. Your sweet voice welcoming a man into your door. His feet took off before he could stop them. It was only a short distance of a block to the bathhouse. 

The street was busy no matter the time of day, but much like when he first walked down it people parted to let him through. 

When he grips the door knob it shatters underneath his hand. So he is more gentle when he pushes the door open. 

A new woman greets him cautiously but he ignores her going straight to your room. The woman yells at him as he walks. One brave man tried to stop him and ended up thrown half a meter into the pool. 

No one bothers him after that. He could hear the water move as you washed the man. 

Knowing he will break the door knob, he instead pushes the door open, snapping the lock. 

You gasp hearing the impact, and look at him startled. The position was compromising. You were sitting back on your heels scrubbing the man's back wearing the same halter neck slut dress that you wore when he first met you. 

“Logan?” you question, “What are you doing?”. 

The man rises from the tub, unashamed by his naked state. 

“Get out”, Logan growls. 

“Listen buddy, I paid the full-” the man stops his sentence when the claws emerge from logans hands. 

You shrink back to the floor, using your hand to keep you upright. 

“Get out”, he repeats. 

This time the man scrambles to the door, running past Logan without his clothes. 

You try to follow suit but Logan's long claws block you from your exit. 

You stare at the shiny metal, your face reflecting back at you. 

“You’re coming with me”, Logan states, putting away his claws so he could take you by the arm. 

“Let go of me” you beg, trying to pull your arm from his grip. 

He leads you to the chaos of the bathhouse. Word had spread that a mutant had entered the building and now people ran for cover. 

“Let go. No!”, you scream.

 You pull your arm too harshly in his hold, he could hear the muscles in your arm straining under the pressure. He loosens his grip so not to hurt you, but brings you closer to his chest.  

“Stop it, kid” he demands, “You’re going to hurt yourself”. 

“Stop, logan. Please, just let me go”. Your heart was fast, and your eyes dripped with tears. 

He reaches up to touch your face but a gunshot pierces his body before it lands. An annoyed groan rubbles from his throat, and he pushes you away from the line of fire. 

Another bullet lands in his chest when he turns to see a man in a robe holding a shaking gun. 

He dodges the next shot, stalking forward to the frozen man, he grabs the gun out of his weak hold and sends him to the floor with a headbutt. 

Tossing the gun aside, he turns to see you no longer in your spot. You couldn’t have made it to the door in that short of time, and your scent was still strong in the room. 

He follows it behind the bar to where he saw you squeezed into a tight corner. 

“Hey, bub” he tries his best to use a soft voice, “we gotta go. Come on”. 

He reaches for you, but you push his hands away. 

“Come on” he says more forcefully. He reaches for your waist and not your arm to avoid hurting you. 

You thrash against him, begging him to let you go. 

He allows it until you reach the front door then he extracts a single claw from his hand that crossed your stomach. 

“Walk” he demands. 

He manoovers himself so he was behind you with a hand on your stomach and his claw pressed into your side. 

You allow him to walk you down the steps and through the crowd, back to his apartment. You were too scared to say anything. Some people gave you a strange look as you passed them crying but no one stopped to help. 

“You’re alright. I ain't going to hurt you”, he promises. 

He would never hurt you. As soon as you had managed to make your way through the crowd, Logan retracts his claw completely, instead placing both his strong hands on your hips to keep you moving forward. 

“Almost there. Atta girl, just keep moving”. He encourages. 

The dim lights of his hotel came into view. The vacancy sign buzzed allowing small flashes of light in an otherwise dark street. 

He could see fine given his heightened ability, but knew that your lack of senses must be adding to your anxiety. 

“Alright, this way”, he takes your wrist into his hand, trusting that you would follow him up the metal stairs. 

Your heel snagged on the step. Without Logan's hold you would have been sent flying forward. 

“Sorry” you gasp, trying to let him know that it was an honest stumble and not a deliberate act on your part. 

“Are you hurt?”, he steps down to your level, throwing your arm over his shoulder while he bends down to take off your shoes, “Let's take these off”.

He holds them in his hand, and your waist in the other and continues to lead you up. 

“Come on, we are almost there. Just down the end”. 

You reach the top of the stairs and he leads you to the end of the corridor. Stopping at the door that peeled with paint while he digs in his pockets for his key. 

He opens the door, quickly pushing you inside and shutting it again. 

“Here sit” he suggests. 

With his hands off you, he turns on the bedside lamp so you could see.

You do take a seat on the bed, and Logan stands in front of you. 

“You’re a mutant?” you finally say. 

“Yeah” he admits with a hard tone. 

“Are you going to kill me?”, you whisper. 

“Christ, no”, he kneels down in front of you so he could be in your eyesight, his hands caged around your legs on the mattress. 

“Y/n, I am one of the good guys”, his own words froze him. His eyes cast down to where your dress has risen dangerously high up your thigh. His finger traces up from your knee to your dress hemline. 

“Not that you are going to believe that after I am done with you” he says more to himself than you. 

“What are you going to do?”, you quake. 

He rises himself enough to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Whatever I want”,  he whispers against your lips. 

He pushes you as gently as he can into the mattress. Using his body weight to cement your place under him. 

“Get off”, you complain the second his lips are off you. 

“I can’t” Logan protests. His lips go to your neck, biting down harshly. He intended to leave a mark. A claim of sorts for the world to see. 

He may have bitten down too harshly, as you push against his face with your hands. 

He can hear your heartbeat as it thumps in your chest. It stills him in the crook of your neck. 

He didn’t want to scare you. 

“I am sorry”, he admits softly into your skin. 

He places a soft kiss on the sore he had just created, and reaches to untie the knot of fabric around your neck. 

Your hand reaches up to catch the fabric as it falls, holding it over your breasts. 

He moves on, hooking his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, and pulling them off onto the floor. 

“It’s alright, just breathe”, he concludes. 

You keep your eyes shut, and your breaths manic. 

In an effort to make you more comfortable, he lifts you up by your armpits and places you in the center of the bed. He changes positions to match yours, straddling you on the bed while he moves the pillows under your head, and by your sides. 

You lay there frozen with your eyes squeezed shut, while he removes his clothes on top of you. 

You feel his attention return when his lips press down on yours, his hand gently on the side of your face. 

“Open your eyes, and look at me”, he commands in a low whisper. 

You are met with his face, and bare shoulders peering over you. 

“There she is”, he grins a beautiful smile as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. 

His lips go to yours again before trailing down to your neck, and chest. 

His hands met your on the fabric of your chest, and he tugs it down, bunching the dress around your hips. 

A kiss is placed at the top of your breast activating your fight. 

You tried to push against him but he was too heavy to even shift. 

“Easy” he tells you, “take it easy. It’s alright”.

He comes back up to your face, and begins to stroke your face with his finger again. 

“Settle down”, he breathes. 

“Logan, please just let me go”, you beg. 

“I tried to,” he admits, “but I've never been much of a quiter”. 

He kneads the flesh of your breast in his hand, and grows darker at the thought of not completing what he wanted to do. 

“Now you’re going to relax and let me take care of you, or I'll tie you to the bed”. 

You don’t move again as Logan trails down your body to slide the bunched fabric of your dress down. 

He nestles between your thighs next, keeping a strong grip as he inserts himself into you. 

He groans as you accept him. Despite your protests you were warm, and wet for him.  

He places his hands on stomach feeling the skin that had been hidden from him for so long. 

“Please keep your hands away from me”, you shudder. You curl into yourself as much as you could, scared that the blades would come out and pierce into you.

He takes his hand off your stomach, per your request. 

In an act to show you he had no intention of hurting you, he releases his claws, and drives them into the mattress either side of you. He feels as they push through the fabric to the bed frame. 

 “I would never hurt you” he promises.

He keeps his weight on his hands as he thrusts into you. Your hand remained on your chest until they sprang out to his shoulder in an attempt to control the pace. 

He slows down until he is at a pace where you no longer push on his shoulder. 

As he continues you find yourself building, so you turn away and bury your head into your pillow. 

You hear as his claw is pulled from the mattress, and feel his tight grip as it latches around your chin. He pulls your face back to his direction, resting his forehead on top of yours. 

You feel his quick breaths on your skin, and breathe them in. 

His eyes were closed, but one hand now held your face in place, and the other held your hip down. 

You gasp when you feel yourself cuming around him.  A low growl makes its way to your ear but you were more focused on Logan fucking you through your orgasm. 

Your nails become claws when he doesn’t stop. You make weak sounds, but no words as he thrusts into you. 

“You can take it” he says, somehow knowing what you were trying to say. 

His hold on your chin becomes hurtful as he reaches his end. You yank at his fingers trying to pry them off but your fingers slip from the force you were trying to use and makes no difference to him. 

A loud moan tells you he was done before you felt the warm substance drip from you. 

With a smaller, satisfied groan he opens his eyes to look at you. The same smile appears on his face preceding a deep kiss to your lips. 

He doesn’t remove himself from you but loosens his hand on your chin, and hip. 

You feel his body weight as he rests his head back on your forehead. He was conscious to keep his weight off you, yet the skin he pressed against yours, pinned you to the mattress.

“You alright, princess?” he pants. 

You don’t answer him, and he kisses you in your silence. 

 By the third time you are fucked dumb. You have a glazed look in your eye, and your body is weak against his. He uses you like a toy. Kissing you, and fucking you while you lay there with little energy left. 

His stamina and quick recovery times meant that once was never enough to satisfy him. You would lay quietly next to him for only a few minutes before he was ready to go again. 

You whine as he approaches you again, not ready for yet another round.

He lays on top of you, gently caging your head between his arms as he whispers “I know, I know”. 

He did know. When you began to cry from overstimulation, he felt terrible but couldn’t bring himself to stop. He wasn’t anywhere near his peak, and your pussy clenched so nicely around him.

“Don’t cry”, he begs, “sh, don’t cry”. 

You wouldn’t listen. He wasn’t sure if you could even hear him in your state, but he continued to talk anyway. 

“Sh, its alright. Feel good there?”, he asks as your hips buck against him. 

“Feels good there, hey baby”, he targets the spot that makes your hips buck, and you latch on to his strong shoulders with your nails. 

“Pretty girl like you should always feel good. Can I be the one to always make you feel good?”.

No more fresh tears sprang from your eyes, but the path was still wet, and a large tear balanced on the outer corner of your eye. 

He moves his hands closer, using his thumbs to brush off the water. 

“No more crying, hey bub”.

You turn your head away from him, resting your forehead on his bicep. He turns his attention to applying the right amount of force between your legs. 

He gives you a bigger rest time between the next one. Despite, him roaring to go again. 

You lay pressed against his side, half-asleep. He slung his arm over the top of your pillow, waiting for you to recover. 

Your lipstick was worn off from his ferocious kissing, and your hair had come undone around you. 

You open your eyes to look up at him, and he takes it as a sign that he could continue. 

He takes your chin into his hand to keep it still as he slides down in the bed next to you. 

“No. That’s enough”, you demand, trying to wiggle your head from his hold. 

“Just one more” he promises, “I just need one more”. 

He kisses you as he hooks your leg over his hip. Reaching back to guide himself into your swollen pussy. You fit together like a jigsaw piece, another reason why all of this was meant to be. 

He liked the intimacy of the position, pushing against your lower back to force you closer. He holds his hand there as he thrusts into you, keeping you from wiggling away. 

You rest your head on his chest, and arm over his neck taking what he gives you. 

His pace is gentler than it had been all night. Slow, controlled thrusts that rocked your body rather than shook it. 

His arm under your head kept you level with the large man, but also meant that every moan, and whimper went straight into his ear. 

It was encouraging for him to hear you reluctantly enjoying yourself.  He only wanted to bring you pleasure never pain. 

You groan softly as you cum again, and it triggers his own orgasm. 

When he was done with you for the final time, you collapse into the mattress without Logan's body scaffolding yours. 

He brushes the hair that had fallen over your face away with his large palm, and lays flat on the bed. 

“Come here” he requested, opening his arms for you. 

With eyes closed you shuffle to his chest where he pulls you just over his heart. You fall asleep almost instantly, but Logan remains awake gently stroking your hair. 

He had been called an animal all his life, but tonight was the only time he truly felt like it. 

—-------------------

You woke the next morning to the sound of his voice, 

“Hey bub, hey, come on, we have to get going”. 

You feel him smooth his palm over the side of your face, and you knock it away. It felt like knocking your hand against an immovable metal pole. 

Last night ruined you. You weren’t sure you could rise from the bed if you wanted to. 

“I am not going anywhere with you”, you state. 

He had taken what he wanted. The deal now was to leave you in peace. 

The next sound of his claws unsheathing and digging themselves into the mattress next to you made your eyes sprung open in shock. 

“Get up, now”, he demands. He was eager to get home and get you settled in. 

Xavier would get involved if Logan was absent for too long. A week here and there was nothing unusual but Xavier knew Logan too well to ignore any strange behavior. 

He passes you your dress as you rise, and you quickly place it on, looking for your panties next. Watching you put them back on made Logan want to take them back off but the plane was departing soon. 

The short, black dress was definitely more night time appropriate. You stand trying to cover your chest with your folded arms. 

He takes off his jacket, passing it to you as he speaks. 

“How far is your place from the bathhouse?” he asks. 

“Not far, a block”, you answer. You take the jacket off him and zip it up over your dress. 

It smelt of him, and his cigars. 

“Come on”. He says, taking your arm and tugging you behind him as he left the apartment. 

“I can get there myself”, you fought. 

“Kid, we haven’t got time”. He moves his grip to a harsher one on your upper arm, and half carries you in the direction he wanted you to go in.

Your heels click behind him down the steps. He detours to drop his room key back to reception before continuing on the path back to your work.

He is silent as he backtracks to the bathhouse. The street is much busier during the day. People stare as you pass them looking. 

When the Bathhouse comes into clearing he can feel you pull against him trying to get him to stop. 

He halts of his own accord, peering down at you in the middle of a busy street.

“I need to get my keys and phone from work”.

“I can get through the door. Don’t worry about that”, he shakes you slightly, getting impatient with the lack of direction,  “Which way?”

You point to the left, and take the led back to your house.

The streets thin as you weave your way out of the center of the city, and into the residential block. Everything was old and run down. 

Broken, smashed cars lined the streets, graffiti was sprayed on every covering, people kept to themselves not even looking out the window as you passed. 

He follows you until you stop at a run down apartment block. 

“This is it”, you state. 

“Upstairs”, he orders but you don’t move. 

“Let me go or I'll scream”, you threaten. 

“And I’ll kill anyone that comes. Upstairs”.

 You were yet to learn that Logan had reservations about killing needlessly, especially non-mutants, so you admit defeat and wander down three apartment blocks to your actual home.

The bar was low, but your apartment block was the nicest in the street. No graffiti or broken windows. A nice, clean brick that reached three stories and opened to a nice fourier. 

There was no elevator but there was only one flight of stairs up to your apartment. 

You show him your door labeled 2A, telling him there was no way to get it open unless he took you back to the bathhouse. 

He ignores you, placing his hand on the knob and giving it a gentle push that breaks the lock. 

Your heart rate picks up faster, which worries Logan as it was already quite high. 

He lets go of your arm to allow you to go in first, and shuts the door behind him. 

It was a one bedroom apartment, with a small open kitchen that opened to a small space that had to be chosen to be a living room or a dining area. 

You had chosen a living room with a green couch sat in front of a small rectangular table. 

“You can take what you want. I have some jewelry in the food cupboard”, you state. 

“This isn’t a hold-up”, he grumbles, “Come here”.

He goes to your bedroom, listening to your feet following him. 

He goes to your closet to see your luggage bag stored up top. He takes it down, and begins throwing items into it. 

‘What are you doing?”, you begin to panic seeing him stuff your suitcase with your clothes. 

“Do you have a passport?”

“Why?”

The plane was departing within the hour. He had no time to answer obvious questions. 

“Do you have one?”. He reiterates. 

“No”. Your heart skips a beat as you lie. 

“Go get it”, he demands. 

“I don’t want to”, your voice was quiet and strained. 

He knew he should have taken a softer approach. To be uprooted overnight would be a hard thing for anybody.

Yet still, his claws dig through at your resistance. 

“Go get it”, he said in a lower tone. 

His blades work to persuade you, and you move quickly to your bedside table to retrieve it. 

He zips up your suitcase, holding out his hand for your passport. You pass it to him, taking a step back once it's in his hand. 

Checking it’s valid, he puts it in his back pocket alone with his. 

“Logan, I can keep a secret” you say, “I would never tell anyone about you”. 

“That’s nice, bub. Go change”, he nods to the wardrobe behind him which you take a pair of jeans, and a singlet from. 

You were too quick to the bathroom, so he stops you before you enter. 

“Ah” he tuts. 

He takes a look inside first to check for windows. There was only a small one with a security screen so he allowed you to pass and shut the door on him. 

After a frustrating phone call in which he was misunderstood twice, he manages to order a taxi to the airport, and knocks on the door to let you know it was on its way. 

You open the door a different person. Your makeup was all wiped off, and your hair was pulled back into a ponytail. 

The confident seductive was replaced with this fragile girl-next-door type. He didn’t think it was possible to love you anymore. 

You hand out his jacket to him which he takes but opens it to wrap around your shoulders. 

“Keep it. It looks good on you”.

“Logan-” you begin but he cuts you off. 

“Sh” he dismisses taking your head into his hands, “it’s alright. I know”. 

“But-” you try. 

He sh’s you again, “Don’t think. Just come with me”, he begs. 

Moving his hands from your head to your wrist he takes you back outside the bathroom to where your bag lay waiting by the door. 

You don’t know why but you follow his direction to put your sandals on your feet, and follow him down to the street and into a taxi. 

Your head reels as the car drives. The taxi is silent, only the sound from the radio plays. Logan holds onto your thigh while he looks out of the window. 

You stare at his hands, wondering where the blades went when they were retracted. 

You think about telling the driver but one man was no match for Logan. 

The man pulls into the drop off station, and gets out to get your luggage. 

Logan turns to you in the car, demanding your attention from his eyes alone. 

“Are you going to save us both some time and be a good girl, or do we need to go over what will happen if you draw attention?”. 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Good girl, let’s go”. 

Logan goes out the same door you do, instantly taking your hand in his in the busy station. 

He pays the man, and takes your suitcase for you. 

“Where are we going?”, you request. 

Logan joins the back of the line for check-in’s

“New York”, he gives. 

“What's in New york?” you ask him. 

“Home”.  

You flex your hands in his, trying to get it free.

“I am going home with you?”, you implore. 

He nods, not looking at you.

“You said you were one of the good guys”, you remind him. 

“I told you, I am a good guy that does bad things”. 

His fingers clench around yours in a painful hold. Your eyes fill up with fresh tears. You knew Logan wouldn’t hurt you, but he was a stranger, a mutant, who had taken you from your home, and planned to place you in his. 

“Don’t cry. Not here”, he demands. 

He moves his body to shield you from prying eyes, as you try your best to conceal your panic. 

A gentle hand rubs your back as you move up in line. 

The girl at the counter notices your red eyes, and asks if you are okay.

“She’s a nervous flyer” he lies. 

The woman ignores him, asking you the question again. 

The hand you held had blades that came out on command so you nod your head in agreement. 

“I’ll be fine once we are up in the air” you say. 

The woman hands Logan the tickets, and you make your way over to the security screening. 

Logan seemed amazed you had lied for him. 

He kisses your head, thanking you for not causing a scene. 

He lets you go easy when you reach the security point, letting you walk through the metal detector. 

You eye the security and their guns, but you watched Logan get shot at point blank. Would their guns even dint him?

The metal detector beeps when Logan walks through. For a second, you think that you will find out if their guns work on him when a security officer closes in. 

“Easy there, big guy”, Logan takes a slip of paper out of his pocket to show the man, “I have a metal hip”. 

The man takes the pass over to his supervisor.  You wonder if they know something is wrong as they talk, but the manger looks relaxed, and with a wave of his hand the pass is given back to Logan, and you get the go ahead. 

Logan slings his arm over your shoulder past the security who don’t take a second glance.

“You have metal in your hands?” you whisper the question to him. 

“I have adamantium in my entire body” he explains, “It’s a type of metal”. 

You feel amazed at the news. A whole body of metal reinforcing him to be the most dangerous man you had ever met. 

The most dangerous man you had ever met took you over to a cafe stand. Buying you, and himself a roll and coffee. 

You never would have guessed the man you met at the bathhouse harbored such a secret. How many other clients were mutants too, or was he the only one. 

“It’s gettin’ cold”, he says noticing you staring at him. 

You accept his gift, starving after last night. 

The rest of the time until boarding was silent. Only then did the sense of dread kick back in. 

“Please”, you beg. 

“I am sorry. Get on the plane”. His voice was soft, but you could hear no sound of true sympathy from it. 

He keeps you in front of him as the attendant checks the tickets, and you find your seats. 

You were the only two on your row, right at the back of the plane. 

Logan settles into the seat beside you, doing up his seatbelt, and checking yours. 

The cabin crew begin their safety speech. Your eyes were trained out the window, not looking at them. You hoped the plane crashed. 

When the plane began moving at a fast pace, Logan checked your seatbelt again, pulling on it to make sure it was tight across your lap. 

You look at him. He was tense again, and shut his eyes when the plane took off. 

When it stabilized he let out a breath of air, and opened his eyes, falling back into his seat. 

“Afraid of flying?” you ask surprised. 

“If god wanted us to fly, we’d have wings”, he quips. 

“And if god wanted us to have blades in our hands, we would”. 

Logan's hands ball into fists. He was a freak in your eyes.

“One day I’ll explain what happened to me”, he promises. 

“What else can you do? You’re strong, hard, body full of metal”, you start, “and that man. He shot you”. 

“Baby, I can do alot of things”, he dismisses. 

“Like what?” you push. 

“Maybe now is not the time to be discussing this”. He says looking around at other passengers. Most of whom already had their earphones on. 

“What do you want with me?”, you implore. 

“Now’s really not the time to be discussing that” He grits.

“One of the good guys” you remind him. 

“I'll settle for being an okay guy. Stop talking” he growls. 

You turn back to the window away from him the rest of the flight. 

You watch as the clouds below you turn orange, and then black. Logan passes you a food tray from the stewardess and you eat it in silence. 

It must have looked odd to the stewardess. Neither you or Logan played with the screen in front of you. Just sat there with grim expressions on your faces. 

 Lights turn off as the cabin goes to sleep. You were nowhere near ready with the adrenaline pumping through your body. 

Logan takes his blanket from the wrapper and lays it over your shoulder. 

“You should sleep,” he says. 

“Is that how it's going to be from now on? You telling me what to do” , you snap. 

Logan turns away from you, facing to the front. 

“It was just a suggestion”. 

You run your hands over your face wondering what sort of keeper he was going to be. 

“I need to pee” you say. 

He unbuckles his seatbelt to get up out of your way but you couldn’t wait for him. You’re fighting to get past him as he tries to stand. 

He grabs your waist to maneuver you but the touch sends rage through your body. 

You scream in his face. A loud ear piercing scream that turned everyone’s attention on you. 

Logan quickly let go, slumping back into his seat under the stare of other awake passengers. 

You rush to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. 

The tight space allows you to breathe. 

Washing your face with cold water, you decide it is time to return to your seat. 

Logan waits for the sound of a turning lock before he jumps from his seat to catch you as you exited and push you back inside. 

He is quick to lock the door behind him. 

Three, quick, firm smacks are placed on your bottom as he pushes you against the sink. 

It stings when he sits you on the counter, and stands between your legs.

“Are you crazy, bub? Acting like that”, he scolds. 

You try to move him out between your legs, but he pushes your knee down as you move your leg. 

“Don’t you ever misbehave like that again”, he warns. 

“Or what?”. He had already taken everything from you, and you trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t really hurt you. 

His angry stare didn’t scare you, but when his hands reached for the button of your jeans your heart rate spiked. 

“I gotta fuck the stupid out of you?” he spat. 

“Get off” you demand. 

You scream in his face again when his hand continues to unhook the button. 

He is quick to quieten you, clamping a hand over your mouth. Your head hits the mirror from the force.

He secures your hands behind your back with a single hand when you begin to hit him. It caused you more pain than him, it felt as if you were hitting against a brick wall.

The force knocks out his necklace that he had never worn before. A rectangular pendant dangles as he moves. You could see it was inscribed but the writing was too small to make out. 

“Is that how it’s going to be from now on? Me telling you what to do. Yeah. I think fucking so”, he grunts. 

“Now don’t scream” he orders. 

The hand over your mouth is removed as he uses it to tug down your jeans, and then his own. 

You know you should scream, make some sort of noise that would alert the others, but desire pooled with him between your legs. 

Your emotions were too complicated to unpack so you allowed him to take your pants off your legs. 

He throws them to the floor, but keeps your panties in his hands. 

You see why when he brings them to your lips, and forces them in your mouth. He clamps his hand back over to keep you from spitting them out. 

He sighs as he enters you. 

“You know, you don’t need to act stupid to get my attention”, he grunts as he rocks into you. 

Your toes curl feeling him inside of you. He fit so completely that you were building from just clenching around him. 

“Don’t cum. I’ll tell you when”, he says. 

You muffle a protest against his hand, but it was met with no sympathy. 

“Don’t you fucking cum or I’ll put you over my knee for ten more”. 

Your ass still stung from the three he gave you so you delayed yourself the best you could. 

He picks up his pace, slamming into you quickly, and hard. You hear his chain clink as he moves.

“Okay now”, he directs. 

Your thighs shake as you clench around him. 

His hand drops to allow you to regain your breath, bringing your pants from your mouth as he did. 

He pants in unison with you, only he is quicker to regain his resolve. Your head was still reeling while he re-buttons his jeans. 

He shakes his head as if he was trying to snap out of the trance he was in. 

It seemed to have worked as he was gentle when he slid your underpants back on. 

It was as if two people lived inside of him. One was sweet, and gentle, the other impulsive, and violent. 

You weren’t sure which one turned you on the way it did. 

He looks at you with those remorseful eyes. You should hate him but yourself wanting to comfort him. You knock it down to Stockholm and square your shoulders against his. 

“Let me take a look at you”. He turns your face in his hand and smooths back your hair from your face with his other hand. 

He checks to make sure you are okay. You didn’t look to be crying or in any pain. 

“You right, Bub? You going to be good for me from now on?”, he asks.

You take the necklace out of his shirt. He doesn’t move to stop you, letting you read his dog tags. 

‘LOGAN’ in capital letters and Howlett in smaller letters below. A series of numbers trace the bottom. 

You flip it, feeling the indents on the other side, and run your finger over the name. 

“Wolverine” you read, “like the animal?”.

He takes his tags from your hand and tucks them back under his shirt. 

“Yeah, like the animal”. 

[tubbytarchia]

I'm back on my crap

Song is Forest Fire by Brighton

It'll be a general animation of the life series in general, and not shippy! Just general... Really wanted to animate this scene first though to some degree teehee

If you'd be so kind, please suggest some significant feeling scenes that I could add into the animation involving Impulse, Skizz, and Pearl outside of Double Life + Lizzie outside of Secret Life!!

woe Jimmy and flower base upon ye too

[handdrawnverathin]

Hi. So, uh... it's been a while. And after all this time, I think it's time to be honest with myself and admit that this animatic is probably never going to be finished. I started it when I'd only watched a couple POVs of Third Life and it really shows in the designs. Some of them aren't bad - I still like how I drew Tango - but enough of them have details wrong or just weird vibes that continuing to draw them is kinda dissatisfying. That being said, I put a lot of work into it and didn't want to let it just die without saying anything, so here's a collection of GIFs from the few scenes I managed to get edited.

For the record, I am still on the Hermitcraft/Life Series brainrot train and I have some drawings that I've been working on that I genuinely like. So hopefully those will be done soon! Just as soon as I finish that one project that I started eight years ago. But it's getting there! I swear!

Also: for anyone interested, I've included the original frame-by-frame plan below the cut

SONG: Willow Tree March, The Paper Kites

Intro

Feet swinging over sandstone cliff face (0:00 - 0:05)

Lower half of Grian’s face visible, whistling (0:05 - 0:12)

The cool bit

Fade to front face view of Grian, looking up slightly (0:12 - 0:16)

Real quick zoom out to all players standing in a row looking dramatic (0:16 - 0:28)

Title card fades in as overlay (0:20 - 0:28)

Player introductions

(0:28 - 0:30)

(0:30 - 0:32)

(0:32 - 0:34)

(0:34 - 0:36)

Peaceful times

Grian walking through a forest, early morning. First frame is a footstep, then a side view of him looking around (0:36 - 0:44)

Flower Husbands meeting, afternoon. First frame is Scott peaking into the hole from outside, then Jimmy looking up at him sheepishly (0:44 - 0:52)

Renchanting looking up at the sky, sunset. First frame is a hand raised to block the sun, then a rear-view shot of them from the waist up (0:52 - 1:00)

Phantom shelter, night. First frame is a wide view of the group either hiding or fending off phantoms, then a close up of a few of them laughing with each other(1:00 - 1:08)

FIRST DEATH

Wide shot of Scar burning the tree (1:08 - 1:12)

Close-up of Grian’s face as he looks to the side. Creeper visible in the reflection of his eyes. (1:12 - 1:16)

Scar doing some smooth talking. A wisp of smoke fades in behind him.(1:16 - 1:20)

Close up of Scar’s face turning around, eyes widening (1:20 - 1:22)

Yellow heart (1:22 - 1:26)

The promise

Wide shot of Monopoly Mountain, cut to close-up of Grian swearing loyalty with a hand over his heart (1:26 - 1:34)

Close-up of Grian’s face, mostly the eyes, looking a little unhappy with the whole situation (1:34 - 1:42)

Tensions rising

Skizz looks at an enderman: over-the-shoulder shot of him looking back, then a close up on his eyes widening (1:42 - 1:50)

Cleo threatening Pizza - animated? Initial/final poses plus two in-betweens (1:50 - 1:58)

Tango’s lava game: first a close up of his smiling face, then a wide shot with his arms outstretched in front of the challenge (1:58 - 2:06)

Scar threatening Ren for the enchanter: first an over-the-shoulder shot of Scar, then one of Ren (2:06 - 2:14)

Uh-oh

Wide shot of ceremony (2:14 - 2:18)

Ren, kneeling, waist down and cloak on (2:18 - 2:22)

Low-angle shot of Martyn looking very uncomfortable. Winces a bit, axe raised and…  (2:22 - 2:28)

Swings down. We get a flash of Ren's face, grinning, before fading out. The red eyes linger just a bit longer. (2:28 - 2:32)

O_o

Flower wall burns down (2:32 - 2:40)

Rear view wide shot in silhouette

Front view, sad and also a little horrified

Desert battle (2:40 - 2:48)

Profile view of Grian with a slightly manic smile on his face as explosions go off. The camera is pretty close to him, so we can’t actually see the explosions, but add in some effects and it’ll get the point across

Siege of Dogwarts (2:48 - 2:56)

Aerial attack using slowfall arrows

Ground combat feat. Joel and dogs

 Bdubs kills Impulse, Scar kills Bdubs (2:56 - 3:04)

Interlude

Scar (right) kneeling in the water before Grian (left). We can see Scar from about chest down and only the lower half of Grian’s legs (3:04 - 3:12)

Low-angle shot of Grian looking down at Scar holding a sword. We can see Scar’s head and maybe a bit of his back depending on camera angles. (3:12 - 3:20)

Fade to the Tree in a dark void, glowing as if by firelight. Very slow pan out. Fade to a wider view before the light is extinguished, leaving us in darkness.  (3:20 - 3:28)

Ghosties (dark gray background, white outlines)

Jimmy/Cleo/Skizz (3:28 - 3:32)

Joel/Scott/Etho (3:32 - 3:36)

Tango/Ren/Martyn (3:36 - 3:40)

Impulse/BigB/Bdubs (3:40 - 3:44)

They want blood (survivors haunted by ghosts)

Grian, with chestplate and sword, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else(3:44 - 3:48)

Scar, also not having a good time, sword and shield but no chestplate (3:48 - 3:52)

Facing each other, no weapons or armor. Scar of left, Grian on right (3:52 - 3:56)

Close up side view of Grian’s face: scared, then steeling himself (eyes closed) then shouting as he runs in (3:58 - 4:02)

The girls are fighting! ;A;

(4:02 - 4:10)

(4:10 - 4:18)

(4:18 - 4:26)

We have a winner

Full body behind shot of Grian standing at the edge of the cliff before falling (4:26 - 4:36)

[maybe-im-dark]

You know what? Fuck it! I am going to fix X-Men Origins! I love this movie and i'm not ashamed of it! I am gonna write scenes to fill out what was missing in the movie and new scenes to fix the bad ones! Starting with this one! All script style! Maybe some directors will take notice!

---

EXT. WOODS — NIGHT

Logan, much younger, his bone claws freshly discovered, runs through a dense forest alongside Victor. The air is thick with the smell of pine and soil, the sounds of night creatures filling the air. It's after he's learned the truth —that Thomas Logan is his biological father —and the rage from that discovery burns deep in his chest. They are both on the run, outcasts in the wilderness, with only each other to rely on.

But tonight it's not just survival. It's something more —something that makes Logan grit his teeth in pain.

Victor:

(gruff, demanding)

"Again, Jimmy, do it again!"

Logan grits his teeth, his breath ragged. His fists clench at his sides as he braces for the pain. With a snarl, he forces his bone claws to extend from between his knuckles. The jagged bones tear through his skin, breaking through muscle and tendons that have never been used this way before. The pain is excruciating, every movement of the claws sending waves of agony up his arms.

Blood drips from the wounds as the claws fully extend, the pain still fresh in his mind. Logan hunches over, panting, sweat pouring down his face. He tries to push the pain away, but it lingers, throbbing in his every fiber.

Logan:

(growling)

"It hurts, Victor! Every damn time!"

Victor steps closer, towering over his younger brother, his sharp eyes gleaming with something almost predatory.

Victor:

"It's supposed to hurt. It's part of who we are. But you have to get used to it. You need to pop these claws fast —no hesitation."

Logan stares down at his blood-covered hands, the claws still jutting out awkwardly from between his knuckles. The pain hasn't lessened, but there's something else there too —a strange sense of power, of strength. He can feel his instincts, those feral instincts that Victor has talked about, scratching at the surface.

But he isn't ready to let them out. Not yet.

Victor circles him, pushing him harder.

Victor:

"You're holding back, Jimmy. You have to keep practicing until it doesn't matter how much it hurts. Because if you don't, when the time comes, you'll be too slow —and dead!"

Logan clenches his jaw, his muscles tensing. He retracts the claws with a sharp grunt, the sensation of bone pulling back into his flesh equally painful. His skin heals over the wounds quickly, but the memory of the pain lingers. Before he can catch his breath, Victor is at it again, pushing him, forcing him to pop the claws once more.

Victor:

"Again! Faster this time!"

Logan growls, but he obeys, the claws tearing through his skin once more. The pain is unbearable, but each time he does it, the sensation dulls slightly, his body slowly adapting to the unnatural act.

As the night stretches on, they continue. Logan's instincts begin to shift. Each time the claws emerge, it becomes less about pain and more about the hunt. The animal inside him begins to stir, clawing its way to the surface. And as they get older they begin to hunt together —tracking down prey through the forest, moving with a feral grace that neither of them had before.

EXT. FOREST — DAY (YEARS LATER)

Logan, now a young man, taller and broader than before, moves through the woods with Victor. His chest hair has grown in, his mutton chops and weathered skin starting to form the features he's known for. He's no longer the boy who ran from his past. He's a man now, hardened by years of survival, hunting and the painful growth spurts that have reshaped his body.

But it's not just physical. Something inside him has changed. The animal Victor always talked about —the beast in their bloodline —has become more present. Victor, tall and muscular beside him, watches Logan with an almost proud look in his eyes.

Victor:

(approving)

"You're growing into it, Jimmy. That's the animal in you, just like me. Passed down from our father's blood. You've always had it in you."

They've been working hard labor jobs between hunting and fighting for survival. Their bodies have become stronger, more muscular and Logan moves through the world, he feels the weight of his instincts pulling him closer to the beast inside.

But even as Victor encourages it, Logan still holds back. He knows there's a line —a line between the man and the animal and he's not ready to cross it.

Logan:

"I'm not like you, Victor. I'm not gonna give in to it."

Victor laughs, a deep rumbling sound that echoes through the trees.

Victor:

"You're already halfway there, brother. You feel it every time you fight, every time those claws come out. You just don't want to admit it. But one day you'll see it like i do. You'll stop fighting the animal inside you and you'll become who you're meant to be."

Logan turns to face Victor, his expression hard, resolute.

Logan:

"I'm not giving into it! I'm not you!"

Victor's grin fades slightly and something more dangerous flickers in his eyes. He steps closer, his posture aggressive, his voice dropping lower.

Victor:

"You think you're better than me, huh? You think you can keep that part of you locked away? You can't, Jimmy. Sooner or later the animal's gonna come out and when it does...you won't be able to control it."

Logan squares his shoulders, his muscles tense. For the first time, he feels a true challenge from his brother, not just in words, but in the air between them. The tension crackles and before either of them can back down, it explodes into their first fight.

Victor lunges, his nails sharp like claws and Logan recacts instinctively. The bone claws snap out from his hands and he meets Victor's attack with the same ferocity. The forest around them becomes a blur, as the brothers collide, their bodies fueled by the feral strength they both share.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Hannibal Dashboard simulator!

🐕dogsandflyfishing

This my new dog. Everybody, meet Winston.

No, I did NOT steal him. He was a stray.

And here are the others:

(Except for Zoe, she does not like to have her picture taken)

#dogs

🐈‍⬛ teamsassyscience <- -> reblogged

Aw, your puppies are adorable.

137 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

I would like to share this interesting article I came across.

The Standard Monograph on Time of Death by Insect Activity by Professor Will Graham

_______________________Keep Reading

659 notes

😷autopsyguy

Can you guys help me end a debate between me and my colleague, @iwishididn'thaveatwin.

🐈‍⬛ teamsassyscience <- -> reblogged

Guys, I thought we settled this weeks ago...

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin <- -> reblogged

The definition of the word 'prey' is: An animal that is hunted and killed by another for food. Deer and elk do NOT eat them, therefore they are not prey.

😷autopsyguy <- -> reblogged

Get your own post, Jimmy.

1,708 notes

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

😶‍🌫️Anonymous asked:

Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I noticed some of your posts and your url, and I was wondering if you have any advice for fly fishers? I think I've made my lures all right, but I can't catch anything.

My advice is name it after someone you cherish. If they cherish you back, then you'll catch something. It's worked for me.

17 notes

🔥Sponsored

Chordophone String Shop

Genuine catgut strings imported from Italty.

Violin and cello lessons available.

Specialists for piano and harpsichord rewiring.

_______________________Learn More

📸tattlecrime-official

It Takes One to Know One

The FBI isn't just hunting psychopaths, they're headhunting them, too, offering competitive pay and benefits in hopes of using one demented mind to catch another. Sure, we're familiar with the stereotype of the FBI profiler, swaggering onto a crime scene, fitting the pieces together like a master puzzler with his 1000-piece jigsaw. In reality, profilers should be likened to harridans reading a cup of spent tealeaves- passing off their active imagination as incisive fact.

To read the rest of the article, click the link Here.

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image <--> reblogged

@tattlecrime-official I believe we had a very serious discussion on this matter. I am very disappointed that you decided to ignore it. You have been naughty.

📸tattlecrime-official <--> reblogged

@are-we-not-made-in-his-image Freedom of the press and speech. If I truly couldn't write about it, I'd be sitting in jail right about now. Mind your own business.

328 notes

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

🐈‍⬛teamsassyscience asked:

Can we please see a picture of Zoe?

Fine.

47 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

🧀tyromancy-is-fun asked:

I noticed you recently posted a picture of Jose's in reference to a recipe and I was wondering how you liked the place. Isn't it the best?

I am aware this is an alternate account for @the-real-franklyn-froideveaux and I would like to ask you once again to please refrain from following me or interacting with me on social media. It is not appropriate. Thank you. I will be blocking your account after this.

9 notes

💀fawn-in-the-forest deactivated 9-13-2014

Me and Dad on a hunting trip.

3,769 notes

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 13: Isekai: Old Hero New World

Summary: Danny doesn't know how he got here, but science seems to have advanced a lot... and gotten very animal focused?!

(cw: alternating pov)

Ao3 link

An explosion in the lab and a tumble through a random portal inside the realms later, Danny has no idea where he is.

Blue skies, green plants. He knows he must be on Earth, but where?

Doesn't help that the green is getting closer as he moves upwards. Oh, he's going down!

Are those trees?

Oh yeah, he also seems to be falling!

Danny sure hopes he's in ghost form. Not looking forward to if this is how he kicks the bucket for real. Either way, this is gonna hurt.

No energy to scream and barely conscious as it is, snapping branches snuff out any awareness he momentarily had.

The Wild Kratts crew are relaxing in the Tortuga when Koki gets an alert by some Wild Kratts Kids. It was Aiden! Something strange happened in the forest near his home.

Something had a big crash in the woods and it seems to have scared the animals near by and the kids are worried.

Could it be one of their usual villains? Maybe, but they tend to be more subtle than this. Hopefully it's not a new villain they need to worry about.

The crew packs up and heads to the North American Eastern Woodlands, full of concern and mounting dread.

Danny wakes on a bed of broken branches and is surrounded by trees walling him in, the sun shining through the canopy. A squirrel napping on him scurried away as he sat up to take in his surroundings more clearly.

How long was I out?

He's not Sam and can't identify plants on sight, but he's pretty sure this forest is local or at least similar to what he's used to. He thinks these might be oak trees but don't quote him on that. It just seems likely that he at least stayed in the U.S. is all.

It'd be easier to find out where he is if he could check the stars but, sadly, it's the middle of the day. No stars for him. A shame.

Checking himself for injuries, he finds that he must have changed back after crashing. The timing for it makes the most sense for one.

Hoping he doesn't have a concussion or any broken bones that he can't feel, Danny starts to walk through the forest. Too worn out to fly for now.

That and he doesn't know if its safe to risk it or if someone would see Phantom and call the GIW or something.

Danny limped forward in the direction he chose randomly and saw the sun peaking brighter through the trees. Hoping that it means there's a clearing, he speeds up as much as he can.

The closer he got, the louder and more distinct voices became in that direction.

They sound young.

Once he reached the edge of the forest and into the clearing, his legs gave out. He has been walking without rest since he woke up and Danny can't even remember when he last ate.

As he blacks out, his only thought was how he must look to the kids who had to be nearby.

Hope this doesn't traumatize them.

The crew arrives on scene. The clearing near the beaver pond seems undamaged but they know better than to just judge without investigating.

The area is eerily quiet, especially for this time of day.

Jimmy pulls them in for a landing and the others get ready to disembark. Kratt brothers Martin and Chris make their way to the concerned children first thing when the Tortuga landed.

"Ok, just to be clear. What did you hear?" Martin beat Chris to the punch in asking.

"There was a big crash deep in the woods. And then the whole forest went quiet. We haven't seen almost any animals since." The older of the two brothers answered, the younger one nodding to confirm he heard it, too.

After deliberating with the others, the Kratt brothers were about to venture into the woods to investigate. About to.

Because right before they could, a boy, early teens at oldest, stumbled out of the forest looking like he had been through a very rough hike.

Meanwhile, miles away but in the same forest hours ago:

The whelp didn't notice him?! What an insult. The halfling is quick to notice the presence of a ghost, even if due to that 'ghost sense' of his. To not be noticed means it was on purpose or something is wrong with his prey. Yet he seemed to be functioning like usual!

Skulker hovers above the treeline, watching Danny plummet into the leafy abyss.

"Pathetic. The whelp really must be slipping if he failed to notice me. Although his parents were right there and disrupted the sanctity of my hunt! They have no respect for actual hunters. Closer to savages who target indiscriminately than a hunter who can tell which prey is worth the effort and which are bottom feeders best left alone. Even the whelp knows that! They are more akin to Plasmius and his cruel experiments on the recently dead and never born than true hunters." The ghost thought out loud to himself, mentally marking his observations down as he flew. Grumbling along the way. "It should not matter where the hunt took place, even inside the cursed residence."

He left to find something more fun to hunt in the meantime. The whelp was no fun when he doesn't bring a challenge!

And he didn't have to search long.

He didn't happen upon a creature catching his eyes but another hunter! One with a different style and class than he's seen the human world have before! Even if he hasn't really seen most of the human world. He won't stay, of course, but he can observe these new methods and see if he can add them to his own style. The possibilities are endless.

Coming into consciousness was never fun as he was forced to take stock of what is wrong. Danny is sure more damage to his person happened since the last time he did so. A few hours ago. He thinks.

He has never been good at telling time on a good day, let alone on a day where he hasn't been aware of time's passing.

Sitting up, he realized his burns he can now feel have fresh bandages on and that he is not alone or surrounded by trees this time.

He seems to instead be in some kind of medical room. Not professional and it lacks the smell of antiseptic and buzzing of florescent lighting of a hospital. One less thing to worry about, he supposed.

I am getting real tired of not knowing what's going on.

A young woman poked her head in the room. She had a tan complexion, neatly tied back hair, and a bright yellow jacket. Her face lit up once she saw him, kind brown eyes landing on him.

"Hey, we were worried about you!"

Danny doesn't know this woman nor why she'd be worried. Sure he was hurt, but he got hurt all the time!

In lieu of answering with words, he used his very confused expression and pointed to himself to ask and make sure.

"Yes, you! What kind of kid goes hiking in the middle of the woods without any gear or ways of communication?"

Oh yeah, my phone should still be in my room. Haven't had the chance to tell anyone something happened. That and something was in the lab, of course I went alone!

"Someone who woke up there and just started walking." Danny was still groggy having just woken up, his mouth moved before his thoughts caught up with him.

"Just woke up there?!"

Ooops, guess that was the wrong thing to say.

"Sorry? It was the middle of the night when someone broke in and the sun was up when I woke up in the middle of all the trees."

Her face looks sickened.

SHIIIT. WHY CAN'T I SAY THE RIGHT THING?!

"What I meant was 'Hi, my name is Danny, what is yours?'!" he near panic shouted out of sheer embarrassment.

Taking a second, the woman in yellow tried to get her thoughts in order while making sure her mouth worked. Hopefully better than his as he keeps putting his foot in his mouth.

"R-right, I'm Aviva and you're on the Tortuga. The headquarters of the Wild Kratts crew."

"That was a lot of words that you said. I don't know what a 'Tortuga' or a 'Wild Kratts' is but it's nice to meet you, Aviva." Danny answered her with a polite smile and an attempt at a handshake which she thankfully returned.

"Well, it seems we both have questions. How about I get the others so I'm not the only one trying to clear this up with you? Or you can move to the main area when you're ready. Ayaiyai, I am not the team medic. I think I'll grab someone else to clear you and get you something to eat and drink. They'll want to know you're awake, anyway."

All he could do was not as she left the room muttering to herself like mad with a dazed expression.

Great, more strangers. At least I can get answers soon. Hopefully.

Martin and Chris were investigating the forest. Something mysterious is happening and they don't like what they've been seeing.They found the spot of broken branches a good ways in like something fell from way up high.

They sure hope it wasn't anything alive because they doubt whatever it was would have survived the fall. But given that there are nothing but broken branches, either an animal dragged it off or the fallen object got up on its own.

It wasn't just that. If it was just whatever fell, the forest wouldn't be as silent as it is. It's giving them an eerie feeling.

Chris searches for clues from the trees as the climbing brother while Martin checks from the ground.

Heavy boot prints and purposefully damaged plant life hints at someone dangerous out here. They worry about the kid they found who came from this direction and woke up here according to him if Aviva's report is accurate.

They decide to continue investigating a bit longer before heading back. Their animal friends could be in danger and a kid has been targeted!

Only, they didn't need to continue looking. The air grew colder when before the sun kept them warm and now it's like the sun can't reach them. A deafening silence even more noticeable over the lack of forest noise, and a new sound of the whine of small rockets like a jet pack.

Out of the corner of their eyes they could see a silver suit of armor and flaming green hair. A net suddenly sprung out at them and they barely managed to dodge!

The only thing they heard from this new villain was him calling for a 'whelp' and that nothing else in the area would be worth his time, but that they would do for now.

Danny made his way to the main area of this building he woke up in, having gotten tired of waiting, when he heard an alarm. Still exhausted, he braces against the wall after the noise assaults his ears.

What the?

Now fully awake, he tries to understand what has everyone in such a tizzy.

Two men were on a video call on the big screen talking to Aviva, a ginger, and a black woman he has yet to meet. Talking about a new villain searching for some rare creature he called a 'whelp' while stomping around in a metal suit.

A new villain? Wait... 'Whelp'? Oh no.

Danny is now glad no one noticed him because now he can sneak out as Phantom. His reserves are still low but if Skulker is here looking for him, then he's gonna get him!

Not gonna let some innocent civilians get hurt because he's too tired. He never let that stop him before!

... Though, he will have to be smart about his powers. They don't know about him, maybe even ghosts in general, and he doesn't want to ruin a forest because a ghost followed him all the way out here.

On his way out, he got to see the place from the outside and he just knows his friends would be jealous once their worry moves out of the way. A turtle ship! Not too unbelievable from what he's seen but it's amazing. A combination of both Sam and Tucker's passion!

Well, I can always be fascinated later.The dead never rest, after all.

He snaps out of his momentary awe and leaves towards where he first woke up. Following the now twice over haunted forest trail.

Further into the forest, the brothers were dealing with this guy. Or trying to at least.

It's like this anything they do goes straight through him!

Don't get them wrong, they are glad they are being targeted instead of some poor animal but c'mon! This guy has to be getting tired at some point! Even if it's just his suit getting overused.

He kept demanding information of where whatever creature he was looking for was. Which, even if they got what he meant specifically by 'whelp' and 'half ghost' they'd never rat out any creature to someone who'd want to hurt them, anyway!

And then, he decided since they aren't helpful, they might as well be target practice! Who does this?!

They're on the back foot, trying to get away when suddenly a blast of green energy comes from behind. Shooting right in between the brothers and hitting the suit or armor guy square in the chest. Pushing the villain back a few feet and leaving a strange, charged smell in the air.

Whatever that was, the new villain grinned at the arrival.

The crew back at the Tortuga scrambled.

A new villain, a hunter by the sounds of it, is looking for a creature he calls 'whelp' or 'halfling'.

And to make matters worse, when Aviva went to check on the injured kid and he was gone. He vanished as if he was a ghost!

She was the one to check on him because he already met her and now she's even more worried about him! She's glad they already sent the Wild Kratts kids who called them here home. It wouldn't do to worry about their safety, too!

He said he just woke up in the middle of the woods and some of his wounds are older than just the last few hours he has to have been hiking for. More like stumbling! He's lucky the direction he picked led him to other people!

How did he up and leave without anyone noticing, anyway? Even if they were busy, someone should have heard him leave! Right?

No! Don't beat yourself up for this, Aviva! Focus on the task at hand for now! A new villain is in these woods now and the injured kid disappeared! They could be connected somehow!

She jumped on a Buzz Bike after letting the others know she was on her way, and left towards the action.

The brothers Kratt only had a moment to turn their head to see the newcomer before things started happening again. The world felt like it was on pause between the blast and the newcomer floating in there, feet off the ground, as they gave a sassy and confident smirk.

Whoever this was had the physical appearance of a young teenager with snow white hair and glowing green eyes, shining the same color that is lighting up his outstretched fist. He seemed to be glowing the same white as his hair and off-putting aura that the man before them was. An aura that wasn't that noticeable before now is amplified. The rest of him was in black and white like a strange bodysuit with a stylized D on his chest. An emblem like their paw print ones on the power suits.

The power suits!

That gives them and idea.

Before they left to find some creatures, they could hear the robotic armor and newcomer exchange banter like they knew each other.

"Ah, so you finally show yourself!"

"Skulker, you asshole! First you broke into the lab and shot me in the back and now you are just throwing a tantrum because I'm not here to entertain you! What the hell!"

"You know full well how this goes, ghost child."

"But at 2 AM?! I just managed to pass out. And because you attacked in the house, the house's defenses activated! I am so tired of you and I'm running on negative sleep!"

Wait... the 'whelp' was this KID?!

The newly dubbed 'Skulker' refuted the accusation that he blew up whatever lab the kid was in. Then shouting about some kind of 'Frootloop' was the last they heard before they made a retreat.

Who that kid is doesn't matter right now, it's time to find some creature powers to help him out. They don't want to leave the kid alone with that guy for long, he looks and is acting like he can handle it but he's clearly very tired. Skulker is very clearly armed and dangerous!

Aviva made her way to the boys, having no idea where Danny wandered off to and only able to focus on one thing at the moment, when the brothers quite literally crashed into her. Leaving them all sprawled on the ground for a hot minute before picking themselves back up.

"Guys?! What is going on?"

"We wish we could tell you." Martin replied first, taking a second to process things.

"What we do know," Chris chimed in, "is that what we need is some creature power. There is a dangerous villain farther in and we need to help that mystery kid fighting him!"

"What? Is there someone else out there? Did you say 'kid'?"

"Yeah, and we need to help them. They showed up out of nowhere to help fight off Skulker, that's the villains name apparently by the way, but they seemed really tired just after one hit!"

"What?!"

"Yeah. We need to help them! Hopefully after we can learn who this person is, too!"

"Well, more than being the 'whelp' Skulker was searching for!"

The boys ran off in different directions, finding a different creature to transform into.

Aviva was left there, stunned.

Today has been so confusing.

And not the fun way.

She's going to help even if she doesn't know everything that's going on or so help her!

Aviva gets back on the Buzz Bike and heads for the action.

Danny has less energy than he thought!

One blast and he's already struggling to not change back again.

Damn Skulker! First his ghost sense wakes him up and then he comes at him from behind, pushing him into this mess!

Sure, maybe the lab explosion was probably not entirely his fault but there's a whole lot else from that night that was.

Danny is pretty sure adrenaline and rage are all that's keeping him moving, but what else is new?

Having to doge and weave through the trees while Skulker can go right through them, apparently finding it fun to have trees as obstacles. Frustrating but he knows the alternative is the fight above the trees and he's not sure he could stay in the air long enough for that.

Exhaustion dragging through him, right to his bones even in this form, is his body's payback for not resting enough even if he never really gets to.

One wrong turn and a failed dodge later, and he slammed into a tree. Winded, tired, and in a daze. Struggling to catch his breath, all he can do is lean on this tree that caught him mid-flight. Collapsing under his own weight.

He was sure that this was it for him, when suddenly a large green bird and a human sized bipedal blue wolf, he thinks, started attacking Skulker from two different sides.

It wasn't until they spoke did he realize that they were the two men Skulker was fighting earlier! At least Danny thinks so? Today has been wild for him. But he is pretty sure he at least heard their voices back at that giant mechanical turtle.

The green bird man took the fight to the sky, Skulker following him. The ghost is curious and confused, yet intrigued. He hopes they aren't some rare creature for him to hunt, too!

While one went off to take the fight out of here, the blue brother stayed behind. The man came up to him, concern etched onto his face.

"Hey, kid. Are you alright? Standard question, I know, but a response would be good." This was said in a light tone but caution was in his voice.

Shit, is he talking to me? Great, hope my mouth works properly this time.

"Yeah", a groan escaped him as he tried to stand while the world spun, "Just trying to find the bus that ran me over."

"Buddy, I can say with certainty that getting up right now is not a good idea for you."

"But if I don't fight him, who will? He could hurt someone! Besides, I'm used to this."

The man frowned, looking a bit heartbroken. Danny didn't understand why, especially while in this state. No one else minded he did all this stuff. Danger is the price to pay for living in Amity Park, let alone being a Fenton!

"How about this, you tell me what you usually do when fighting him and we can let my brother know? He's the green bird you saw earlier."

Danny wanted to protest but he could barely see straight. Can he really trust these guys? He wants to but his head is pounding too much to think clearly.

"I don't even know your name, wolf-man."

The blue wolf man paused, before chuckling a bit, "Oh, right! I'm Martin and my brother is Chris. We're the Kratt brothers! Most people we run into are able to recognize us so I forgot you probably wouldn't know."

"Huh", Danny's mouth tried to work as he processed this. Martin and Chris are apparently big names here! But all he could say was, "Didn't know a bird and a wolf could be related like that, are you adopted?"

"Wha-", he looks at himself and realizes he's still transformed, " Oh! No this is from my creature power suit! Our friend, Aviva, invented them. Programming and form and everything! Animal DNA and nature know-how takes care of the rest!"

Huh! Technology sure can be impressive! Especially when it's not centered on his and other ghosts' destruction!

"Oh." Apparently he cannot talk today, "I'm Phantom."

While trying to remember what else he was asked, an explosion shook the trees, stopping any further conversation.

Coming back down through the trees was Chris, plummeting right on top of them, screaming.

Martin moved to catch his brother. To keep him from getting more hurt and to keep Phantom from being directly impacted. A glow of green and blue signifying the crash to cause their deactivation.

The light from their de-transformations caught Phantom's eye. They can change just like him! He thinks he can trust them with this, after all.

Oh, no! But that could be bad if Skulker decides to want them for that!

Wait... Skulker!

"Ya gotta remove his head."

The now human looking brothers look at him in disbelief. Chris showed confusion as well as only Martin had context for that.

"Oh, right! Chris, this kid is Phantom! Phantom, this is Chris!"

"Bro, that only answered one question."

Danny just realized they are both looking at him.

Right, it's not obvious. Forgot.

"The head of his suit. It comes off," Danny tried to explain while his head and mouth were not working right, "then ya gotta use this."

He hands them the Fenton Thermos.

"For soup?"

"Nooooo, ya gotta uncap it and just point it at him once the head is off. It'll get him to stop."

Dannys instructions were not as clear as they should be but they had no choice but to try it.

Able to get around the trees better and with Skulkers attention back on Phantom, they managed to knock his head off.

And they were really not prepared for what happened next.

With the head now off, the body just went limp.

Like no one was inside.

Then they looked at the head in their hands and tiny, green feet were sticking out of them. Kicking wildly.

"Use the thermos!"

Phantom's strained yell startled them that they dropped the thermos and almost dropped the head.

Only to be picked up by Aviva, coming in clutch.

Danny tried to explain what to do, but he's unsure if what came out made sense.

Well, either it did or she was able to intuit what needed to happen, as she did exactly what she needed to do.

She pointed the thermos and aimed it at the knocked off head. Skulker finally was able to force himself out of his robotic head right before the beam hit him.

His booger-y form is visible for all to see and cursing them all.

Danny laughed at his small form, feeling good about this.

"Hey, guess what! I can transform like you guys!" Danny exclaimed, impulse making an executive decision.

And Danny let his transformation rings wash across his body, passing out again for the second time that day. Oblivious to the three adults' shocked faces.

Back in the Tortuga, hours later:

"...And that's what happened. I'm pretty sure that the portal spit me out somewhere completely different or even a different dimension. I don't have time to keep up to date on most news usually, but I'm pretty sure either of my friends would be raving about you guys. One's an extreme activist and the other is a tech nerd who'd totally geek out about this ship."

Danny, bandaged and rested up, explained all that happened leading up to here since he was last home. He slipped in some things about his home and his friends and family. Even ending with what he thinks is a lame smile and jazz hands.

"Everything I learn about you makes me more concerned." One of them said. Danny thinks her name was 'Koki'.

"Yeah, dude. That is seriously messed up," JZ chimed in, "This guy wasn't even one of the more dangerous ones? Are you sure you should even go back?"

"Speaking to the choir, dude. I'm well aware how messed up my half life is. But it is my life, y'know? I need to be able to get back."

Despite the adults' clear hesitation about sending him back, they don't want to trap him here away from the people he loves. That's what their villains try to do when they kidnap baby animals! With what they old him, he can at least trust them to help him get home.

Somehow.

"How will I get home, anyway? I can do some basic engineering from being around my parents' stuff my whole life but I'm not sure where to start!" Danny had to ask. He feels like he can ask them despite the uncertainty. It's not often he comes across adults he can feel this way about.

"Oh, I can help with that!"

"Aviva? I thought you did animal based engineering and inventing?"

"Si, I am. But if I managed to crack time travel, even just a bit, then I don't see how I can't do this, too!

"Now, that is some confidence! Time travel? Do tell!"

"Oh!" The brothers simultaneously looked at her and Danny, "She invented a time trampoline!"

"We went back in creature time to meet extinct animals!"

They practically talked over each other out of excitement.

"A trampoline?!" Danny could hardly believe that human made time travel existed here, let alone one that functioned like a trampoline!

The group laughed good naturedly at his reaction, as understandable as it was.

"I think we all agree that you can stay with us until a way home is secured. Bet you never got to fly in a giant turtle ship, before?" Jimmy casually tells him in his usual, laid back tone.

"You bet I haven't! I did successfully land a NASA shuttle once, though. That was a story and a half for sure. I've done a lot of flight simulators in preparation to be an astronaut!"

It felt good to be able to passionately talk about what he loves with others who can share back different passions.

"Ah, a future space boy, huh?," JZ responded, "Thinking about life on other planets?"

"One of the many things to think about regarding space!" Space talk really brought out Danny's energy.

"Oh,"Koki added, "bet he doesn't know about tardigrades!"

"What are those?"

"Tardigrade, or a water bear, is a small creature, usually only visible with a microscope that can survive in even the harshest environments. Creatures like the tardigrade show us that life could be possible out there in ways we never thought possible." It's like all of them took turns infodumping that he wasn't able to discern who said which part as he took in the information.

"Those things sound so cool! How do we find them?"

"I guess we can show you. You are staying until you can go home after all!"

He's looking forward to future adventures while they last. To learning about animals he never once though twice about and giving their villains a good scare.

"Oh yeah," a thought just occurred to him, "what does 'tortuga mean? Like why did you make that the name of your giant turtle ship?"

"Danny," Aviva said with a smirk,"'Tortuga' means 'turtle' in Spanish!"

Danny's face lit up red in embarrassment and everyone laughed at his expense. He felt warm and welcome here, a way he hasn't back home in a long time if ever.

If animals and how they work were taught anything like this, I don't think I would have failed that class as badly. I think being here will be fun while it lasts!

Sam and Tucker are gonna be so jealous!

[blueishspace]

Last Life with divine domains

Part 1: Rules and Domains.

Rules:

Last Life mechanics but everyone has an origin that assigns them a divine domain with powers and abilities.

Lizzie, Mumbo and Pearl will have completely randomized domains... for the other players they will have a domain that is connected in some way to the one they had in this version of Third Life.

For example In Third Life Scott's domain was Ice, possible domains for him could be: winter (as the season of ice), snow biomes, water (as ice is just a state of water) or crystals (as ice is a crystal)... I put these in a wheel and randomly choose one.

Possible Domains

In here are the possible domains they could have gotten. In [] is their 3rd Life domain.

BdoubleO - [Light] - Day, Sun, Colour, Lamps & torches.

BigB - [Weaving and Armor] - Protection, Warmth, Farm animals, Fate (as weaving is associated with it).

Cleo - [Stagnation] - Change (as opposite), Swamps (as biome of stagnation), Stone (as considered immutable).

Etho - [Darkness] - Night, Shadows, Depths, The Void, Mist, Secrets, Mobs.

Impulse - [Iron & Gold] - Ores & Caves, Copper & Amethyst, Redstone, Diamonds, Tools.

Grian - [Memory & Knowledge] - Perception, Wisdom, Books, Truth, Sight.

Jimmy - [Forests] - Jungles, Swamps, Deserts, Mountains, Snow biomes ecc (as all other biomes), Wilderness, Wood work, Nature.

Joel - [Ground] - Sand, Stone, Plains & Fields, Mountains, Caves, Nature, Compost, Agricolture, Earth.

Martyn - [Justice & Punishment] - Goverment, Law & Rules, Execution, Revenge, Power.

Ren - [Pain & Sorrow] - Regret, Desolation & Loneliness, Grief, Fear.

Scar - [Paths & Roads] - Travel, Merchants and Commerce, Connection, Rivers (as water roads).

Scott - [Ice]. - Winter, Water, Crystals.

Skizz - [Wither & Decay] - Destruction, Death, Poison, Regeneration & Rebirth.

Tango - [Coal & Flame.] - Fire & Forge, The Nether, The Hearth & Campfires, Energy.

Domains

And this is the list with the chosen domains including the new players.

BdoubleO - Day.

BigB - Farm animals.

Cleo - Change.

Etho - Mist.

Impulse - Diamonds.

Grian - Sight. (Wow, the randomizer is a watcher Grian truther)

Jimmy - Wilderness.

Joel - Mountains.

Lizzie - Storms.

Martyn - Law & Rules.

Mumbo - War. (Poor Mumbo)

Pearl - Spring. (Persephone and Pearl both start with P)

Ren - Fear.

Scar - Connections.

Scott - Winter.

Skizz - Poison.

Tango - The Hearth & Campfires.

Powers

BdoubleO - Permanent +1 level of Smite and Bane of Arthropods. I Resistance II during the day. Nearby spiders are pacified. Zombies and Skeletons don't spawn within 70 blocks from him. Ability 1 reverts a targeted zombie villager or witch into a normal villager. Ability 2 blesses another player with Resistance II during the day. Shifting deactivates the 70 block radius no mobs zone.

BigB - Looting II against passive mobs. Breeding mobs generate 2 children. Trown eggs deal punch damage. Van ride horses and pigs without befriending them and without saddles. Ability 1 summons 5 passive random mobs. Ability 2 turns passive mobs against specific targets. When shifting baby animals instantly become adults.

Cleo - Passive Regeneration I. Passive Speed I. x10 random tick speed in a 30 block radius from them. Negative potions effects last 50% less. Ability 1 rapidly drains targets hunger and armor durability. Every 10 minutes ability 2 turns a targeted block to a different random block. Shifting causes their name to change colour.

Etho - Passive Speed II. Name is invisible even when not shifted. Resistance to fire and lava damage. Semi-transparent. Ability 1 gives a target the blindness effect. Ability 2 sets everyone's render distance to 0. When shifting players closer then 10 blocks have their render view set to 0.

Impulse - Resistance I and Regen I when wearing diamonds. Haste II when using diamond tools. x2 diamonds when mining ore. Villagers trade with diamonds instead of emeralds. Ability 1 creates diamond spikes in a 3 block radius. Ability 2 turns the player into diamond (Protection IV) for 3 seconds. Shifting near a player will steal part of the diamonds they might have in their inventory.

Grian - Health is shown on top of entities. Passive Night vision. Sees exclamation marks on top of trapped chests and tnt minecarts. At the start of each session he knows how many boogeyman are active, not who, just how many. Ability 1 turns wood, grass and leaves invisible for a few seconds. Ability 2 gives Invisibility for a few seconds. Shifting gives access to a mini map.

Jimmy - Regen II when touching leaves, flowers, ferns, or tall grass. Untamed Wolves and Foxes closer then 5 blocks are tamed automatically. Tall grass and ferns have a small chance of dropping loot when harvested. When hit spawns 2 bees to defend him. Ability 1 bonemeals a large area without needing bonemeal. Ability 2 turns wolves tamed by other players into Jimmy's pets. Invisible when hiding (shifting) on trees or in tall grass.

Joel - Speed I and Strenght I while in extreme hills and mountain biomes. Passive Feather falling II. Additional Resistance at very high altitudes. Bigger reach. Ability 1 creates a rock wall to stop entities. Ability 2 creates a rock platform that raises the user. Shifting gives additional extra reach.

Lizzie - Permanent Jump Boost III and Feather Falling I. 5% chance of summoning lightning when hitting enemies. Resistance I and Regen I during rain and storms. Immunity to fire, blast and lightning damage. Ability 1 summons rain or storm weather. Ability 2 pushes entities far away. When shifting becomes a lightning rod.

Martyn - Protection II against players with more or equal number of lives. Isn't forced to leave his alliance once red. Access to a list of every life trade. Strenght I against Boogeymen. Ability 1: At the beginning session Martyn is given 5 rules to choose from, the rule chosen is applied for the whole session. Ability 2 summons an iron golem against mobs. When shifting has a chance of blocking hits.

Mumbo - Passive +1 level of Efficiency and +2 levels of Sharpness when using weapons. Passive +1 levels of protection on armor. Defending with a shield has a 20% counter attack chance. When shooting arrows a marker will point where the arrow will hit. Ability 1 gives Strenght II and Speed II but decreases Health (like a weird barbarian rage). Ability 2 is just a dash, makes up for it by having very short cool down. Shifting reduces damage taken.

Pearl - Permanent Speed I and Jump Boost I. Regen II while nearby flowers or on moss. No hunger loss while under the sun (photosyntesis). Can eat flowers and get a random positive effect for a few seconds. Ability 1 creates roots under targets causing them to fall. Ability 2 sprays pollen at enemy giving them random negative effects. Shifting bonemeals nearby blocks.

Ren - Strenght II during the night and in light levels of 0. Endermen and creepers are scared away. Speed I when running after an entity. Access to a mob noises soundboard. Ability 1 freezes entites in fear for a few seconds. Ability 2 gives Blindness and Nausea to a target. Gives Nausea to nearby entities when shifting.

Scar - Speed I on path blocks. Faster when riding Horses and boats. Protection II when near other players. +4 max health (2 hearts). Ability 1: At the beginning of every Scar chooses two players, they will share health for the whole session (if he links himself with another player they will also have 2 extra hearts). Ability 2: Every session Scar can gift a life without losing one of his own (any other life gifted will cause him to lose one though). Shifting gives Regeneration I to himself AND nearby entities.

Scott - Resistance to fire and blast damage. Passive Frost Walker and much in the same way Lava becomes obsidian. Regen II when standing on snow or ice. Snowballs thrown do as much damage as a punch. Ability 1 trows a barrage of snowballs like a machine gun. Ability 2: Once a session can change a 64x64 area into a snow plains biome... Shifting toggles off The Frost Walker effect.

Skizz - Immunity to Poison, Hunger and Wither damage. Rotten flesh gives 3 extra hunger. 20% of poisoning entities. 20% of giving Nausea to entities. Ability 1 trows a lingering poison potion. Ability 2 summons a cave spider. Shifting gives Nausea to nearby entities.

Tango - Resistance to fire and blast damage. Strenght I and Regen II when near campfires. Permanent Night vision. Can eat coal and wood to gain hunger. Ability 1 heals either himself or another entity. Ability 2 trows a burning ember at a target. Shifting causes smoke to appear but causes any attacker to a catch on fire.

Consequences for permadeath

Permadeath influences the domains assigned negatively.

BdoubleO - Day lasts half as long.

BigB - Chickens, sheeps, pigs and cows are stuck at half an heart and don't drop loot.

Cleo - Slower regeneration.

Etho - -50% render distance.

Impulse - -50% durability to diamond gear.

Grian - -50% render distance.

Jimmy - All leaves blocks disappear, Nausea in forests or taiga biomes.

Joel - Grass turns into course dirt, Slowness I when touching course dirt.

Lizzie - Weather is set to rain forever.

Martyn - Red lives lose 2 max health.

Mumbo - Weapons deal less damage and Armor protects less.

Pearl - All flowers are replaced by wither roses.

Ren - Nights last twice as long and are darker

Scar - Life trading stops working.

Scott - Snow and ice disappear, Weakness I when in cold biomes.

Skizz - All mobs have a chance of inflicting poison.

Tango - Campfires, torches and lanterns stop working

Third Life

Next Part

(hi @shortystack75 and @easily-distracted-by-fandom I started the sequel)

[delilahcalicocat]

♡~Always Here~♡

{Rating: Is there a circus in town? Cause Holy f*cking sh!t that's alot of fluff!}

{Warnings: Fem!Reader, Falling Asleep on FaceTime, Reader wearing Cody's nightmare factory Hoodie, Crying, Panic}

{Trigger warning: Animal Death}

{Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Fem!reader}

~Summary: Cody was busy on the road, and Y/N was on leave to take care of her sick cat, and she finds herself wanting Cody to be there with her..~

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[Y/N's POV:]

Cody was out on the road, I was back home because C/N (Cat Name) had fallen ill a few weeks ago, and he wasn't doing so good...

C/N was in his pet bed, napping as he would usually be doing at 11:00pm. I went to wake him up for his medicine, I tapped C/N gently to find him not awakening...

No.. this couldn't be happening- C/N....didn't... die... did he?

I kept tapping the cat, he didn't wake up at all. I panicked heavily..

I FaceTimed Cody, a sobby mess..

"What's Wrong Starlight? What happened back home?" He asked me

"C-C/N is... D-Dead... Cody!" I sobbed out

"Oh... Starlight, I'm sorry.." He spoke

"Can.. I borrow your hoodie for the night?" I asked Cody

"Of course starlight" He Said

I had already put the poor kitten in a temporary coffin until y'know we could have him... cremated ⚱.

So I grabbed his hoodie and put it on, I laid down and kept speaking with Cody.

"So what happened with Finn and JD?" I asked

"So, Finn was cracking jokes to everyone backstage. And JD was drinking a water because he just fought in a match, so Finn made the joke, and JD spat water all over himself" He said

"Haha, that's so funny Codes. So like anything else happen while you were backstage?" I spoke

"Roman Cracked a Smile after Jimmy made a funny picture in his head, and Seth was a cackly mess at the end of the night too" he said

Wow, Cody made me so happy.. I had a contagious smile as right after i smiled he smiled, we kept on talking, we talked for over 2 hours, I found myself on almost the third hour.. Falling asleep, I eventually fell asleep.. and Cody Noticed it.

"Haha, talk to you later Starlight.. hope you have a good night of sleep" He smiled and then hung up

I dropped my phone straight on my chest. I think that's how he realized I was out cold, that or it was my light light snoring

[Dream]

I ran around a sugary, Candy like world.. it was pastel colors and candy everywhere, I wandered into a Licorice forest. It was raspberry flavored licorice, I ran through the forest until I ran into a giant lollipop. The beaches were ice cream and caramel syrup, which seemed weird to me, but okay- I walked onto the Sprinkle Covered Ice Cream Sand. It was softer than I thought..

[Y/N's POV:]

I woke up at like 8:30am, a little later than usual, but it was a Friday so It couldn't hurt to get a little extra sleep, but I woke up to Cody coming in the house...

I'm so happy he's back home now...

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Tag list: {comment if you'd like to be added}

[thetomorrowshow]

took turns a-starin'

shout out to the comment that told Jimmy to get here right now bc his fiance is really sad. sorry

cw: graphic depictions of violence

~

The current pulls him, further and further . . . he doesn't want to go with it, he thinks, yet he floats along, the water cool and cleansing over his many wounds.

He doesn't want to go.

He flails as he falls, reaching out for something, for anything, falling and falling, the dark water growing ever closer below—

He's floating—

He's falling—

He hits it with a crash—

Scott wakes with a gasp of breath.

Something is missing.

What's missing? How can something be missing? He needs to find it, he needs to follow—

He tries to sit up and immediately feels the consequences, his breath stolen in a gasp of pain. His entire body hurts like a boulder fell on him, which wouldn't be good in any circumstance, but he can't really recall being underneath any boulders recently.

The odd feeling that something is missing remains (it's as if. . . .), but Scott pushes it away, takes in a deep breath.

Right. What . . . what happened?

He grits his teeth, gathers what strength he can find and properly sits up, blinking back the fuzzy blackness that envelops his vision.

Dear Aeor, everything hurts. What did he do, fall off a cliff?

He sits there for a moment, just breathing through it. His left wing is asleep, filled with pins and needles. His right wing must be caught up in some blankets or something, because he can't move it, something binding it to his back. His entire body is sore, his head pounding, his throat and nostrils raw, his limbs aching. He's hungry, too, he notices after a moment. Did he not eat anything for supper?

And that, really, is when Scott realizes that he isn't in his bedroom.

This isn't his bed—it feels like a wooden cot, creaking and stretching under him. His blanket is coarse, pillow naught but another blanket bundled up.

The floor is grass, the walls of whatever hut he's in seem to be made of leaves and branches as his eyes adjust to the low level of light, uneven slats between branches letting in sunlight from outside. It doesn't have a door, either, just vines hanging down one side instead of a wall.

Scott slides off of the cot, his legs almost too weak to keep him up. He steadies himself against the low cot (half bent-over, not quite enough room to stand tall) as his vision once again goes black.

Where is he?

The last thing he remembers—

The last thing he remembers is dying.

Losing against Xornoth, his body burned and broken, Rivendell surrendering to the demon because Scott failed—

"I'm dead," he whispers, wrapping his arms around himself, his vision returning in blurred pulses. "I'm—I died, I fell off the cliff and died, I—"

Is this the afterlife? A hut made of branches on the grass?

Scott limps toward the vine curtain. It feels like his knee got injured again (it feels like his legs are stumps of aching wood), just like it did when he was in the dungeon and fWhip kicked it, and if this is the afterlife shouldn't his body be healed?

He draws the vines to the side, his hand trembling, and steps out into the sunlight.

This is a proper camp, he notices first of all, shielding his eyes from the sun. There are several more huts made of tree branches, and plenty of tents and lean-tos set up. People mill about, cooking over open fires between tents, sharpening weapons, scraping at animal skins. A child sprints by in front of him, bare feet pounding against the ground, another child not far behind.

They look. . . .

They look, for the most part, like Cod. There's a couple of people here and there who clearly aren't—they lack the distinctive scales and fins, but they don't seem out of place, cooking and eating and working with the rest of them.

The camp is set up in the clearing of—of a swampy forest, it looks like. There are small pools of murky water here and there, the leaves of the trees hanging low and weighed down with vines. The camp stretches far, too far to properly tell where it ends, and Scott finds himself wondering just how many people are here.

"Oh! You're awake!"

Scott turns to find a teenage girl beside him, earfins flicking curiously. She's clearly Cod, scales spreading outward from her nose like freckles and mousy brown hair pulled into an intricate braid, and she smiles brightly at him.

"Don't tell him I wasn't with you when you woke up, okay? I'll go get him."

And with that, she walks away, leaving Scott to flounder for a moment before deciding to follow her.

Walking is absolutely not his strong suit right now—which would make sense, he was thrown off a cliff—but he limps behind her, doing his best not to lose her.

She weaves between a group sharing out bowls of some sort of porridge—Scott's stomach growls—then past four or five children drawing with sticks in the dirt.

Scott goes to sweep his hair out of his eyes, only to find it already pulled back—into a braid, and feeling with his fingers he can't even tell which sections of his hair are tied into which. He doesn't have very long hair, but it's somehow been so well done that there aren't any loose strands.

Who braided his hair?

And whoever had hadn't washed it first, he notices, wiping a bit of grime from his hand on whatever it is he's wearing—and at least that's familiar, torn and dirty black mourning clothes. Not that he expects someone to wash his hair while he's unconscious. That would be odd.

How long has he been unconscious? How was he so out of it that even braiding his hair didn't wake him?

How is he alive?

He can't be alive. He shouldn't be alive. He died, didn't he?

The girl gets fairly far ahead, but she pauses, talking to an elderly man for a moment, who points to the left. She follows his pointed finger, and Scott follows her.

It comes to his attention that he doesn't really know who he's being led to. He could be a prisoner here and have no idea, this could be his death.

If he isn't already dead, that is.

He's still unclear on that front.

And then the girl goes around a tent, and Scott goes around it as well, and there's a circle of Cod there, pointing at a map and talking and planning something, presumably.

And Scott sees—

His jaw drops.

No.

This isn't—it isn't possible, it can't be—

Right there—on the other side of the circle, frowning a little bit, scratching at the beard that he hadn't had before—

Jimmy.

Beautiful, perfect Jimmy.

He looks different. He has a beard, for one—not at all long or very thick, but not patchy either, short and even. His hair is a bit longer than Scott remembers, pushed back behind his ears—one of which is half missing, part of the fin cut cleanly off. There's a sword strapped onto his back, the hilt visible above his shoulder.

He looks the same, though. That's his sharp jawline, that's his golden hair (lighter than it was last time he saw it, he knows that somehow, he can tell that Jimmy's been out on the sun), that's the way his brow furrows when he's trying to figure out a problem, it's Jimmy through and through in all the intimate ways that Scott knows him and it can't be.

It's Jimmy. It's really him.

Jimmy's dead. Jimmy was killed by Mythland, buried in a mass grave, the Codlands fallen under Sausage's rule. That isn't him. That can't be him.

Then Jimmy looks up, his eyes (and he sees, wavering in and out, desperate and beautiful brown eyes) meeting Scott's.

"You're awake!" he says, crossing over to him in a couple of long strides, as the people behind him fall back into conversation.

Jimmy.

Jimmy is coming very very close to him, very very quickly.

He takes Scott by the hands, and Scott pulls away at his burning touch, he hasn't been touched in over a month, not in any sort of tenderness, he doesn't know how to handle it—he almost falls over backward, his stomach swooping as his legs are too weak to account for pulling away—and in a smooth action, Jimmy catches him around the waist, sets him back upright.

Scott can only blink at him.

"Hey," Jimmy says softly. "Let's get you back to your bed, all right? We can get you something to eat, and . . . and I'll explain."

There's a lot of explaining for him to do. Scott's honestly almost convinced that he really did die, despite his pain, because Jimmy's dead, and if Jimmy's dead and he's with Jimmy, he's dead too.

But he follows Jimmy back down the same path the girl had taken, bare feet stumbling and body numb.

Jimmy stops in front of a pot of whatever the porridge is that Scott had seen earlier and scoops up a bowl of it. Scott watches, watches his arm move, watches the way his back stiffens when he bends over, then straightens as he stands, the sword strapped there shifting ever so slightly.

This can't be real. None of this can be real. It's been a month—it's been longer than a month, he thinks, since they got the news that Jimmy was dead and he would have to go on without his betrothed, and every morning was a struggle to get out of his lonely bed and every day was a struggle to not break down in front of everyone and every night he cried himself to sleep and Jimmy's just here.

It can't be real.

That pain can't be for nothing.

Jimmy draws back the vine curtain of the hut when they arrive, loops it up on a handy twig above the doorway to keep it open. Then he sits on the edge of the cot, pats the space beside him.

Scott sits. He can't help but stare at Jimmy—he thinks it's Jimmy, and not some trick. Why would a trick add a beard, or bother to lengthen his hair that little bit? The scars where his scales had been (tugged out by the pull of the Void in the End) glimmer here and there, and as Scott looks closer, he realizes that new scales are beginning to push through the scar tissue.

A trick wouldn't give him that.

This can't be real.

Jimmy sets the bowl in Scott's hands, warmth spreading to them near-instantly. "We don't have very many spoons, sorry," he apologizes. "I'll whittle you one if I get a free moment."

With no other way to react, Scott raises the bowl to his lips and drinks.

It's different than he expects—he doesn't recognize the grain, something a bit chunkier than he anticipated, and it's savory, likely flavored with boiled-down fat. Scott can't tell if it's meant to be a breakfast or a supper, and he doesn't really like the slight chewiness, but it's warm and feels good on his throat and in his empty stomach.

This can't be real.

How is any of this real?

"I really missed you, Scott," Jimmy says quietly after a moment, and Scott starts. He hadn't forgotten that Jimmy was there, per se, but he hadn't quite made up his mind about whether or not he was a hallucination. "I wanted to go to you, but . . . it wasn't time yet."

Time yet? Time for what? It wasn't time for his fiancé to contact him to let him know that he wasn't dead?

Unless they're both dead. And this is the afterlife. 

But the longer Scott is awake, the less it feels like the afterlife.

"It's difficult to explain," Jimmy says when Scott doesn't respond. "But I've been out here for a while, now. We're leading a rebellion against Mythland, actually. We have a whole system going—fighters, spies, people who have volunteered to stay in the towns to ferry out runaways. We just launched an attack last week that got us fifty new rebels, actually, it was huge. It did kind of give away that we aren't just a little group of refugees, but some sort of organized force, but we couldn't keep totally hidden for long. I mean, we have almost a hundred able fighters, and—"

"You died," Scott interrupts, his voice a croak. "Sorry, but—you died. I can't—how?"

Jimmy bites his lip, one hand twisting his trousers. "It's a long story."

He doesn't look at Scott. He doesn't even look at him.

Scott takes another sip of the porridge, barely managing to swallow around the lump in his throat. His eyes are burning, tears welling up. Jimmy was dead. Jimmy was dead, people saw him die, he—this isn't something that can be explained away!

"Tell it, then."

Jimmy looks at him, now—straight in the eye, and Scott never thought he'd see those beautiful brown eyes again—

"Okay."

-

Jimmy's shaking.

He can't stop, even as Pix gets a fire going. Even as Pix drapes a blanket over his shoulders. Even as Pix puts a cup of something warm in his hand.

"Does it still hurt?"

Jimmy nods. Of course it still hurts, he was stabbed several times and he died and he doesn't know how he's here—

"Well, you woke yourself up fairly well, so it should heal quickly," Pix tells him. "Drink that. You'll feel better."

No, he won't. He can still feel the steel parting his flesh, the cold grasp of death, the blurriness and the fuzziness and he died—

He wants to know how Pix is here. How Pix knew what to do. How he isn't actively dead.

But he can't make himself speak. He can't find the strength to open his mouth.

Pix takes the blanket away with a word of warning, lightly touches his upper back, right around the stab wound.

Jimmy flinches forward, whimpers when the movement sends jolts of pain down his entire abdomen, following the path that he can so vividly remember the sword taking in his body.

"Sorry," Pix mumbles, but doesn't pull his hands away, tracing around the wound and down his back.

It hurts. It hurts to touch, it hurts to move, he shouldn't be conscious let alone alive, all he knows is that some force beyond himself had given him the strength to heave himself out of the pile of bloated bodies and stumble out of town, walking through endless blurred fields until Pix appeared beside him and supported him with an arm around his waist, led him into a cove of trees.

And more than anything, it hurts.

"Do you need water to heal?" Pix asks, a clear frown in his voice, and Jimmy has no idea how to answer that. Water to heal? Heal how?

He just stays still, staring into the fire.

He should be dead. He was dead. Why isn't he dead? Why isn't he dead?

He's still shaking. He's cold, he hasn't stopped being cold since he died, he didn't die because he's still here but he died—

"Drink that," admonishes Pix, setting the blanket back on him. "You nearly died, you need your strength."

"I did die," Jimmy manages, too-loud, too-loud in his echoing, stinging ear. "I—I died, I don't—"

"Not quite," Pix corrects, sitting cross-legged on the ground before Jimmy. "Your flame certainly flickered out a few times, but I kept the embers alive. Long enough that you began to heal."

That doesn't make sense. That isn't how the body works, Jimmy shouldn't have healed at all, he was dead—and how would Pix know any of this?

Pix shifts, frowns. "You've seen the Candles of Pixandria, yes?"

He has. Pix brought him there once, three or four years ago. A seemingly endless cave under the desert, filled with candles, a dry fountain at the center with a special candle set out for each of the emperors.

"They represent the lives of all of the people of the Empires," Pix says, and Jimmy vaguely remembers him saying that before. "When a candle goes out, that life has passed on."

"How do the candles get there?" Jimmy finds himself whispering—more to distract himself than anything else, he doesn't really have the interest, everything just hurts and he can't bear to think about it any longer.

"A good question," Pix says. "I put them there. And when it is time for a person to pass on, I put out the flame. Think of me as a . . . steward. And I have been watching your candle all day and night, fanning the embers, coaxing it into holding on."

Embers. So his candle had gone out. He had died. Or—or almost died, maybe? 

He tries to take a deep breath, bites his lip to keep a noise from escaping when his insides scream in pain. He was stabbed in the shoulder, the blade missing bone and slicing through the muscle and tendons there; his ear was partly chopped off; his thigh was slashed open, cutting a major artery and sending his blood spewing everywhere; he was skewered by a sword, going in just below his shoulder and all the way down his body, passing down through his ribcage, piercing all sorts of vital organs in its path. Short of slitting his throat, all that could be done to kill him had been done.

And it all still hurts. His left arm is still mostly useless; his ear stings and all sound on his left side echoes oddly; his thigh still bleeds sluggishly against his drying trousers; he can feel that his organs definitely aren't doing well. He's probably bleeding internally, actually. That would explain the throbbing pain in his stomach, the coppery taste in his mouth.

It doesn't feel like it's getting any better from when he was killed. It almost—it definitely feels worse, the aching cold beginning to bite.

"Drink that," Pix tells him a third time. "It's just broth, with some herbs for pain. You can have a healing potion once your innards properly begin to heal on their own."

Jimmy would drink it, but he thinks he might throw up said innards if he lets anything into his injured stomach right now.

He shakes his head just the slightest bit. "Can't," he forces out between gritted teeth as another wave of pain hits. "Hurts."

"It's going to hurt, but you need to continue healing. This should help take some of the sting away, give you a bit of warmth."

Right, then. He should probably try to drink it. He owes that to Pix, who apparently somehow saved him.

But as he goes to lift the mug to his lips, it slips from his trembling fingers and falls to the ground, spilling hot broth all over his waterlogged boots.

Pix is saying something, picking up the mug, but Jimmy doesn't hear it. He just stares down at the ground where the broth is soaking into the earth and tries not to cry.

It all hurts so bad. He can barely even think. He shouldn't be alive.

He shouldn't be alive, clinging to this painful not-quite-life, it's a disservice to keep him alive at this point and he just wants to lie down—let the cold take him again—

"—Jimmy? Jimmy? Right, I'm going to pick you up, and we're going to find you some water."

Then there's arms around him, lifting him up, and Jimmy can't hold back the cry of pain as his insides slosh together unpleasantly.

"Shh," a voice soothes. "Sorry if I drop you—I'm sure Scott can lift you just fine, six-foot-something elf and all that—but those of us not quite there might struggle—"

Scott.

Jimmy really, really wants Scott. Just to hold his hand while he drifts off. Just to be here. Just to love him in his last moments.

And then, before he can fully give in to the darkness, head slumping and eyes fluttering shut, he's laid carefully in water.

His gills flap open and Jimmy sighs a little, relaxing into the soothing hold of the water. It feels nice, so very nice against his wounds, cold but not in the way that the darkness is cold—caring, homey, like Scott, like Lizzie.

His head tilts back, pressing into the mud a bit. Last time he got mud in his hair, Scott was jokingly annoyed. He had sighed and shaken his head and clearly tried not to laugh.

He misses Scott.

It hurts less, now. Jimmy opens his eyes, takes in the water's surface just above him, the blurry face of Pix looking down at him.

Then he closes his eyes again, suddenly too tired to care. He could just fall asleep here, despite the pain.

And maybe he does. He isn't really sure. He just knows that he closes his eyes for a very long time, and when he opens them, his entire body feels heavy.

He's underwater, which is nice. He likes being underwater. Sun is filtering in through the surface, the sky bright blue above him.

He doesn't usually take midday naps in the shallows. What brought him here?

He died.

He died, didn't he?

Jimmy sits up, head breaking the surface, and bites his tongue to keep from crying out as the breath is stolen from his chest.

His body hurts. Hurts bad.

He remembers . . . everything. Every wound he suffered, the end that he finally accepted.

He thinks, though, that these wounds used to hurt more.

Jimmy lifts his arm, tests its range of motion. His shoulder still hurts, but he can move his arm, which is nice. It feels almost good to stretch, but he's careful about it, not wanting to push it and reopen the wound that surely still exists.

His thigh looks all right, though, from what he can tell past the hole in his trousers. 

He prods at his stomach, hisses between his teeth at how sore it feels. Right. That one's still bad. Not like it was, though. He thinks, as painful as it is, his insides have somehow stitched themselves back together.

"There we are. Feeling better?"

Jimmy starts; looks up. Pix is sitting under the shade of a nearby willow tree, looking almost relaxed. He stands when Jimmy sees him, dusting off his hands.

"You're practically healed, now, so if you'd like to come out of the water, you can."

Practically healed?

From death?

He doesn't understand.

It still hurts. It's not like it really feels too much better.

But he pushes himself to his feet anyways, leans on Pix's arm when it's offered, clutching his left arm around his stomach as if to hold it together. His abdomen feels uncomfortably warm inside, almost over-full in a strange way, and it doesn't seem unreasonable that his organs might burst out of his skin if he moves the wrong way.

"You slept the rest of the night and for part of the day," Pix tells him, as they begin their slow walk back to wherever it is they're going from this clear little pond in the middle of the woods. "You almost died again, I'm sorry for not noticing sooner—I thought you'd be fine after the distance you walked—"

"Roll it back," Jimmy says through gritted teeth, his thigh smarting and stomach panging with each jostling step. "Why are you here? What happened?"

Pix hums. "I'm here to save you, and to pass something on to you. Something you can probably put to far better use than I can."

Save him. Rather nice of one his allies to try and save him, if it is rather belated. He likes it when his friends care about him.

His steps are uneven, right foot falling heavier than the left as he leans a bit more of his weight on Pix. He could really do with a health potion right about now.

At least he doesn't feel cold, now. That's a good sign, right? And it doesn't really feel like his body's falling apart from the inside anymore, which has to be good.

"The Codlands," says Jimmy after a moment, just trying to keep his mind on something other than the pain. "What happened?"

"Mythland won," Pix says, a little blunt but not at all unkind. "Your soldiers fought for far longer than they ought to have."

Jimmy feels a surge of pride, despite knowing that Pix is right. Fighting past the end of the battle just means that more of his people died, probably too many to support the land as it is. But they had defended their country even when it seemed utterly hopeless, and Jimmy knows that whatever the afterlife is like, they'll receive welcome.

Like that one soldier had told him. Unless that was a dream. He could have imagined that. His . . . the end, there, is a bit foggy.

He's pulled out of his thoughts as they arrive at a small, vaguely familiar clearing with the remnants of a fire in the center, a log for a seat beside it, something long wrapped in cloth beside a pack leaning against the nearest tree.

Pix helps him sit on the log, easing him down slowly, which is surprisingly less painful (though still quite painful) than expected. Jimmy just tries to situate himself while breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He's fine. He died but he's fine. He's going to be fine.

Holy moly, he hurts.

Pix goes over to the bag, rummages through it. "Right," he says over his shoulder to Jimmy. "I have got a health potion, if you want it. And also. . . ." his hand hovers over the long, covered item.

And Jimmy, despite everything, feels curiosity spark.

-

Scott waits.

Jimmy doesn't continue, seemingly lost in thought, staring at the grass.

"Well?" he says after a few long moments. "What was it?"

Jimmy starts a little, looks back up. "Oh, uh, this sword," he says, gesturing to his back, where the sword is belted. The hilt looks old, so old that the leather of the handle is stained almost grey, wearing thin in places. "It's pretty cool. It's got some kind of enchantments or something, but we haven't figured out what yet."

"Oh," Scott says, for lack of anything better to say. Then, "Are you feeling better?"

"Like it never happened!" Jimmy says cheerfully, but the tight lines around his eyes say otherwise. "The scars haven't gone away, yet—you can look if you want."

This is all so much. So very, very much.

"So," Scott says slowly, "you . . . died?"

It hurts to say. He wants to cry so badly, even though Jimmy's alive and here and he mourned him for so long but he's actually here so he can stop crying.

Jimmy shrugs. "Not exactly? I thought I was . . . er, dead, but apparently I was kind of in a really deep hibernation?”

"And then—what, you just miraculously healed?"

"I don't really understand that part yet, either. But I guess I just have some kind of healing magic, now? Because I can use it, not just on me—I healed a woman who broke her leg, just put my hands over the break and she was good—and I healed you, too! When you washed up!"

It doesn't make sense.

People don't just magically gain healing powers, unless in some defiant act of deus ex machina they rewrite their ending. Jimmy can't have died.

But he did die. Jimmy died. He says he went into hibernation, he says that Pix kept his candle alive, but if he didn't die then why did Scott mourn?

He doesn't want Jimmy to be dead, of course. That's—well, it's just ridiculous. He loves Jimmy, of course he wants him alive. He wants Jimmy here, he's happy that he's here!

None of it makes sense, though.

He just can't put it together. It doesn't fit in his head, it doesn't work. He can't look at his beloved right there beside him (so close he can feel his warmth, can almost sense his chest rising and falling in very real breaths) and know that he's been alive this whole time.

Jimmy, apparently, died? But didn't die. And instead of going to Scott, he's been leading a secret forest rebellion? No communication with him at all? Not even two words? No “I'm alive”?

Scott had waited so long those first couple of days, waiting for news that Jimmy had managed to escape, waiting for Jimmy to just walk through the door. It hadn't happened, and he'd accepted that it never would.

He had sailed across the ocean, heart grim.

He had dressed in black for the first time in years.

He had sat there as Sausage spewed such vile things, spoke of Jimmy as nothing more than the dirt he walked on.

He had sobbed. He had grieved. He had come to face the fact that he would never see his beloved ever again, even denied a final sight at the memorial. He had mourned, and changed, and borne this grievous burden alone.

Yet here Jimmy is.

And here Scott is, beside him, still dressed in the torn remnants of his sorrow.

Softly, carefully, Jimmy lays a hand on his knee.

Scott shifts his leg away.

Jimmy quickly pulls his hands back together in his lap.

And it isn't—

It isn't that Scott doesn't still love Jimmy. He very, very much does. He's still in love with him. He doesn't know that he would be able to stop.

But he doesn't know what to do here, in this strange moment alone with his dead fiancé after mourning him for so long.

"I know it's a lot," Jimmy says after a long moment. "I don't really know what's going on out there. But now that you're here—we can go to Rivendell, and, and we can take back the Codlands! With my rebels, and your armies—or—"

"We can't," interrupts Scott, too loud.

He hadn't thought of Rivendell yet.

It's surely been conquered by now, hasn't it? After all, he silently encouraged them to surrender.

Jimmy's hands drop from where he's begun gesturing. "What?"

"We can't," Scott says, and there are sudden tears in his eyes as he remembers the absolute despair that he'd felt on that clifftop.

He'd been so alone.

He'd been so certain that he was going to die.

He'd been cast from the cliff, knowing that at least if he died he wouldn't have to feel such pain.

For some reason, he's still here.

After failing.

"Rivendell surrendered,” he says hollowly. “The other countries will probably follow."

"Sorry, what?"

"Rivendell surrendered," Scott repeats himself. "I—I couldn't stop Xornoth. I tried. I swear I tried—" and it's all coming out, spilling from him like tar, sticky and burning— "I thought I was Aeor's Champion, and I found both of the artifacts, and I tried to fight Xornoth. But it didn't work, he beat me, and I couldn't let anyone die, so we surrendered—we—and—and Xornoth rules Rivendell now, and probably the rest of the world soon."

Jimmy doesn't answer for a long moment.

Scott doesn't dare look at him, eyes on his lap, on the bowl of porridge that he doesn't feel hungry enough to finish.

They lost.

It's basically over.

And it's all his fault.

"Did that . . . did that give you ice magic?"

Scott blinks, glances around. The grass has frosted over, icicles hanging from the ceiling of the hut.

What?

"Did the boots come with me?" Scott asks. He sets the bowl down and stands, gripping his arms around himself. He'd forgotten about the whole ice problem—he froze Gem, he might have killed her, he has to message her and see if she's all right—

Jimmy frowns. "We found you barefoot. What boots?"

Then why. . . ?

It can't follow him. Did it follow him?

Then he remembers—his room was always frozen, even when he moved to other rooms they froze too, the boots all the while in the Codmade bag in his bedroom.

The ice had followed him, not the boots. It always had.

Great. So now he's cursed, because he put on the magical boots without checking to see if they had a warning label. Wonderful. He's just . . . so happy about this.

And Jimmy's just sitting there, looking up at him with that adorable little crease between his eyes, and he should be dead—

Scott runs.

He slips a bit on the frozen grass but just keeps running, he ignores Jimmy calling after him, out of the hut and away from the camp, running and running through the woods until there's an angry stitch in his side and his body hurts too much to keep pushing.

He collapses on the ground up against a tree trunk, burying his face into his knees. He can't do this.

He can't do this! He's tried all his life to do everything right, be the perfect little firstborn prince that everyone expected him to be. Through his younger brother constantly trying to kill him for the throne, through his parents passing away from an unexpected illness, through the entire courtship mess, through the death of his fiancé, through the battle preparations, Scott has done his absolute best to be perfect! And so far, he's done pretty well, he'd say! He hasn't been perfect, by any means, but he's been good enough, and now he's properly failed for the first time and he doesn't have any clue of how to go forward, especially when said failure was so monumental that his entire country fell under enemy rule because of it!

He was supposed to die. He should have died, rather than live in his failure!

Scott sobs into his knees (and the tears freeze on his cheeks)—they lost, everything is lost, and he hurt so long and so terribly and now he has to hurt even more.

It's all just too much. That's all it is.

He's happy he's alive. He's happy Jimmy's alive.

Right?

It would be easier if. . . .

And how can they even continue on like this? What can even come next? It's not like Scott can defeat Xornoth. Nobody can. Alinar's ritual failed.

He failed. Scott's the first ever hero who actually failed, full stop, and now he has to face the consequences of that without any prior reference for how to do so.

Not to mention, he hasn't bathed in who knows how long, he's wearing dirty and bloodstained mourning clothes that hang from his shoulders like axe hangs above a prisoner's neck, his wing is itching to be free from whatever binding it's wrapped in, his entire body aches, and he's so tired.

It's too much! He can't do this!

Where even is he? Out in some wood somewhere, with bugs and dirt and rudimentary camps, where he doesn't have anything or anyone—

His ears twitch at the sudden sound of soft footsteps, and he quickly stifles his crying. Nobody needs to hear that.

But the footsteps get closer and closer, until they pause just before him, and whoever it is crouches down near him.

"Don't get close to me," Scott gasps out, valiantly ignoring the stuffy quality of his voice.

He's not sure if it's because he doesn't want to be touched, or because he doesn't want to hurt someone by accident. He can't control the ice—he already hurt Gem, he can't hurt anyone else, he can't let anyone close!

"I won't."

Jimmy.

Gentle, perfect Jimmy.

Jimmy, who Scott can't stop feeling strange about because he ought to be dead, but isn't.

Just like Scott ought to be dead, and yet isn't.

Maybe. . . .

"Would it have been better," Scott manages around the lump in his throat, "if we were both dead? And—and in a happy afterlife together?"

A happy afterlife that doesn't, of course, exist. Scott knows what awaits him at the end of this, and it isn't Jimmy.

But he can let himself believe in it, if only for a moment.

Scott hears a bit of rustling, as if Jimmy shifts against the ground.

"I can't say I haven't thought that," Jimmy says eventually, something reluctant in his voice. "I—I spared you the details, Scott, but . . . it was rough. Dying, fully dying—and then hours later, there I am, being forced to live again? I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Scott basically died, too. But he doesn't think it was as bad for him as it was for Jimmy. All that happened for him is he passed out when he hit the water. Jimmy felt his life bleed out of him, went cold and stiff, felt his heart beating slower and slower until it became too slow for him to hold on to consciousness.

Scott can't imagine how hard that must have been.

It doesn't make him feel any better. Worse, actually.

Jimmy suffered all that, and didn't need Scott's support.

Whereas Scott would have given anything just to see Jimmy one last time.

"It was really, really hard. It still is, sometimes. But I know that if you and I are both still alive, and here, and together, after everything? Maybe . . . maybe we're supposed to do something big. You know?"

Jimmy might be meant to do something big, but Scott kind of feels like he's only alive by chance. Clearly he isn't that favored of Aeor, seeing as he couldn't use the artifacts and is now cursed with ice magic.

He doesn't feel like he has any sort of divine purpose. He doesn't feel like he's alive for a reason.

He's just here.

A failure.

A failure that shouldn't be alive.

"That's what I like to think, anyway," Jimmy continues. "It gives me something. A reason to keep going. I mean, if you think about it, I shouldn't be alive. But I'm here, and that means I have something left to do. I have to do good with the new time I have."

That's . . . that's something. Right?

He's here. By chance, maybe, but he's here.

Perhaps he can do a little good?

Nothing world-changing. He can't stop Xornoth. He can't free Rivendell. He can't even free himself from this curse.

"I can't control the ice," Scott warns, lifting his head a little. He doesn't look up enough to see more than Jimmy's boots, worn and dirt-encrusted. "I can't . . . I can't do it. There are a lot of problems, and I don't know how to solve any of them."

"I know," Jimmy says softly. "I'm here."

Jimmy's here.

Jimmy is here.

Okay.

If—if Jimmy's somehow, miraculously here, and he thinks they can do something good, maybe Scott can try.

"Okay," he says, staring hard at Jimmy's boots. "But—but nobody can come close to me until I figure this ice thing out."

He thinks of how his room never defrosted.

He thinks of how cold he's been lately.

He thinks of Gem lying limp on the ground, hair white.

"Nobody," he repeats. "Nobody can come close. I'm sorry, it's just—I can't hurt anyone else."

"I know," Jimmy says again. "Whatever you need."

"I need to be separated," Scott says immediately. "A—a tent, or something, away from everyone else. Will that work?"

"We'll set one up right here," decides Jimmy. "What else?"

"Nobody comes over here."

"Okay."

"Nobody," Scott emphasizes, for perhaps the billionth time, and finally, he drags his eyes up to meet Jimmy's.

Those beautiful, soft, loving brown eyes.

"Not even you," he forces himself to say. "I'm sorry."

Jimmy doesn't argue. "I'll do whatever you need," he says, maintaining the eye contact. "I just want to help."

There's nothing else, then. That's all he needs from Jimmy. Solitude.

It hurts. He doesn't want to push Jimmy away, after so long of believing him gone forever.

But there's a discrepancy, there. There's pain and grief and confusion and maybe a little anger between Jimmy right here and Scott's need for him.

He doesn't know how to reconcile all of those feelings with the living dead man in front of him.

He doesn't think things between them can just go back to normal.

Everything would be a lot easier if they had both died. There wouldn't be any false loss to mourn, no results of utter failure to live with.

But he's here, and Jimmy's here, and maybe he's right.

Maybe there's something important they need to do.

[cat-angel-936]

The villains plan part 3 and End

(The character Violet is not mine, it is @jokerislandgirl32 ) (al fin termine con esto 🥲)

Zach: why did they bring the blue boy!? *very upset*

*Maria and Martin looking at each other strangely*

Maria: is this normal? *whisper*

Martin: more or less, but don't worry, you won't get used to it *serious*

Donita: why Martino's long face? *strokes my head like a dog*

Maria: *giggles*

Donita: And tell me, *stops her and analyzes her*, what is a pretty girl doing living alone in the middle of the forest?

María: I'm not alone, my grandparents and uncle come from time to time

Gourmound: and your parents...oh!

Maria: Could we not talk about them? *sad*

Zach: don't calm down...*covers his face in annoyance* Zachbots, take the ureña girl and the blue boy

*the zachbots grab them and take them away*

Zach: okay, don't mention anything about her parents and let's make that stupid call.

...

Martin:....

María:....*I feel, I feel a dangerous pressure in this place and it doesn't seem like the future of those guys, but...*

Martin: What are you thinking?

María: ah, I notice you're upset

Martin: nonsense, I'm never angry, they consider me the fun brother *turns away annoyed*

María: yes, it looks vast

Martin: I mean it! *someone is heard entering* Eh?

Violet: Are you okay girl? Zach told me that they brought a girl for an evil plan and that *with a tray of food*

Martin: hello Violet *friendly*

Violet: ah hello Martin, I didn't think you'd be here * leaves the tray next to María and sits next to her * hello, my name is Violet and you? *ignoring Martin*

María: My name is María, a pleasure *the atmosphere has changed quickly, it is much more pleasant, that's good* *smiles*

....

Chris: Maria? Where are you Maria!? *searching in the garden*

Kris: *sniffing* how strange the trace of her is lost at this point... and it smells like metal?

Chris: Metal?

Pandy: *sniff* that seems like it...

Chris: That means

Aviva: hello Chris, we're here, and Maria?

Koki: aww these are the dogs? How cute *strokes them*

Kris: *barks*

Pandy: *allows herself to be caressed*

Jimmy: yes, very cute *he also caresses them*

Aviva: but they don't look like the ones I saw, they're bigger

Chris: Maria has more dogs, but something happened, Maria was because she heard one of her dogs running away from her and she is no longer there.

Aviva: Is she gone? What if her dog went to the forest and she is looking for him?

Hasper: *bark*

Chris: I don't think so...

*ring sound*

Koki: it's Martin *answers* hello Martin, we're here, although we have a problem....Zach!?

Chris: What are you doing with my brother Zach's communicator!?

Zach: Yes, I must admit that this wasn't in my thoughts, but since I had the opportunity...Look what we have! *shows Maria talking to Violet*

Chris: Maria! Let her go! *takes Koki's communicator*

Kris: *growls*

Aviva: and how do we know it's not another trap?

Zach: I'm not cheap enough to use a trick twice.

Martin:...

Violet:...

Donita:...

Gourmound:...

Chris:....

Aviva: *raises an eyebrow*

Zach: well yes, but this is not the case *somewhat embarrassed*.....Whatever! Just go look for them if you come across green boy! *hangs up* And why didn't you defend me!?

Gourmound: why would we defend the indefensible?

...

Chris: shit *stomps and pats a cabbage*...

Pandy and Kris:....*barking*

Chris: sorry...*embarrassed* Aviva we have to do something

Aviva: I know, I think we can track the call location, koki?

Koki: that's what I'm doing, Chris, I think you could get ahead of yourself.

Jimmy: What a price *faints*

Aviva: Jimmy, not now! Uh...here Chris, your animal suit we'll catch up to you in a moment

Chris: good *puts it on and runs off, being followed by the alpha couple*

Pandy: we will go with you

Kris: we will not allow them to hurt María

Chris: good! *takes the wolf's power disk* and since you are wolves the disk will work, place disk, touch the wolf *touches Kris* activate animal power *activates the suit and transforms into a wolf but it is something different than usual* ah ? It looks different...

Pandy: wow you look amazing!

Kris: If that means you will fight then let's continue *starts running*

Chris: Yes! *follows him along with Pandy*

...

María: *my feelings...I smell Kris and Pandy and I notice a horrible mint smell, it must be from Chris.*... *sniffs Martin* you smell like the sea

Martin: really? *sniffs* I don't smell anything

Maria: ah, it's just that from living in the forest so much my senses have become sharper and I can perceive the natural smells of people *smiles nervously*

Violet: Seriously, what do I smell like?

Maria: *sniffs* you smell like...lavender

Violet: wow hey Zach *takes his arm* what does Zach smell like?

Zach: huh? What are you doing honey? *confused and embarrassed*

Violet: shh...I want to know what your natural smell is

Maria: *sniffing* Zach smells like....*gets confused and sniffs again* tomato sauce? No....it is taken mixed with metal

Gourmound: now, now I *get*

María: *rolls her eyes and sniffs* do you smell like...dog hair?

Gourmound: It must be because of the Nasal Fossa, I also have a dog, you know?

Maria: That makes sense.

Donita: I also want to know what I smell like.

María: good, you smell like *sniffs* petunias

Donita: oh, it's a pretty flower with the prettiest color in the world.

Martin: the blue one?

Donita: don't talk nonsense

María: the truth is, pink is prettier

Donita: do you like pink too? *surprised*

María: of course, that's why I have a pink bus

Donita: mh I think you and I will get along well.

Martin:....*damn, what was missing!* if only I could let go...

...

Aviva: Chris we already have the coordinates and...what happened to the wolf suit? Why does it look so different? *confused*

Chris: uh...didn't you modify it?

Aviva: no...

Chris: well we can see it later, now to rescue María and Martin *hangs up*

Kris: *sniffs* I can smell Maria, it's over here

Chris: fine, I'll follow you.

Pandy: I ​​see that you trust nitrous more than that stop of yours

Chris: well, you know this forest better and you also have a better sense of smell and hearing than me.

Pandy: aw I feel flattered human

Kris: I think it's that weird ship over there *whisper*

Pandy: *peeks out a little and sniffs* yes, I smell several smells there, it would be best if we stop talking *whispers*

Chris: *looks out too* yes, in fact that is Zach's plane

Kris: It seems that you know him better.

Chris: ah...yes, I've also been kidnapped several times but my friends and brother saved me, so I'm familiar hehe *saddened*

Kris: good, we follow you

*Chris nods and gives the order to move forward*

Chris: Zach! Release Maria and Martin now! *demanded*

Kris/Pandy: *growl*

Maria: Kris, Pandy! *emotional*

Martin: Brother! *emotional*

Violet: huh? *looks to the side*

Zach: Oh wow... *excited inside: "yes"*

Gourmound: he really looks angry

Donita: *Aviva shined in that update* *impressed*

Zach: And why should we?

Chris: *looking at Pandy and Kris* because otherwise they will have to endure the bites of two dogs who will have no qualms about defending their owner

María: it's true, it wouldn't be the first time someone has been bitten for defending me hehe

Martin: I'm not surprised that Huskies are not particularly guard dogs, if they see their owner in danger they would not last a second to defend him.

Gourmound: We'll see about that, blueberry *taking María by the ponytail*

Maria: Hey! Let go, that hurts! *tries to escape*

Kris: *Maria!* *lunges towards Gourmound and bites his arm causing him to let go of Maria*

Gourmound: ah damn mangy dog! *grabs him by the neck and throws him away*

Kris: *falls standing and grunted*

Donita: growling is not a good dog, you know, dear *uses her beam pose and paralyzes Kris* although I must say that she has a very pretty color, maybe you would be very useful for a stunned person, don't you think?

Pandy: *Oh no, you won't use it at all* *jumps up and types Donita*

Donita: Hey! *releases control of beam pose*

Pandy: *growls*

Martin: calm down friend, I'll get you out of that state * the troll fell near Martin so he was able to take it and free Kris *

Kris: *stops being under the control of that pink ray and goes to María to pamper the ropes*

Maria: Kris, are you okay? Pandy? *the two dogs hug her* aww I'm fine don't worry*

Chris: *releases Martin* is everyone okay?

Martin: yes, don't worry, it'll be better to get out of here

Zach: no, not that, that dog bit Gourmound and the other tackled Donita very hard and they are going to pay for it, Zachbots!

*Zachbots surround the three humans and the two animals ready to attack*

Maria: what's the plan?

Martin: I don't have my suit now.

Chris: don't worry, I'll take care of it *I hope this isn't just a redesign of the suit and has something else*

*Chris launches himself against a Zachbot that was drinking Asia and manages to destroy it with a green sarpaze*

Martin/Chris: wow!

Martin: that improvement is incredible! When did Aviva make that update!? *impressed*

Chris: eh... actually she didn't do it, we don't know yet why she did it hehe * sorry *

Martin: Then we'll find out later.

Maria: Chris, be careful!

Chris: huh? *a Zachbot was going to attack Chris but Maria took one of the remains of the previous robot and sent that Zachbot away causing it to collide with another and destroy themselves when they hit the wall*

Maria: are you okay? *worried*

Chris: yes.... *red*

Kris/Martin:.....*because this is happening....* *look at each other*

Martin: this one...*coughs* you really have strength

María: oh yes, working in the garden strengthens you *flexes arm* *excuse*

Chris: * takes his brother from his shoulder to attack the Zachbot that was heading towards him * we have to find a way to escape

Pandy: *barks and signs to see that the villains are targeting the chef's arm*

Martin: They are distracted, and the door seems to be uncovered

Chris: you guys go ahead, I'll distance you a little so you can escape.

Maria: are you sure?

Chris: don't worry, I'll be fine *smiles*

María: it's fine *blushes*

Martin: *taking María by the shoulders* let's better go before they notice, good luck brother *runs away with the other two animals*

Kris: *if you asked me which of the two I like the least, I wouldn't know how to decide*

Chris: *oh brother....* *drops a drop of sweat*

* Chris begins to destroy two others who were about to reach the rest and once he sees that his brother, María and the dogs are outside, he escapes from there and everyone runs away *

*already with the rest in María's cabin*

Aviva: It's good that everything turned out well.

María: yes, I'm sorry they had to save me *saddened*

Jimmy: Don't worry, you could say she's part of our job *takes a bite of her salad*

Hasper: *barks*

Koki: yes, also the time with your dogs has been wonderful, they behave very well, or not cute *pets Hasper*

María: haha ​​yes, generally they behave well and...Razo!

Razo: *with a watermelon on his head* rau...

María: I told you not to the garden...*saddened*

Martin: you can tell that he is very polite hahaha

The rest: hahaha

Chris: haha ​​I'm sorry *embarrassed to laugh*

María: don't worry, it was a good joke...have Razo, let's go to the kitchen, I have to get that out of your head *starts leading him to the kitchen*

Chris: I'll help you *leaves with her*

Koki: aww it's cute to see Chris like this

Martin: I don't see how cute it is

Aviva/Koki/Jimmy: hahaha

*and that's how the rest of the team met María*

End

[onboardsorasora]

I'm firing on all cylinders today! I know its not day 9 but I really wanted to do this prompt. (also unedited)

Part 1 | Part 6

Part 7

F1 Flufftober Day 9 - Mistaken for a Couple

They were wandering around the city centre now, Daniel had asked to see more of Monaco and Max had asked if he wanted to hike. Daniel, of course, sang his yes because there was nothing more fun than prowling through nature.

Max didn’t realize or anticipate that this would include singing, lots of singing. And animals. Soon after they made it maybe halfway up the trail, Daniel had deviated into the forest eagerly. Max, anxious because he had literally just glimpsed through the trees what could have been a fox, a deer or a boar– he truly wasn’t sure, dashed after Daniel.

He climbed over small boulders and through some dense underbrush– who knew Monaco was so lush? Before coming to a stop before a large tree, he bent over and rested his palms on his knees panting. 

Daniel was– Daniel was humming, as evidenced by the unusually large flock of truly random birds that hovered above where he sat cross legged on the ground. There was a…weasel on his shoulder, peering down into his arms. Daniel looked up from whatever he was cuddling to grin broadly at Max who was dumbfounded.

So dumbfounded that he ended up taking a picture and sending it to his groupchat with Lando, Alex and Charles just to….capture…just to prove that he was actually seeing this. He needed confirmation that this truly wasn’t all just a fever dream. When the boys didn’t respond in shock or concern, he placed the phone back in his pocket.

Because, Max truly believed he was taking this whole thing….really well. All things considering. His current baseline state of being remained neutrally surprised. If that even was a thing.

“Max!” Daniel whisper shouted, not wanting to frighten whatever it was he was holding. “Come look!”

Max, helpless to Daniel, picked his way forward. Stepping lightly to avoid any smaller animals that were wandering underfoot. He saw a field mouse skitter away and made an apologetic sound. This was all mental. He was apologizing to a mouse!

Still, he got closer, stepping around a lounging deer that tilted its head for a scratch. Without even thinking about it….Max gave it a little scritch between its ears. The small happy noise in return made him smile.

Daniel gazed up at him from the ground in wonder and Max swallowed the lump in his throat. Daniel shifted his arms, his oversized sweatshirt sleeves parted like a lavender cocoon and Max’s eyes widened in delight at the sight of two snuffling fox kits. They were tiny things, just growing their red fur.

The hike had been derailed after that and they’d spent the next hour in that glade as Daniel gossiped with each of the animals. They came to Max for a scratch or two, after he’s overheard Daniel telling one of the owls that Max was a friend and he was wonderful. Jimmy and Sassy were brought up a few times, described as happy cats, which also seemed to lend Max a little bit more credibility. He never realized he needed it or wanted it until now.

So now they were wandering around looking for a place to have lunch. Daniel wanted burgers but he also wanted ice cream. They’d found a shop that sold sorbet and Daniel had wanted that instead, so they got that and when they left the shop, Daniel had hugged Max tightly before frolicking off.

Max had stood there, stunned every time Daniel showed affection freely, and watched him eat his cold treat and follow a butterfly. An older lady tugged his sleeve and he blinked down at her diminutive frame, completely surprised that she was there. She smiled sweetly at him, in the way a grandmother does when they see something you don’t.

“You are such a beautiful couple. Take it from an old lady who loves love– you make him very happy, cherish him always.” She patted his cheek and walked off, going on her way.

Max’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, he opened his mouth to say something– correct her, but she was across the street now and he didn’t feel like yelling. He blushed as he thought of her words and then looked back to keep track of Daniel.

Only to find Daniel right where he had last seen him, already looking back at Max. Daniel smiled a softer, smaller smile and turned away, ducking his head to lick his spoon. And Max felt his rose blooming.

Part 8

[lloowweesss]

Hello- I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now as said before most of my inspiration is from the comic Reprogramed by @littlecrittereli

Notes: it’s short and ep2 is here!!

Figured I should put a DISCLAIMER- cussing, Russian people (mabe they scare you)

And please I still need a name- please message me!

Enough yaping without further ado

Ep1 “привет”

The crisp blue sky only visible above the thick green trees, and through the trees a small uninhabited grassy area was whare Jimmy the red-headed pilot decided to land the Tortuga.

—————————

“Yo Chris whare are you?! You win okay!” Martin the older of the two called out in an exhausted tone as he landed on a branch of a tall Amazon tree.

The two brothers had been testing out the new creatures Aviva programmed by playing a little game of “cat and mouse” in the thick jungle or in this case Martin as a Blue Macaw, and Chris as a Oncilla commonly known as the Amazon’s smallest cat.

The small cat who had followed the macaw for a while now took his chance to finally pounce-

“AAaAhH!!” Martin screamed as he and the cat fell from the branch deactivating their suits and landing in a pile of what he assumed could only could be described as animal shit.

“Eww..” Chris exaggerated before quickly making his way out of the animal droppings then pulling his blond haired brother out of the mess while trying to get the brown substance off of him, though he noticed his brother squatting back down to then further examine the sample.

“Too small to be some type of large animal, snakes don’t poop-“ Martin began before being interrupted by his younger brother.

“Bro what?! Snakes have to poop how else are they supposed empty thier stomachs?” Chris exclaimed as he exchanged a confused look with the blonder of the two, just when Martin was about to open his mouth his creature pod lit up- to their knowledge it was just another villain trying to harm some animal usually ending with them running away though either way they had to hurry.

As the two rushed back to the Tortuga jumping over trees and such, Chris noticed a small tooth lying on the ground he decided to pick it up and quickly shove it into his pocket before trying to catch up with his brouther who hadn’t stoped.

—————————

Back at the Tortuga Koki had pulled up the distress call on the main screen, apparently it was suspected to be a exchange for animal testing Aviva informed the two the signal was near by but it was difficult to be precise, Chris on the other hand realized the tooth he was holding belonged to an Oncilla.

“Hey- Aviva got another Oncilla disk?” The biologist eagerly asked.

“In fact I just finished anouther one for Martin just in case- why?” The scientist confused handed the disk to Martin.

“Great!” He pulled out the tooth and activated his suit, the older of the two decided to follow.

“The small size and flexibility is perfect for a stealth mission!” He explained, though Aviva had her doubts Koki had aredy pushed them out the door.

“Be careful it’s getting dark!” Aviva yelled nervously as the two entered the forest with the sun on the horizon Martin couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

After a cupple of minutes of sneaking though the forest the two brothers came upon a small black plane, to their knowledge it looked liked Zach’s plane just smaller Martin now feeling a little less anxious looked at his brother and whispered “let’s go”.

————————

They climbed in though a window being overly cautious given they could only assume who was involved, once they had climbed into the building they noticed was pitch black.

“I can’t see a thing-” Chris said in a hushed voice given there circumstances.

“Naw really?” Martin joked sarcastically copying the same tone as his brother.

Part of the room suddenly lit up when a blond figure appeared standing in front of what seemed to be a research station with an operation table in the middle, upon further inspection the two noticed a Russian flag hung from the wall behind her- then suddenly a radio taht had been lying on a counter lit up,

“Did вы get the Кролики?”

*did you get the rabbits?*

The blond woman Responded in a heavy Russian accent, “yes.”

Martin the bolder of the two looked at his brother and said “you ready-” As he jumped from the boxes creating a loud crash, Chris on the outher hand jumped off his pile just before it came crashing down.

Chris feeling a little hazy after regaining balance with his only instinct being fight, but seeing his brother run strait at the woman he saw a human like bot about to tackle his brother he pounced and managed to push his brother out of the way, though Chris was now trapped under this bot which oddly resembled one of Donita’s manikins, his eyes now blurry he kept telling himself to stay awake and fight, but it was no use.

—————————

When Chris had finally woke up he was met with a sharp pain in his right temple, while attempting to soothe the pain he realized that he was no longer an Oncilla and he had in fact been tied up, it didn’t help he couldn’t see so in a desperate attempt to locate his brother he yelled out into the pitch black

“Martin?!” No response This was bad

He waited for a minute or so until an single overhead lightbulb flickered on, Chris’s eyes immediately began searching for his brouther or at least a clue to where he was- since he couldn’t find anything just by desperately searching he decided to listen.

————————

Martin on the other hand having seen his little brother knocked out and dragged away into the shadows found himself tied up, he had been practically screaming demands into the shadows in attempt to hopefully get some answers though it seemed unlikely in a final attempt he shouted

“If you hurt my brother I Swear I’ll will fucking kill you.”

Just then the blond woman from before had entered the dimly lit room, older Kratt now getting a closer look at her he noticed she was wearing what looked to be an old Russian soldier uniform fitted to her shape with black platform boots, though he assumed they were still in the Amazon she still wore a Russian snow cap which confused the older Kratt.

“Привет-“ Her voice worrisome knowing they’ve seen to much to turn back now.

[childofthewolvess]

Hiya, I like your blog and your overall style. What music do you listen to?

Hey there! Thank you so much!! This is such a good question, and a hard one to answer at that. Good job ;)

I listen to a little bit of anything and everything. For context, I grew up in the deep south and lived in a jazz city for some time, so... some of these things are not like the other (lol).

Hozier, Sleeping At Last, and Richy Mitch & The Coalminers are my all-time favorite music artists.

Indie folk/rock, like forest ranger in the mountains vibe, this is definitely my biggest category (Hozier, The Paper Kites, Fleet Foxes, Richy Mitch & The Coalminers, Lord Huron, Gregory Alan Isakov, Caamp)

Calm indie alternative in a poetry-writing and introspective mood (Sleeping At Last, John Vincent III, Novo Amor, Amber Run, Radical Face, Daughter)

Alternative rock/indie alternative rock (flipturn, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, Florence & The Machine, Fleetwood Mac, The Orion Experience, alt-j, Greta Van Fleet)

Modern-pop or 2000s pop (MARINA, Coldplay, Taylor Swift, Imagine Dragons, Lady Gaga, Glass Animals, BøRNS, Fall Out Boy, Lorde, Chappell Roan, Macklemore, Pitbull, Rihannna)

Folk country or bluegrass (Watchhouse, Jimmy Buffett, Zac Brown Band, Johnny Cash, Zach Bryan, Colter Wall, Tyler Childers)

Female rage and hyper-pop mania vibes (also MARINA, Paris Paloma, Olivia Rodrigo, Mother Mother, AURORA, The Crane Wives, Grimes)

"I grew up in jazz culture" (Count Basie, Stevie Wonder, Sonny Rollins, Caro Emerald, Miles Davis, Weather Report)

2000-2010s radio EDM/Dance (Calvin Harris, Martin Garrix, Caravan Palace, Axwell, Empire of the Sun, David Guetta, Swedish House Mafia)

Orchestral or soundtrack for when I'm writing in my fantasy series (John Powell, Woodkid, The Amazing Devil, Hans Zimmer, Two Steps from Hell, The Oh Hellos, Cody Fry, The Family Crest)

60s/70s/80s pop bops (ABBA, Elton John, Queen, Franki Valli & The Four Seasons, Indigo Girls, Glen Campbell, The Dream Academy, Bob Dylan, The Cranberries)

[mossfeathers]

HI you can tell me to go away if u wish but I feel like yapping about botw au and you're my target

So I think ur a genius and the other champions would be the other knights of dogwarts so skizz, etho, bigb and then im thinking either impulse removing the betrayal arc bc I just. Don't think it would fit. Or possibly even joel? And then one of the races can be kinda wild dog people? I'm nest bouncing ideas around rn

As for the races one would defintely some sort of flower/forest fairy nymph guys which is where Scott ajd jimmy would come in <3 the desert people may slightly take the place of the gerudo? And idk what species the crastle would be but if impulse is one if the knights maybe he just hails from there..... I don't think any of the actual enemy dynamics would rlly come into play (e.g. desert people VS dogwarts) but maybe there'd be some resentment there for what happened in the fall....

I think ganon might be some kind of watcher type entity? I think that would fit yk

I COULD just toss them into regular old botw but world building is more fun yk. I think the main similarities would b through structure and atory rather than world building but still with similarities in things like the koroks

^ how it feels to get an ask about an au in your inbox (I LOVE TALKING ABOUT BREATH OF THE WILD THANK YOU)

There's always the possibility to just remove one of the champions entirely, but since 4 is a nice number I think having Impulse and keeping him loyal is the best option? If you want to keep his traitor thing, it could be that he was a little bit traitorous (maybe secretly supported Ganon or an uprising from the Gerudo?) in the past, just way before the battle 100 years before Martyn wakes up. Just a tidbit of Impulse backstory.

Joel being the 4th champion just doesn't make a lot of since bc he was allied with the red kingdom for all of 5 minutes or something lmao. I do think the idea of a dog-people race would be cool though! Maybe they live somewhere around the lost woods? I think Joel just being a really really wolf-obsessed soldier (like beetle) that just trains all day and night to join the wolves or fight with the fury of the wolves or whatever (kinda like that torch guy) would be really funny and work equally well tho. Hes just a furry /silly

I think crastle people could be from Lanayru for no reason other than I think it just kinda fits their vibes, but I wanna know what you think since I don't have any strong ideas lol

Flower fairy flower husbands is perfect I think unless there's an animal species that would work for them? I'm thinking that whatever they end up being, Bigb could be the same species since they were from around the same place on the 3l map.

I know you said you didn't really want to play too heavily into the actual team relations, but there's the possibility of having Grian + Scar be part of the Yiga or some au equivalent, being based in the desert and opposing the monarchy and all. Just an idea though, I think we're both just throwing out whatever might work lol.

Ahhhhhhh worldbuilding is so exciting :DDD this au is already taking over my brain

^ little doodle of martyn seeing a korok for the first time

[spacefinch]

Magic School Bus/Wild Kratts crossover masterpost

Basically, @daiohficblog and I have been coming up with lots of headcanons that cross over the shows.

WARNING: This post is by no means organized.

How does everyone know each other?

First of all, Ms. Frizzle knows everyone. So of course she would know the Kratt brothers and the rest of the WK team (Aviva, Koki, and Jimmy).

The MSB kids are introduced to the Wild Kratts team during a whale-watching trip off the New England coast.

Phoebe's uncle, Dr. Cecil Byrd, is a traveling ornithologist from Australia and often bumps into the WK team.

Creature powers:

The kids all have their own creature power suits (which Aviva made them for Christmas one year).

Color schemes:

Phoebe: Red

D.A.: Violet (different from purple!!!)

Carlos: Dark blue

Tim: Cerulean

Ralphie: Green

Arnold: Yellow

Wanda: Pink

Keesha: Fuchsia/Magenta

Other hc's

Carlos and Mikey's sibling dynamic parallels Martin and Chris's dynamic. You have the older sibling who likes to goof off and the younger bro with slightly more brain cells.

First creature power the kids used:

Carlos and DA: Peregrine falcon

Ralphie, Arnold, and Phoebe: Red fox

Tim: Pine marten

Keesha: Rattlesnake

Wanda: Bullfrog

Family/pets/whatnot.

Phoebe and Ralphie are step-siblings in this universe. They also have the most pets:

Brandy (a grumpy old tortoiseshell cat). Dr. Tennelli (Ralphie's mom) adopted her before Ralphie was born. Former stray.

Joxter, a black-and-white tomcat. Brandy's son. Adventurous, but also lazy (rather like his namesake from the Moomin books). Good swimmer.

Renee and Megan: Two red foxes, rescued from a fur farm. Renee has the "normal" reddish-orange coat, and Megan is leucistic.

Jeanette: An old border collie (female). Another rescue.

Loretta: A black-and-white Newfoundland dog. 6 years old.

Charlie: a piebald ball python. (Not sure whether Charlie should be a boy or a girl.)

Fang: a male red-kneed tarantula belonging to Ralphie.

HC's continued (not in any particular order)

Carlos is very arachnophobic-- so he tries to avoid spiders at all costs. However, most other "scary" animals (sharks, crocodilians, snakes, bats, etc...) don't frighten him.

Martin and Chris have become somewhat of "elder sibling figures" for the kids.

Wanda is the water-lover of the MSB gang. She brings her snorkeling/scuba gear WHEREVER she goes.

Phoebe and Ralphie (AKA the Terese-Tennelli siblings) like to visit Ralphie's uncle Brian at the lake to go fishing. It's the same lake where the "Bass Class" fishing contest took place.

Uncle Brian (Dr. Tennelli's younger brother) is an expert fisherman.

In the fishing contest before the events of "Bass Class," Brian won first place in the local fishing contest, and Gavin came in third. Fortunately, Brian is a lot nicer about winning and losing than a certain cheater named Zach.

The WK kids of Frogwater Pond (Gavin, Ronan, Jenny, Katie, Aidan, and Nolan) are in this AU, and they know the MSB kids. (Since they know Phoebe and Ralphie, who come to their forest every summer).

Carlos has two younger siblings: Mikey (one year younger) and Maria (three years younger).

Mikey is a computer/tech prodigy, and as such, often helps Aviva with her inventions. He also makes his own inventions (for which Carlos is usually the test subject). He uses a wheelchair to get around.

Maria is the math expert of her siblings. She is also deaf and uses American Sign Language (ASL) to communicate.

Mikey might not be able to walk, but he's good at a lot of things: fishing, kayaking/canoeing, playing the piano, and more.

Phoebe and Carlos (the most avid birdwatchers of the MSB gang) have developed a "secret language" composed entirely of birdcalls. One key part of this language is that anyone using it has a birdcall that stands in for their name.

For instance, Phoebe's bird name is the eastern phoebe's song, while Carlos uses the northern cardinal's song for his name.

They also teach the birdcall language to Martin and Chris, who use the calls of the purple martin and pileated woodpecker, respectively. It does not go well.

Phoebe might seem harmless, but she isn't. She's been taking karate classes since she was little, and if you hurt any animals around her, RUN. In fact, she's rather like her avian namesake: small and unassuming, but a fighter through and through.

Wanda is even more of a fighter-- leading to the bird nerds in both crews comparing her to a kingbird.

The Ice Cream Run is a time-honored tradition of both the MSB gang and the Wild Kratts team. Some details:

The best Ice Cream Runs are at night. Everyone get in the car/bus/Tortuga and head for the ice cream store.

You do not want to interrupt the Ice Cream Run. Under ANY circumstances. (The WK villains learned this the hard way.)

Phoebe and Martin bond over the fact that they share their names with birds. (The eastern phoebe and purple martin, respectively.

Any time either of them sees one of those birds, they'll send each other a picture of said bird with the caption "this you?"

Wanda can pilot the Cheetah Racer and the Amphisub and the Buzz Bikes. She is not allowed in the Tortuga's cockpit.

Carlos can pilot most of the underwater vehicles (the Amphisub and the Manta sleds), but he always crashes the hoverbikes.

Mikey usually helps Koki with system maintenance of the Tortuga. (At least in the early days, when he's still learning how to make computer programs without any bugs.)

How each of the kids handles being captured by any of the WK villains:

Arnold: Carlos shows up and frees him. (The two of them are rock bros, and rock bros always have each others' backs.)

Carlos: Annoying them with horrible puns and messing with their tech.

DA: Smacks the villains with her books.

Keesha: Also resorts to punching.

Phoebe: Fury of the bird she's named after.

Ralphie: Smacks the villains with his baseball bat.

Tim: Escape artist.

Wanda: Crowbar to the face. (Nobody knows where she got the crowbar.)

Wanda has only been captured once. After that time, none of the villains dare to capture her again.

Pretty much all the MSB kids (Arnold included) will resort to violence or trickery if they're captured.

Carlos might be the goofball of the MSB gang, but he can switch into serious mode very quickly-- especially when one of his younger siblings or friends is in danger.

MSB kids from oldest to youngest: Carlos, D.A., Wanda, Tim, Keesha, Arnold, Ralphie, and Phoebe.

There is a 6-month age gap between Carlos (born in October) and Phoebe (born in April).

By contrast, the shortest age gap is between D.A. and Wanda, who were born one week apart in November.

Carlos's favorite creature power to use is peregrine falcon power-- to the point where he always keeps a falcon feather with him.

Tim is the climbing expert of the MSB gang. Wanda is the swimming expert.

Tim is also the only person in the "I Injured Myself Falling Out of a Tree" club (which comprises himself, Phoebe, Wanda, Carlos, and Chris) who has never broken a bone.

Every now and then, Carlos (dinosaur nerd) will contact the Tortuga to tell them he's seen a dinosaur. They know full well that he means birds.

Wanda rescues her pet bullfrog Bella from a shady pet store while Bella is still a tadpole.

As in the "Hopes Home" MSB episode, Bella escapes and goes off to live in the wild. However, Wanda can't help but worry about her.

HC that Bella escaped to Frogwater Pond, and the kids there keep an eye on her.

The "Gets Swamped" episode of MSB is also canon to this AU. After the events of that episode, the swamp Carlos helped save is made a nature preserve in his honor.

Carlos and Wanda are practically adopted twins, and they share a brain cell.

Wanda technically has two brothers, but she doesn't get along with them very well. She argues a lot with her older brother Henry (they both get on each others' nerves), and there isn't a lot she can do with her younger brother William.

Martin and Chris have substitute-taught Ms. Frizzle's class a few times. It ends up being just as chaotic (if not more so) than the days when the Friz is there.

This is all I have. Will post more headcanons if I think of more.

[norinenglish]

Stardew Rancher AU - Quest: Introductions 2

Meeting BDubs

Bdubs has to be Marnie. There's no other possibilities.

Read below the cut. This takes place immediately after "Getting Started". Don’t hesitate to request things about this au!

>> Part One | Next Part

Once Jimmy is done for the day, he decides to take Grian’s advice on exploring the town. He starts with his own land. He goes south of his house and the small field he made, observing the terrain. There are 3 ponds total, varying in size, and what looks like different kinds of trees. He’s not familiar enough with them to be able to name them. Moving around is a bit of a challenge with all the wood and rocks that are everywhere but clearing them will have to wait another day. 

At some point, he sees the fences that border his land and a small opening leading down to a forest. A few steps in, he starts to hear the moos of cows. Following them leads him to a big building which, frankly, is more deserving of the name “ranch” than his own farm. He can see silos on the side and a fenced pasture with several animals. Mostly cows and horses, though.

Jimmy gets close to it and the brown cow who was grazing next to the fence raises her head curiously at him. 

“Hi, you,” Jimmy says, offering his hand like you would to a cat. 

The cow bumps her head against his palm and he laughs as he starts to pet her.

There’s a sign next to the door. It says “The Stable | open 9 am - 4 pm.” His watch tells him he’s five minutes before opening time. 

What? It’s barely nine? he tells himself. It feels like a full day has passed already, with how tired he is. But that’s a given, really, since he’s not used to this type of physical labour. 

He decides to wait here. It’s nice. The cow’s fur is soft and warm under his hand and the rising sun is shining upon him. There’s a pleasant breeze, brustling the leaves. Even the scent of animals won’t bother him. 

“You know,” he tells the bovine, “I think it’s the first time I’ve ever petted a cow.” 

She flics an ear, undisturbed, and pressed subtly against the fence. He wonders what her name is. 

A few minutes later, he decides to push the door of the Stable and see what’s inside this house/shop before he loses his nerves. He looks around, feeling like Alice in Wonderland. The building, in hindsight, is incredibly normal. But it’s warm. There are plants around, a homily light reflecting on the half-wood half-wallpaper walls. 

Right in front of him, there’s a counter with a cash register – so this is definitely a shop. 

“Hello?” he calls out, wondering why no one’s there. 

Did he get his time wrong? 

“Yes, yes, I’m coming! Etho, what are you doing awake already-”

A short man bursts out behind a curtain separating the main room from probably another part of the house. He’s wearing a green apron and holding a knife in one hand and an onion in the other. 

“You’re not Etho.”

Jimmy gets flustered under that blank stare. He clears his throat and gestures awkwardly behind himself. “I’m sorry, the sign on the door said it was open- uh. I’m- I’m Jimmy. I just moved in.”

The man recovers quickly. “Ah, yes Mayor Grian told me you just arrived,” he proclaims, putting the onion and the knife down, reaching out for a handshake. 

Jimmy had always thought ‘proclaiming’ was just a word people used in books to avoid using ‘saying’ and that it didn’t really mean something different. But listening to this booming voice, he realises he was wrong.  

“I'm BDoubleO!” the man continues, squeezing his hand firmly but not painfully. “ I sell livestock and animal care products at my Stable. You’re free to swing by any time, during opening hours of course.”

“Oh so this is a shop,” Jimmy says a bit stupidly. He doesn’t have anything smart to say, but at least he feels less guilty about barging in. 

“Yes. You will need to have proper infrastructure to receive the animals, though. And, from what I’ve seen, you live in a shack.” BDoubleO pauses and eyes Jimmy. “Do you even have a kitchen?”

Jimmy’s first instinct is to open his mouth and defend his lamentable shack’s honour. He’s used to the passive-aggressive attitude of people of the city, of comments that feel like needles trying to tear him apart, so that his natural reaction. 

He takes in a breath - forcing himself to take a figurative step back from the defensiveness he feels. BDoubleO’s inquiry seemed genuine. Probably. He hopes. 

“I don’t,” Jimmy says because that’s the truth and he raises his chin defiantly, bracing himself for contempt of pity. 

Instead, the other man just picks up the items he had set on the counter and asks, “Have you eaten breakfast, then?” 

Jimmy blinks. “No?”

 He hates how it sounded like a question but he’s just taken aback. 

“And you’ve been working on your farm since when?”

“Uh, I woke up at 6?”

“You must be famished. Come on in.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, dumbly. His brain can’t catch on to what’s happening. 

BDoubleO goes back towards the room he came out of. As his arm raises the half-curtain, he stops. 

“Well, don’t wait there, follow me.”

The imperious tone triggers Jimmy’s automatic obedience, as a result of all his years in the corporate world. He numbly follows the man into a kitchen and sits at the table when he hears the command. He feels a bit out of place, just sitting there, but BDoubleO’s chatter about fresh organic eggs as he makes an omelette with potatoes, ham and onions doesn’t really need his active participation. 

“It’s a lot, living here,” he says when he puts a plate down in front of Jimmy, “but you’ll probably do great.” 

They start eating. The food is simple but somehow, it tastes better than anything Jimmy has ever eaten. And he doesn’t even like omelette all that much.  

“This is good,” he says. 

Gosh, can you be any more rude? He chides himself. He just inhaled his plate of food in what feels like one munch. 

BDoubleO just beams, though, accepting the lame compliment.

“Thank you! It’s all fresh eggs from my lovelies. Think about it when you wanna extend your farming operation.” He hums pensively then.“But you’re not there yet, are you now? First, you need seeds. You should get to Trader Scar for that. Follow the river to the east until you get to the houses. Then it’s at the north of the town square. You can’t miss the huge name sign. Always had a sense of flare, Scar. He’ll probably give you good deals. The saloon not far from it will provide you with hot  meals while you don’t have a kitchen.” 

Here it is again. How can people be so generous here when there’s nothing they can get out of it. Jimmy’s been welcomed, fed and advised just like that. 

“Thank you.” 

Jimmy leaves soon after that, his stomach warm from the food and everything else.