#one of them is dark forest green and covered in little leaf patterns it's really nice

[nexus-nebulae]

Oh it is so nice having both a guy and a girl in front who both have the exact same taste in clothing so we're getting both masculine and feminine gender euphoria

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 20: Mist Pt.1

Lincoln/Octavia but also Gen, Canon-Divergent, ~930 words

So I accidentally had a Whole Ass Fic Idea for this and then I just wrote part of it. Hopefully will continue but no promises about that.

*

In November, a heavy fog settles over the Dropship camp, and with it, a deep unease. Visibility even around the tents is nearly zero. The ship itself looms up out of dense gray mists, seems to float above them amid the deep green of the trees, half-disappears at time against a wretched sky deeply smudged with clouds. There's been only one attack since the Grounder assault and the ring of fire, and it was of Reapers who came in through the tunnels. Ruthless but dumb, they were easily repulsed. Since then, only silence from all sides.

Octavia packs a bag with some extra food and water and insists on joining Wells and Clarke as they hike up to a higher elevation, a desperate last bid to get a lay of the land. Usually, they'd fight her on it, or at least her brother would, but either they understand her restlessness or know that any arguments would be a waste of breath. All Bellamy does is slip her a gun, even though she's already carrying her sword on her back and even now she barely knows how to shoot.

Since Lincoln left on his scouting mission, nearly a week ago now and not a single word or signal since, she's been pacing around the camp like a caged-up beast. He was supposed to call on one of the other clans. Trikru would kill him on sight but he'd made friends in some of the others, not too far off, and with their sentries nearly useless and the tension in camp at a painful high, he'd declared the mission worth the risk. And so what if she hadn't agreed. For news about the Mountain, he'd insisted. The quiet from that sector made him more nervous than she could understand.

Wells leads the way between the trees and through the underbrush, tracking their direction by playing his fingertips against moss-covered bark, leaving subtle signs by which they can find their way back home. Clarke follows, and Octavia trails behind. Sometimes she all but loses sight of the others—it doesn't take much, with the mist settled so close around her, its chill touch clammy against her skin. All around them, they hear the faint patter of raindrops slipping down from leaf to leaf. For days now, following along with the fog, the weather has been not quite rainy, far from clear: precipitation lingers in the air, threatening a downpour that might clear away the fog, but never comes. Each stray drop feels like ice, frigid and bitter.

If the temperature drops even a few degrees, Wells reminds them, the rainstorm they're expecting will turn into heavy snow. Even Wells himself can only imagine what a heavy snow would really mean.

 They talk little during their hike, only the bare minimum of directions, alerts, but Octavia can hear the others breathing almost as well as she can hear her own heavy breath in her ears. The ground becomes steeper and steeper. The muscles of her legs burn; she starts to sweat despite the cold.

 Finally, they reach the peak, and Clarke doubles over to catch her breath, as she stands next to Wells and Octavia runs the last few paces to stand on her other side. From here, they can see miles and miles of forest. Hints of smoke, rising in columns through the mist, seem to indicate settlements. Rough patterns of evergreens stretch out along the valley. The fog itself resembles a vast ocean—or what Octavia imagines an ocean to be.

"Well, this was a bust," she announces, and wipes a sheen of cooling sweat from her brow.

Not that she should complain. She just wanted to get out, needed to get out.

"Maybe it's good that there's nothing to see," Wells answers, with tentative optimism.

Clarke shakes her head. She's standing up straight again now, and her face looks pale, except for the dark spots of her color at her cheeks. "You could hide a whole army in fog like that."

"The Mountain doesn't have a whole army. If they did, they would have used it against the Grounders by now."

"We don't know what the Mountain has, that's the whole—"

"Shut up." Octavia holds up her hand, and Wells and Clarke become immediately silent. Beneath their bickering, she heard something, something like the snapping of twigs and the clacking of bare branches and the rustling of fallen leaves. Something so subtle it sounded like maybe nothing at all. But the fog has brought silence, too, so that any break in the muffled quiet of it catches her attention, and one of Lincoln's lessons to her was how to really hear.

"What is—?" Wells starts, and Octavia hushes him again. She still hasn't put down her hand. She hasn't moved at all, because the sounds are getting louder, closer. And in another moment, Clarke and Wells hear them, too.

Octavia takes a tentative step closer to the tree line. Clarke reaches out to draw her back, but misses, and Octavia notices the movement only with a very distant, very faint part of her brain. The fatigue in her body has turned to tense anticipation: a taut bowstring, an arrow ready to be shot.

The movement is of a body, a human-sized body, shuffling, dragging itself painfully along. She holds her breath—and then releases it, all at once, with something like a sob, as a familiar shape limps out of the shadows and materializes through the clinging gray. The tension in her breaks all at once and she runs right into Lincoln's arms.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (3)

Ch 1 | Ch 2 |

warning: mentions of fear, crocodiles, discussion of teeth

-

Logan found himself grateful that he’d made arrangements to postpone their other jobs for a bit, because it looked as though they’d be staying firmly on this planet’s surface for a while.

There had been all of one attempt to bring Virgil aboard the Mindscape, and it had resulted in a significant amount of crying from both the child and Patton. Whatever circumstances had led the Human to this planet, it had left them deeply fearful of any sort of spacefaring vessel.

… This did not annul Logan’s suspicions about smuggling, though he was careful not to say as much in front of Virgil. The child was keen, and any time the fact that they were a Human was mentioned, they withdrew and began displaying body language that Logan believed indicated a desire to flee. Checking that exits were still there, putting space between themself and any of the Mindscape’s crew, anxious tics, and so forth.

Needless to say, they avoided the topic.

However, to Logan’s surprise, the child didn’t seem at all adverse to basic questions about themself. Understanding their responses was rare, of course, but the kid was picking up on Common with a shocking quickness, and Roman had turned out to be rather talented at interpreting their gestures when they didn’t have the right words.

The data that Logan had collected from these inquiries was both strange and intriguing. He’d carefully woven a mental list of it all.

1. Virgil seemed to identify by he/him, though whether that was an actual gender preference or simply a child wanting to be called the same pronouns as the three of them was up for debate. Either way, Logan seriously doubted that there was any way to convey the nebulous concept of gender through a language barrier, so he let the matter lie.

2. After eating too fast, Virgil would convulse slightly in a semi-rhythmic pattern for a short period. He didn’t seem alarmed or pained by this, only slightly irritated when it would interrupt him mid-sentence. The condition of ‘hiccups’ was thankfully temporary, since it made Roman quite jumpy. For their tiny, squeaking nature, Patton had called them ‘hicchirps’, which was ridiculous, but Virgil seemed to enjoy any and all wordplay that made it through his grasp of the language, so Logan stowed his complaints.

3. Virgil was terrified of the locals. Despite being plainly evident, this observation didn’t make sense at first, seeing as the nearby town consisted primarily of native Hiiynal and a few offplanet transfers, none of which could be described as particularly dangerous or violent. After a few days of gentle questioning and no reprimands for not answering, Virgil finally told them that the locals would ‘chase monsters far away’ and so he couldn’t risk getting near. Questioning was temporarily halted in favor of showing the Human the art of shadow symmetry, for purely scientific reasons, of course. 

(Supposition: Human children enjoyed movement games.)

4. While the synthetic meat from the ration kits was accepted by Virgil, he showed a surprising preference for sweeter food items, such as fruit and sugar crystals. Seeing as Humans were rumored to be obligate carnivores or even raw flesh-eaters, this was a strange discrepancy. Virgil had even eaten some of the leafy vegetables Logan had brought, face pinched up in disgust but insisting that eating ‘greens’ would make one tall. It was unclear to Logan what color had to do with nutrients or growth. He was also slightly alarmed at the implication of Virgil being short for his age.

5. Virgil seemed, for all intents and purposes, fixated on Roman.

The latest data point was a work in progress. Logan hadn’t mentioned it to Roman himself, because the Cravon was already fairly worked up over everything the Human did as it was. Nobody seemed sure if this jumpiness was because of the Human child, or on behalf of it.

Still, it was present in little ways. For example, even as he answered Logan’s latest series of questions, his gaze would occasionally flicker up from his hands to Roman, who sat at the mouth of the little cave, carefully peeling more fruit. It wasn’t about the food; Patton had taken it upon himself to make sure the child knew he only had to ask to get something to eat. No, this  ‘almost-staring’ was a frequent occurrence, no matter what Roman preoccupied himself with.

“You were saying you met… Susan… when another predator was attacking it?”

Virgil nodded, hurriedly looking back to his hands. “It was a big bite monster, and Susan was loud crying, so I did, uh,” he lifted his arms up, hands spread wide, “this, and I was loud at it until it ran away. Like raccoons back on Dirt.”

Dirt was apparently Virgil’s name for his home. Logan hadn’t heard of ‘raccoons’ before. He decided not to get sidetracked. “I’d estimate the creature you saw was a Lifel. They are the natural predators of Humlilts.”

“Natural?” Virgil mimicked.

“It means ‘of nature’,” Logan attempted to clarify, gesturing around them. “In the wild.”

Virgil only grew more confused with the wide, encompassing gesture. “Sky? Was not flying.”

Logan glanced at Roman, checking that he was still preoccupied. Patton was back at the ship, contacting a friend for advice. There seemed no better opportunity if he wanted to avoid overwhelming Virgil.

“Virgil, would you like to try something new?” he asked, carefully neutral. It wouldn’t do to put any pressure on the child.

The Human squinted at him slightly, quick to use his most common phrase. “Will it hurt?”

“It will not hurt,” Logan replied, ignoring the tightening in his core with careful practice. It always felt so wrong, that a mere pupa would be so familiar with hurt. “I will always tell you if something might hurt.”

“Mmm.” The Human hummed, the way he always did when they told him such things. Like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “What’s it?”

“What is it,” Logan corrected automatically. “It is something I can do, to show you new words. Want to try a little bit, first?” That was the phrase they used for new foods, but it applied well enough to mindsharing.

Virgil clenched and unclenched his hands for a moment longer before nodding, going a little tense like he expected something unpleasant. Logan held a hand out to him, waiting until he’d reached out in return to start sharing.

Small, simple flashes of images and sensations. Quiet forests, shallow oceans, clean air. Plants, bugs, animals, humanoids, living and dying and living again. Nature.

Virgil had pinched his eyes closed immediately at the start of the low-level telepathy, and Logan only had a moment to worry that maybe it had hurt him in some manner.

Then, there was a feeling of recognition. Without a moment to spare, Virgil had grasped the nature of the Vidi and was projecting his own thoughts. Walking on a crunchy leaf-covered trail with other Human young, a winged insect emerging from a cocoon, the crack of thunder and heavy rain on a windowsill. Nature.

“Wow!” Virgil whispered, imprint thoughts flickering like flames, too quick for Logan to really see. “You see into heads!”

Logan pulled back slightly, offering a bit of content-smug in return to the Human’s awe. “That is one way of framing it, yes. So, you understand what I mean, about the Lifel being a natural predator?”

“Carnivore,” Virgil mumbled, and then offered image-thoughts of several creatures that Logan could only assume were from the deathworlder’s home planet. He watched with morbid curiosity as Virgil remembered a clip from a screen, displaying large ungulates with twisting horns crossing a river, and then being dragged underwater by a dark, writhing shape.

“That’s a crocodile,” Virgil told him, his eyes still closed tight in concentration. “They’ve got big teeth and they do death rolls. They look like alligators, but I know they aren’t because gators live in Florida.”

“Florida?” Logan asked. He wondered if perhaps ‘gators’ were kept in captivity for species preservation. Or perhaps they were too dangerous left in the wild?

Virgil showed him a memory of a long, reptilian form with a narrow, tooth-filled jaw. It was wading steadily through a swimming pool, not paying any mind to Virgil, who was sitting with his legs dipped in the pool, watching in fascination. “I lived there!”

“Oh,” Logan managed, his ears going numb with fear at the idea of a child being so near a creature like that. “So it would seem.”

The Human patted him carefully, a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay. The bad guys didn’t take any gators or crocodiles from Dirt. Just people.”

Virgil’s words trailed off, a sense of melancholy overwhelming him. Rather than find out more about the Human’s past, Logan felt an unreasonably strong urge to stop that sadness. “Could you perhaps tell me more about these… ‘crocodiles’? You seem to be quite informed on them.”

“I had a book about them,” Virgil managed, slowly dragging his thoughts away from his abduction. “Did you know some crocodiles have a… a ‘biting force’ of five thousand pounds?”

He had lapsed into English, the sentence sounding well-recited, but Logan still got the general idea of what he meant, and a strong image of a picture book, covered in writing he couldn’t read but still understood. If Logan was right about the measurement conversions, the fact was terrifying.

“That’s very interesting,” he mused, because terrifying and interesting often went hand in hand. “Are there any other predators that can bite like that?”

Virgil scrunched his face up in thought. “Maybe sharks. Oh, but for sure a T. Rex!”

Logan saw a very concerning glimpse of a large fish with too many teeth before Virgil’s mind switched to a cartoon depiction of a larger creature with also too many teeth. He was beginning to see a trend in deathworlder species. “I… see.”

“They’re all dead, though,” Virgil told him sadly, projecting a memory of a huge display of bones. He then seemed to perk up, glancing over at Roman again. “Except for in space!”

Logan narrowly avoided laughing out loud, covering his throat before the vibrating chirps could get far. So, this was the truth behind the Human’s interest!

“Roman is not a ‘dinosaur’,” he clarified, once he felt composed enough to do so. “In fact, I believe he rarely even eats meat.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s a secret dinosaur.”

Logan wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “I suppose we’ll just have to check.”

---

“Roman, would you come here for a moment?”  

Roman looked up from his task, immediately suspicious. Logan sounded strangely amused, like he was on the brink of laughing at him. That was never a good sign.

Still, the Human was looking over at him with those wide, strange eyes, and he wasn’t about to run away. He got to his feet, leaving his pile of dana peels behind as he crossed the cave floor. “What is it, dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of me?”

“I need you to show us your teeth,” Logan said, very much not being a dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of him. Roman resisted the urge to hang his head in resignation. He should have expected this. The Ulgorii was shameless when it came to exploiting his friends for science.

“How about absolutely not?” he replied, because there were actually limits to his tolerance for shenanigans, and one of those limits was threat-displaying at a baby Human.

“Hold on, look,” Logan said, and then bared his own ridged teeth with a click.

The Human did his small grimace-smile back, entirely unphased. They both looked to him expectantly. Roman felt as though he was being ganged up on.

“Um,” Virgil said, painfully tentative, “please?”  

Roman felt extremely ganged up on.

He squatted, tail keeping him perfectly balanced, and pulled at the corner of his mouth to show some of his teeth.

“Woah,” Virgil breathed.

“See how the back teeth are narrow but dull? They’re designed to crack bones and get to the marrow at the center,” Logan narrated, like the nerd he was. “Roman doesn’t have the small incisors or sharp molars required for proper full-time carnivores.”

Roman almost reminded his crewmate to use small words, but Virgil seemed to get the idea, leaning uncomfortably close to stare. He then opened his own mouth, like he was planning to take a bite out of something, displaying a shocking number of tiny little bone-teeth crammed inside. Some of them were uncomfortably sharp.

Rather than attack anyone, though, Virgil touched his own teeth, carefully inspecting the shape of them. Roman resisted the urge to get him to sanitize his hands. Kits would be kits, he supposed.

Logan was patiently watching as Virgil pointed to each tooth in turn, and he obligingly recited the name of each type of tooth for the kit. His two lower arms took frantic notes on Human jaw structure, probably to prepare more elaborate meal plans better suited to a deathworlder diet. The kid soaked every bit of information in like a sponge.

Finally, after a long moment of thought, he announced, “My ‘lower canine’ is going to fall out in close time!”

“Soon,” Logan offered, always quick to interpret the Human’s occasional nonsense Common. “'My lower canine is going to fall out soon.'” And then, after a moment’s pause. “Wait, it’s going to what?”

And then, because Roman’s day needed more nightmare fuel, the kit bared his tiny fangs at them and poked one with his tongue, revealing that it did indeed seem to be sickeningly loose. In fact, Roman could see a few other gaps in the curved row of teeth, some with little bits of bone peeking out.

“Stars above,” Roman said, feeling a little faint. Logan was already interrogating a very confused Virgil on whether or not losing teeth was indicative of an illness or not.

“They’re just my little teeth,” Virgil told them, seemingly unconcerned with holes in his mouth. “I get big ones later.”

“There are plenty of species that have milk teeth, but to have their adult set not fully-formed by the time the milk teeth are ready to fall out…,” Logan quickly devolved into muttering, hands flicking.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Roman asked despite himself, eyeing the kit just in case he was going to burst into tears all of the sudden. Roman himself had lost one or two front teeth before his next set had fully formed, and each time it had felt like biting on hot metal.

“Nuh-uh.” Virgil seemed to have moved from confused to amused, still not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Not unless I,” he mimed pulling on the tooth, and Roman made a click-click-click of parental don’t-do-that chiding before he’d even fully registered the alarm he’d felt at the motion.

Virgil clicked back at him curiously, sounding exactly like a tiny version of an exasperated parent. Roman tucked his face against his shoulder, unsure if he should laugh or despair.

This Human was really going to be the death of him.

[writing-gifts]

here’s the 6th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

im gonna start posting this on ao3 too (with some editing in the earlier chapters so you can check that out if you wanna)

list of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

--------

“OW! What the hell--why’d you bite me so hard for!?”

You try to move your leg but Mutton blocks your way. Letting out a sigh, you stand in place and look down at the cat.

“What? What is the problem?”

He moves behind you and presses his head against the back of your calf hard enough to affect your balance. When you move your leg forward to stop yourself from falling, Mutton walks towards the door.

“Do you want me to let you out? But you just got here.”

The cat looks at you for a moment before placing his front paws on the door and stretching upward towards the knob.

Shaking your head, you walk over to the door. “I’m gonna get that cat door for you one day, I swear.”

Once it’s open, Mutton quickly circles your legs and pushes his head against them like before.

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

You walk out and the feline takes a few steps towards the forest ahead before turning to look back. His multicolored eyes stay locked on yours and you purse your lips when you realize what he wants.

“I guess I'm following you….”

After locking and closing the door, you walk after the cat as he continues into the forest. You wonder what exactly he’s so desperate to show you. Was this even normal behavior for cats? You weren't sure but you did know that Mutton was a little more on the intelligent side. Sometimes you even felt like he could even understand you.

So you go along with it, following a distance behind through what seems like endless trees and brush and fanning random insects out of your face. Fortunately, the weather was cool enough that you weren't sweating too.

However, the longer you walk, the more you fear that you might be lost. Trying to find your way back on your own would definitely make it worse though.

Just when you think you need to take a break, a body of water appears in the distance through the opening of the trees. When you and Mutton finally exit the packed foliage, you see that you’ve been led to a lake sitting in a giant clearing in the forest.

You stare a bit amazed at the size and notice a cabin near it a distance away. Mutton doesn't stop long to let you marvel at the scene though and continues towards the lake. You catch up to him and the both of you walk alongside the water.

“So do you know the person in the cabin?” You assume that’s where you're headed.

You didn’t expect a response, but Mutton merps to acknowledge you. You hum and your gaze quickly finds itself back on the lake. It was vast, going on so far you could barely see where it ended. The sky and trees reflect on its surface clearly and the water’s so still you almost feel like you can jump into the clouds if you want to.

Once the two of you are closer, you see that the brick and wood cabin was partially sitting on the grassy land behind it and partially on the water. You had also underestimated the size. Perhaps more than one person lived here?

Mutton leads you around the side of the house and stops to sit next to the front door. He looks up at you expectedly so you reach out to knock.

Several seconds pass before you hear the door being unlocked and when it opens, a handsome man with a neat, dark bob is revealed.

Unsure of what to do, you give a quick greeting and go quiet afterward. You didn't plan what to say when the door was answered, you just knew Mutton wanted you to knock.

Said cat walks into view, rubbing against the man’s leg as he walks into the house.

At that moment, realization seems to cross the man's face and he smiles at you.

“You must be the neighbor,” he says.

“Neighbor?”

“The person who lives in the house outside the forest. I saw someone moved in but never came around to introduce myself.”

"Oh, I had no idea anyone lived out here."

"That’s pretty much the reason why I’m out here.” The man moves to make room so you can walk inside. “Would you like to come in?"

You're a little hesitant since you just met but Mutton had no issue with it apparently. And the cat had actively been prepared to attack Diavolo for you on multiple occasions.

The moment you pass the threshold, you’re instantly awed. When you thought of cabins, simple and small came to mind. This one was neatly organized but it didn't give the homely vibe you’d expect.

The monochromatic room was spacious and decorated with nice looking furniture and curtains. The living area consisted of a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking couches, and the stone wall above it held shelves that were crammed full of old looking books, various expensive looking decor and bottles. And to the right, closer to the back of the room sat a sizable dining set.

However what mostly grabs your eye is the fish tanks that were embedded in the walls throughout the room. At first you wonder why he had so many, but when you look closer you realize that they were not, in fact, separate tanks but a giant aquarium partially hidden within the walls.

Was the whole house like this? What type of cabin was this?

While you wonder where all the fish are, something twinkles in the corner of your eye. You turn to see what it is, but there’s nothing there.

So I'm imagining things now...

“--drink?”

You turn your attention to the man. "Sorry what was that?"

“I asked if you wanted anything to drink?”

You cross your arms and shake your head. “No I’m good…so do you know why Mutton led me here?”

The cat currently sits on the top of the back of one of the white couches.

“I actually needed to discuss something important with you, but I should introduce myself first. I'm Bruno Bucciarati--you can refer to me as either--and I'm a witch.”

You’re immediately skeptical. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, but you couldn't just believe whatever anyone told you. Bruno doesn’t look bothered by your dubiousness though.

“You're smart enough to not trust blindly. That’s good.” The man puts a finger to his chin. “You have a leaf on your shoulder.”

Before you can reach up to brush it off the man plucks it off you. Then just as quickly as he picked it off, the small green leaf begins to glow and transforms into a full flower.

You stare shocked trying to find any way to explain what you just saw. It was no trick of the eye either as the leaf’s form changed right before you into a completely different thing.

The man--no witch holds out the white rose and you gently take it.

“I--wow I just keep running into supernatural beings or something.”

"This forest does seem to attract them," he says.

Interesting…

You roll the flower stem between your fingers. “I’m ____ by the way.Uh, I don't know if you call him Mutton too--" You tilt your head in the direction of the feline. “--but is he your familiar or something?”

“No, he’s just a cat that likes to wander the forest. However, my familiar's over there though if you’re interested."

You get closer to the tank the witch pointed out to observe and even though you weren't exactly showing it, you were actually really excited and interested by the fact that you just met a witch.

At first you don't see anything in the huge tank other than greenery and a rocky cave ornament in the corner. But then something pops its head out of the opening. An eel that also managed to match the color scheme of the room. It was mostly white and covered in black patterns with yellow sprinkled in. It comes out of its hiding spot and swims back and forth as if it were stretching out it’s long body. Then it turns to you when it realizes that you're intently watching through the glass.

Your smile at it’s somewhat funny face and tilt your head a bit. The eel responds by tilting its own head, as if curious by your action.

"Holy crap. This is actually pretty cool! Do they talk?" you ask.

“Not really.” Bruno's smile falters. “But surprisingly Mutton does.”

“Huh?” You snicker a bit thinking the witch is joking but see that there’s no sign that he is on his face.

You look over at the cat and he stares back unblinking before glancing at Bruno.

"....I thought we weren't going to tell them."

Your heart almost jumps into your throat. “W-What?”

Bruno hums. “I thought about it and decided there's no point keeping it secret any longer. The incubus already knows. So it would only be a matter of time before he said something."

You're still reeling from Mutton talking that you almost missed what Bruno said.

“Hold on...Wait. Incubus? Are you talking about Doppio?” you ask the witch.

“Yes.”

You squint confused. “He knew and he didn't say anything? How long ago did he find out?"

"About a week," Mutton says.

"It might have benefited him in some way but I'm not sure why he didn't say anything," Bruno adds.

You exhale, somehow already on the verge of irritation with...everyone. Doppio was usually open with you, but apparently he thought this was a good thing not to mention.

You stare at Mutton who looks at you like he usually did, as if this weren’t an issue. But that was far from the case for you. It wasn't explicitly said but you were sure he told Bruno things about you, and it left you disturbed.

“...Well is there anything else I should know about Mutton?”

"Well his name's not actually Mutton," Bruno says.

"It's Leone Abbacchio, but you can call me Abbacchio."

You grimace from the human sounding voice coming from the cat you had been cuddling practically since...since you moved here!

“Okay Abbacchio, I don't really want you snooping around my house anymore--

“That can be arranged,” Bruno interrupts. “Once we ‘exorcise’ that demon constantly visiting you.”

Your already furrowed brow deepens. Doppio wasn't possessing anything though. You weren't even sure he was capable of that.

“No, I don't want that!”

"Listen, it might seem like Doppio is harmless, but things can become dangerous if he grows too serious of an attachment to you. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t need to hurt him if he leaves quietly."

You weren't exactly sure what the witch meant by "dangerous" but his serious tone managed to spark some anxiety within you.

"I mean it would be natural for Doppio to get upset if I suddenly wanted him gone."

"He's not just talking about being upset." Abbacchio says, annoyance in his tone. "Doppio could literally keep you against your will if he wanted and there would be no way for Bruno to reverse it."

"All demons are naturally envious creatures and the way things are going between you two, it’s only a matter of time. And this doesn't even take into account the other demon." Bruno says.

Diavolo aside, you couldn't bring yourself to see Doppio in that light.

"But--"

The front door slams open and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

Doppio stomps in, his face flushed. Once he sees you he seems to relax slightly but his expression is still irate.

“I finally found you!” he exclaims.

Bruno raises a brow and turns to Abbacchio.

The cat's ears fold back in frustration. "I was sure I lost him."

The incubus walks up to you, stopping too close and grabbing your shoulders harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Doppio you're gripping me too tightly.” You push off his hands and wrap your arms around yourself to shield your body from the sudden chill that seemed to appear. “I’m fine….But they're talking about you being able to keep me? What does that exactly mean?”

You wanted to hear an explanation from the incubus himself. You trusted him not to lie to your face if you asked him straight on.

However, Doppio reacts strangely, as if he's afraid. He makes some space between the two of you and struggles to look at you. You try to catch his gaze again but he refuses to keep eye contact.

"It's…" He strains his fingers. "Well, you see, incubi and succubi can form a….c-connection with a weaker being if they’re close enough. Then they could technically stay together forever."

Abbacchio grunts, "Way to sugar coat it--"

“I wouldn’t do that to you though ____! I didn't even consider it! U-Unless you wanted to it would never happen and I know that you like your space…”

The incubus is the most stressed you've seen him.

Even though you were still upset you didn't like seeing him like this, so in an attempt to ease him, you try to smile. Unfortunately, it comes off pretty strained.

You take a moment to mull over what he said though and come to a conclusion pretty quickly. "Even though that was kind of vague...I think I understand. And honestly, I can't see you forcing me into that."

You'd never seen a cat roll their eyes until now.

"Typical human. They're a lost cause Bruno. Let's leave them to do what they want," Abbacchio says before stretching and laying down.

The witch looks disapprovingly at the cat. "You know I can't do that. Perhaps they actually were charmed. I could--"

"Sir," you say to get his attention. "I appreciate your concern, but I trust Doppio and I'd prefer if you didn't get in between the two of us."

Having to tell your almost neighbor you just met to buzz off even in a polite way wasn't what you were expecting to do today.

Bruno doesn’t look upset though. He's quiet, studying you with an unreadable expression but then he nods.

"I'm having Leone check up on you. If anything seems off I'm getting involved."

Your brows furrow slightly. Didn't you just explicitly say you didn't want Abbacchio snooping around your home anymore?

You want to argue more but the witch didn't leave room in his statement to negotiate. And even though you hate to admit it, keeping the supernatural out of your home wasn't exactly your strong suit. It pissed you off but you couldnt do anything about it. So you give a curt nod and immediately walk to the exit with Doppio following closely behind.

Once outside, you follow the incubus through the forest. There's a long, awkward stretch of silence between you two though.

Doppio tries to sneakily glance at you, which you of course you notice but you choose to ignore it. However, after the 50th one he finally decides to say something.

"____?"

You sigh, "What?"

He slows to a stop to turn and look at you properly but, again, he has trouble keeping eye contact.

"Are you mad?"

Maybe at first but now it had changed to more of a disappointed feeling.

"Not necessarily but you knew about Mutt--Abbacchio and didn't say anything to me. So I'm not exactly happy right now."

"I didn't but--"

You shake your head. "No Doppio. I'm too tired right now to understand whatever weird logic you formed in your head."

His mouth closes and the hurt on his face instantly makes you regret your choice of words. Maybe you shouldn't have said it like that but you really didn't feel like listening to excuses right now.

You look away from Doppio. "Let's just go, please."

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Title: Just Gotta Stay Calm

Word Count: 3966

Fandom: Gravedale High

Ship/Pairing: Vinnie Stoker/Reggie Moonshroud

Tags: First Dates, Vampire Family, Tradition, Awkward Crush, Vampire Boyfriend, Werewolf Boyfriend, First Kiss, Dorks in Love, Awkward Dates, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love

Warnings: First Works of the fandom, swearing(small), awkward, fluff

Vinnie let in a breath as he examines himself in the special vampire mirror on his bedroom wall. He quietly checks every inch of his face closely before opening his mouth to check his fangs.

Good, He thought with a charming grin to himself. No pimples, no stuff in my teeth, no flaws in sight.  Vinnie went to his dresser and takes out some cologne he bought specifically for today, a scent of calming forest rain, and sprayed some on his neck and a little bit in his shirt. Not a lot just the basic stuff to seem simple and posh.

Vinnie and Reggie are finally getting themselves a date.  A real, really real, true date.  Just the two of them.  And Vinnie could be more happier then this moment!

Vinnie has been meaning to ask his best friend out for quite some time, since the first moment he noticed his feelings were a bit more then platonic bashful moths in his chest and stomach actually.  It took him a total of two full months to completely wrap his head around the fact that he - Vincent "Vinnie" Stoker - was wings over heels in love with the world's one and only Reggie Moonshroud.  However, it took him nearly a YEAR to get up all the courage to ask the boy out. Honestly, if it weren't for his friends this day might've never happened.

The young vampire left his bedroom and hurries down his stairs, only to be stopped by the voice of his old man, "Vincent, can you come here please?" Vinnie let out a silent shutter as he mentally cursed himself.

He slowly turned his body fully towards the older vampire sitting in his velvet chair with a pipe in between his lips, small puffs of the smoke emerging out the ends. The teen slowly walked over. "Y-Yea pops?" His voice rarely stammers when speaking, hasn't since he was in the 6th grade, at least not when he nervous beyond his wits like when he tried to get the chance to ask Reggie out and plan out what to do on said date.

"Are you going to go on your date soon?" Asked Mr. Stoker. Vinnie nods some in reply, his hands fumbling into his jacket's pockets. This was not what he wanted to do.  The older vampire stood up from his chair, pipe still puffing out smoke, his eyes focus out the window of the chilly autumn gray skies. He takes a puff before continuing, "I want to give you some simple advice for your first date Vincent. Vampire to vampire." Vinnie practically shrunk his head down into his coat's collar.

Defiantly not what he wanted to do. . .

"That's okay pops, I got it covered-" He began as he slowly creeped his way to the front door. "The year was 1880. . ."  Vinnie bite back a groan, knowing very well that once his dad starts it's hard to stop him.  "I was simply a beginning apprentice to the one and only Dracula. Mostly paper work and long mornings. I thought I had everything cut out for me, a great job and nice home, until I realized I was missing something important when I first saw your mother wandering through the local cemetery." Mr. Stoker smiles fondly as he light strokes his black beard. "She is my first and only love as I'm sure you know. And it took me decades to ask her on a single date, I feared she might not want a simple vampire apprentice who barely knows how to turn into a bat, but alas she surprise me with a yes."  Vinnie nods, "Yeah yeah I know. And you two spent many years together, got married, had two kids, and lived happily ever after. Dad, I know the story pretty well you know."

He didn't mean to interrupt his father's tale, he just already has his nerves up through the roof and he just want to hurry for the plans.  His father turned and looked at his son right in the eyes as he spoke, "I know you do. I'm just trying to tell you that last night I was certain to give you some advice for your date, a vampire tradition my father gave me as his father gave him and his father so forth. I know you're nervous and it's perfectly natural. Just remember, be courteous. Be engaging. And above all, have a plan." Vinnie nodded. "Don't worry pops, I got it covered. Now can I go and do the date itself?" He asked the older vampire, who nodded to his please. He didn't wait any few seconds to open the front door and flying off with a snap.

This will go well, He thought to himself as he feels the wind go through his black hair. Reggie will enjoy the date I have planned for us. This is a piece of blood orange pie. Vinnie smiled as he spaces out on today's plans. Slowly, though, his brain began to swim to a memory of when he got the nerves to finally make that choice he's been walking back and forth on. . .

~   ~   ~

Vinnie taps the heels of his shoe onto the cold hard floor of the school's classroom as he watches the clock tic away, his eyes going to the clock and to the werewolf just a desk away from him.  Today was the day, Vinnie told himself throughout the hours. Today I'm going to do it.  As if proving his luck, the bell rings out around the school, signalling everyone to grab their stuff and hurry the Hell out of there for the weekend.  Vinnie stood onto his feet, catching Gil and Sid giving him a thumbs up as they run out the classroom, and looks over at Reggie who is still putting his stuff away.

The vampire took a breath in and walked his way over to the red head's desk, his feet feeling kind of heavy as he gets closer. Be cool Vinnie, just do it. "Hey Reg." His voice called out suddenly, the rest of his body slowly just going with the flow.  Reggie turned his head and smiled up at his friend. "Hey there Vinnie. You usually are gone by now, is Mr. Schneider Sir seeing you after class again?" He asked as he puts his books away in his bag. Vinnie smiles warmly, he enjoys Reggie's voice. The way his small lisp happens between the small gap of the front of his teeth.  The way his voice cracks sometimes in the right moments. Just generally how comforting it is...

The vampire quickly shook his head when he finally notices Reggie is standing up and looking at him with cocoa brown eyes that warm up Vinnie's dead chest, "No no. I just wanted to know...if...um...i-if you don't mind me asking...I uh..."  "Yes Vinnie?" Reggie pressed on. Honestly, it's like he knows what he's doing to me. Vinnie took a gulp from his dry mouth before he spoke a retry, "I just wanted to know...if...if...well...if you're free this weekend? Maybe...we could...go out?" He didn't know if he sounded needy or not but he didn't care, he finally said it!

Reggie blinked a few times before replying, "Of course we can hang out Vin. We often times do already."  "No, Reggie, I meant...go out...like a...date...?" Vinnie was so scared to look at Reggie in the face yet he has to in order to watch his reaction.  And boy was it a reaction... His cute wolf ears were perked down in a way his shyness shows, hard to tell but behind that fur his cheeks were very rosey and red, just looking at him gave Vinnie so much heat on his face he for sure thought he was going to die.

~    ~     ~

Vinnie chuckled softly when Reggie's face on that day came to mind.

Well, yeah, the reply was a day late but nevertheless he said yes.  And the day has finally came.

Vinnie soon landed at Reggie's place, a pretty big home of four stories with a even bigger yard surrounded it of 6 aches each side. He knew Reggie's family owned a big home for such a big family but he honestly wasn't expecting something so... human dream life. A white picket fence wrapping around the areas of land, green grass in perfect height, the house painted in a nice paint of soft blue with the windows having a white coat to the edges, a cute porch sticking out from the big dark brown oak made front door, and to fit so perfectly a nice little porch swing with a small coffee table.  In all honesty neither Vinnie nor Reggie been to each others' houses despite being friends for years. Always staying at the dorms the school gave them for half the week.

The vampire slowly made his way to the porch and gently pulled the rope that rings the door bell loudly it echos around him and to the forest not far from the house itself. He tripled checked in his head the plans of the date as he waits a few seconds before the door opened and Reggie's head popped into view. "Hey Vinnie." Reggie said with a smile and opened the door already for him to step out. "Hey there Reg-" Vinnie nearly chocked on his words upon seeing Reggie. He wasn't wearing anything out of his comfort zone but something Vinnie was expecting obviously... Let alone something his heart was ready for.  There standing in front of him with the shine of the afternoon sun glimmering a special effect through the tree leafs Reggie wearing a typical white button-down shirt and well ironed dress pants but wears also a well knitted beige and blood red pattern pullover sweater vest and a black Letterman jacket with a big red R stitched to his chest's right side, his hair combed in a messy side bangs style to the left side of his face. Honestly, Vinnie doesn't know if this was more cute or sexy and he was pretty scared of both.  "I-I could change if you want..." Reggie stated, snapping Vinnie out of his daze to realize he's been staring holes into the poor werewolf. "No no you're okay Reg. Just uh...caught me off guard is all. It's cool." Vinnie spoke up with his hands up in defense.

Reggie giggles some, causes Vinnie's undead heart to for sure jumble in beats like a drum.

The first stop of this little date for the two monsters was a nice little fly over the town to the date's main destination. Reggie clings to Vinnie from behind, his face so close to his their cheeks are barely touching softly, his eyes watching the town below them. "Gee Vinnie, this is beautiful." He whispered but Vinnie heard it very well, his warm breath gently dancing across Vinnie's ear, his cheeks warming up in a soft shade of pink, a smile appearing on the vampire's lips. If anything, if he had a chance to say it, Reggie was the most beautiful thing to Vinnie's eyes. Though as a sad as it had pained him he knew he would crash into something if he doesn't focus.

His eyes scanned around the area before carefully landing in front of a cafe looking place. Reggie looked around the place when he climbed down from the vampire's back as he tucked in his wings. "Um... Vinnie." Reggie mumbled softly as he dragged his feet closer to Vinnie. Vinnie let out a hum, "Yeah Reg?" "Correct me if I'm wrong but this is a human cafe is it not?" Indeed it was.  "Yeah. I figured to have a nice bite here for a change." "True it's just... don't you rather want to go to Ms. White's Diner? It's one of your favorites right?" Vinnie had to fight back the urge of going to his favorite 50's diner and share a monster shake with Reggie, he had a plan and he's sticking to it. He gently takes his paw and said, "This is just as good Reg, promise. Plus they serve your favorite here. Trust me."  Reggie looked at the place and at Vinnie, seemed to be small on numbers of humans... So it could be okay right?

The two monsters entered the cafe and walked it's way to a table right in the center. The place was nice, clean, quiet, cute, and had a nice nature aesthetic with potted plants hanging from the ceiling and the smell of coffee and tea with some sweets filling your sense of smell. "This place is nice." Reggie said, his eyes focused on every little detail around him.  The V-Man couldn't help but smile proudly, the date's going so well so far.

A waiter walks over to their table with a notepad and spoke to the two teenage monsters, "Afternoon gentlemen. What can I get you for drinks?" Vinnie opened the menu.  "I'd like a black coffee with a side of milk creamer."  The waiter nodded and looked at Reggie waiting for his answer.  The werewolf quietly looked through the menu, his eyes widening like space saucers. "O-Oh my...Um...w-water would be fine..."  The waiter wrote the orders down before hurrying to the back.  Reggie looked at Vinnie with a raised brow, "This place is expensive Vinnie. They don't even serve your favorite drinks here. And I think you need it, you look ill..."

Vinnie knew Reggie was worried, he can hear it in his voice, but he can't simply explain it... Since the night before last he hasn't had a drop of blood to nibble a sip from due to how stressed and nervous he was getting over asking Reggie out and planning out this perfect date. Black coffee was the best he could get to that bitter goodness. And if not, the creamer would do the trick.  Still, he knew he can't say all that to Reggie, not to seem not cool in front of his crush but also because he doesn't want the werewolf to feel bad or blame himself. Instead he just smiles his traditional smile and leaned back in his chair as he coats his voice with soothing calmness, "It's fine Reg. Everything fine actually. I just... had a big batch during breakfast and need the coffee here is good as I'm told. Plus, the money, don't worry. I got it covered." He finishes with a wink and another smile which caused Reggie's shoulders to calm down slightly.

After a few more seconds the waiter returned with their drinks and a notepad still in hand, "Here is your black coffee with a side of milk creamer and your glass of water sirs. May I interest you into something to eat?" Vinnie glances at the man's meaty neck and silently licked his fang out of sights, his brain wracking him inside his skull to try and not accept the urge to chomp down onto that neck and drink up. His hand quickly grabbed the coffee cup as soon as it was set and took a big gulp of it. Bitter. Not as bitter but still helps a little. He thought, feeling his nerves calm down a bit more.  He glances over at Reggie and smiles, "Why don't you order first? I'll follow after."  Reggie fixes his glasses and looked over the menu, a few times his eyes peeking at Vinnie as if asking for his help. "G-Gee...there's a lot of good options... Um..." He pondered out loud, Vinnie could see the human tapping his pen in a annoyance type manner. He bite down on his bottom lip some to fight back his new urge to range his neck.  Before the urge could happen for real, Reggie's voice rang out to Vinnie's ears, "I-I guess I can have the Pea & Carrot Soup with the Greek Salad as the side?"  "And you sir?" Vinnie had to remember how to talk before he took a quick glance at the menu before blurting out his order, "I'd like a French Onion Soup." And like before the man walked away after writing the orders down.

Vinnie noticed Reggie seemed more awkward and fidgety then his usual form.  "Everything alright Reg?" Vinnie asked, his voice truly worried. He truly is worried for Reggie. Maybe he caught that waiter's rudeness towards them because of their race? Maybe it's the fact it's clearly two boys out doing things beyond friends? The vampire's head is just about to explode over the thoughts on what could be wrong with his Reggie- My Reggie? Vinnie thought of having Reggie of his very own before... I mean it did sound nice to him but would Reggie be down to being...

Reggie softly shook his head with a mumbled, "It's nothing, really..." But Vinnie knew something's been bothering his pal. Maybe... Vinnie felt sick thinking this, Maybe he's not comfortable being on a date with me... Before he knew it the food had arrived but the two didn't seem in the mood to enjoy it... Vinnie gulped down the rest of his coffee and stared down at his dish.

Great, my nerves are all over the place now and Reggie ain't having a good time... He thought as he watched Reggie gently nibble on his soup and salad, the two barely having one or two small conversations. This date is going terrible...

The two left the cafe quietly and quickly after paying for the bill. The two were still pretty silent. Reggie broke this awkward pause in the air with a smile, "The food was pretty good Vinnie." Vinnie doesn't reply. "Vinnie..?" Suddenly, the second monster on this date let out a groan like sigh before slumping his body down a grass area in the side walk, "That stupid waiter! 50 bucks and all he had to do is make it nice!"

Reggie tilt his head at this and quietly asked, "What do you mean...?"  There was a pause when Vinnie looked away with no answer, causing it to click to the smarter of the two.  "Vinnie Stoker, did you pay a human waiter for our date?"  Vinnie sighed, "Not just paid Reggie, I paid the guy $50 to hold off any other reservations so it can be just us... I know you don't like really crowded places but that guy ruined it. I wasted 50 from my allowance just to have a guy be rude to you." Vinnie covered his face with his palms. "I'm sorry Reg...I really am..." Surprising Vinnie, Reggie grabbed his hand and pulls him up before guiding him somewhere.

"Hey Reg, where we going?" He asked, but his question fell on deaf ears as the werewolf still guided him silently.  Suddenly the vampire began to feel a new kind of nervous. Was Reggie mad? Was he going to yell at him for bribing a human? Does he know he hasn't been drinking his daily sips of blood?  He felt sick at the ideas of any of those being true and he blew this date... His one chance... And he blew it major time... There might not even be a second chance in this... "Look Reg..." Vinnie started, hanging his head low in shame. Reggie stopped him, "You didn't have to do any of that Vinnie. I would be perfectly fine going to any place we usual go."  Vinnie did not want this date to be ruined. He did not want his friendship to be tainted. All Vinnie wanted to do was do what he planned, even if it was sudden...

"I like you Reggie!"

Reggie stopped suddenly and whipped his head around so fast he must've felt dizzy.  No turning back now huh? Vinnie thought, taking a deep breath in, "I've always liked you Reg... And I mean really like you... Like...Like... I always get happy in the mornings because I get a chance to be near you at school, it's the only reason why I don't ditch as often. And when you're not there I feel sad...so sad I feel sick... I often re-read the messages we send back and forth after school because I miss talking to you that much... A-And that time when I was running for School President and you were helping me... Reggie, I felt so happy just being around you...seeing you so happy at what you were doing... I know this isn't stuff you want to hear instead of a apology...but I swear to you it's truer then true Reggie... I really like you... I've liked you for so long...I don't know when but I know when I figured it out... when you were fallin from the sky and I was running to you... All that's been runnin' around my head was "I can't let him go"... Reggie... you matter to me so much the idea of you not here with me is killing me..."

Vinnie was so scared to look up at his friend, scared he made it worst... "I just...I know this date ended up bad... but I-" Vinnie's words were cut short when he lifted his head to finally face his nerves, quickly his lips were covered by the soft fur of Reggie's lips.  The teen vampire felt his undead heart beat for miles and miles as every second slowly passes by between them, his eyes widen more then the usual wide but slowly his body began to melt by the warmth of Reggie's lips and they slowly blinked to a close while his lips push pressure back into the kiss.

The kiss lasted about a extra minute before the two pulled away, Vinnie's ears catching a soft small puppy like whine coming from deep back within Reggie's neck. "You like my lips that much Reg?" Vinne asked with a tease in his voice, smiling more when see that same expression of bashfulness Vinnie witness when he asked Reggie out in the first place. "Okay, I'm sorry... does...this mean you like me too...?" He asked, hopeful of his words being a positive. Reggie giggles softly, "Of course it means I like you Vinnie... Why else would I agree to go on a date and kiss you?" Vinnie felt stupid asking such a obvious question.  "And...why else would I do this?" After Reggie said that, he guided Vinnie again towards a secret spot. A nice little isolated hill spot overlooking the entire town and beach. Reggie...planned this? The vampire looked at Reggie in disbelief, now noticing the blush fur on his cheeks. "I... I like you too Vinnie... A lot... I've always had felt it too but that day when you risked everything just for me was when I realize it was more then a simple crush... And I wanted to show you how I felt since then...but I was too chicken to even bring it up in conversation... So, when you asked me out, I was nervous that I might miss my shot...so..." "So you ended up setting this up?"  Reggie nodded some, his bangs sweeping over his warm brown eyes in a cute shy manner.

Vinnie smiles softly and wrapped his arms around Reggie's frame, his lips lightly touching a small peck on his cheek. Sure, this wasn't the date I had planned... Reggie giggles and gently sat on the grass, Vinnie following after. The sun was just about going darker as the stars began to appear above them like candles they used to have lit from their old fears of the unknown... Vinnie could help but smile when seeing Reggie's happy face when he cuddles into him.  But I honestly couldn't ask for anything better.

[semperintrepida]

Spark Check

The truck's gas pedal had long been stomped to the floor when Kyra drummed her palms against its steering wheel and tried to coax a little more oomph out of its tired motor. "Come on," she pleaded.

Without her little Toyota, she couldn't have fled Portland and her on-again, off-again relationship with Thal. Their latest blow up had flipped them back to off-again, and this time she had to get away, get out of the city. She was sick of green — she wanted shades of brown: dust and sagebrush as far as her eye could see and sketch and paint. So she'd packed her things and headed for Oregon's high desert, the road taking her southeast into the Cascades, past Mount Hood, and into dense forest dotted with blue lakes.

But it seemed this was as far as her pickup could go, on a long climb up a mountain in the middle of nowhere. The truck had slowed to a crawl, and she pulled over as soon as the roadway widened enough for it to be safe.

"Fuck," she said into the silence.

She jumped out and popped the hood open. The smell of hot rubber and oil surrounded her, and she shook her head at the confusion of belts, cables, and tubing she found inside. Fuck. She'd seen three cars during the hours she'd spent on this road, and when she swiped her phone's screen awake, it showed no signal.

Breathe, Kyra. Think. She was okay for now. She had her backpacking gear, plenty of food and water. She could overnight here just fine. All she had to do was wait. She took another deep breath, then launched a psychic message into the universe: Please send someone to help me.

She glanced around. It was pretty here, at least, with a postcard view of a forested valley from the shoulder of a mountain. The light was decent, if a little harsh, but it wouldn't be long before the sun's angle changed and sent shadows knifing across the road.

All she could do was wait.

A few hours later, she was dozing in the front seat when she heard a far off sound: a deep, loping rumble that grew louder, quickly, into noise that slapped her ears as a dirtbike blew past her without stopping. She slumped back against her seat.

Then brake lights lit up, and the dirtbike made a sharp u-turn in the middle of the road and backtracked closer. Damn, she was kinda hoping for a minivan driven by a soccer mom. She was all by herself out here. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and she got out of the truck and stood by the hood and waited.

Her stomach knotted and her chest tightened as she watched the bike roll to a stop a little ways away. The bike's engine fell silent, and then its rider hopped off and approached her.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, face hidden behind a helmet and mirrored goggles, and his jersey and pants were patterned in brash splotches of black, blue, and yellow. He wore plastic armor slung over his chest, guards over his elbows, and chunky boots. He looked like some futuristic video game warrior.

The boots must have been stiff. He clomped gracelessly towards her while stripping his gloves off to reveal large hands, and then he reached up and unbuckled his helmet. He pulled it free, shook a long dark braid loose over his shoulder, and Kyra froze like a leaf in a cold snap as she realized the rider was a woman.

A fucking hot one, too.

It took Kyra a few moments to recover her poise. "Hi," she said, to keep things simple.

The woman was even hotter when she smiled. "Hey there." Her cheeks and forehead were coated in dust, but it only made the unusual color of her eyes more prominent. 'Brown' and 'hazel' didn't do them justice. They flicked away from Kyra and over to the truck's engine. "Trouble?"

"Yeah. We barely made it up this far."

"Huh. No power?"

Kyra sighed. "Not as much as it should, which isn't much to start with."

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Go right ahead."

The woman bent down to put her helmet on the ground, but Kyra held out a hand and said, "Here, give it to me."

It was lighter than Kyra expected, its dusty white shell covered in scratches and scuffs. She placed it carefully in the truck's front seat, and when she circled back to the engine, the woman had already starting taking things apart.

She held a rubbery cable up to her eye, murmuring to herself as she inspected it. "You got a tool kit?"

"No." Kyra's cheeks warmed. Probably not a great idea to be traveling through BFE without a tool box, but her pickup had never let her down before.

"I've got one that might work. And lucky for you, my bike's Japanese too."

Kyra wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, and she mulled it over as she watched the woman walk to her bike and open the small pack strapped across its tail. Maybe the Japanese had a different school of arcane engine knowledge than anyone else.

The woman returned soon enough, and unfurled a canvas roll of tools that reminded Kyra of the paintbrush case that sat with her art supplies in the passenger seat of her truck, a variety of implements lined up in a neat row. Then the woman was plunging the length of a socket into the engine, turning the wrench with strong hands, pulling it out.

A frisson of excitement shivered out from behind Kyra's eyes, down her spine, and into places between her legs. Her cheeks warmed again, and she ducked her head and hoped she'd gone unnoticed.

The woman tapped something out of the socket into the palm of her hand. A spark plug. She plugged it into the cable. "Let's give it a check. Can you start your truck?"

Kyra hurried off, glad to be given something to do. She moved the helmet aside and slid behind the wheel. "Ready?" she called out.

"Yeah. Go for it."

Kyra turned the key. The engine coughed over unhappily.

The woman's voice floated out from under the hood. "That's enough. Come on back."

When Kyra returned to the front of the truck, the woman held up the cable and said, "You've got a bad spark plug wire. And if one's going bad, the others are too."

Kyra winced. "Perfect." Her breath squeezed out from her, as if a load of sandbags had landed on her chest. If she couldn't get the truck running here, she'd have to get it towed — and she didn't have the money for something like that. She'd have to call Thal, beg him for help—

"Well, Detroit Lake's just down the road. Maybe twenty or thirty miles, but it's downhill the whole way. If you want, I can follow you to make sure you make it there, and then we can figure out what to do next."

That we made the weight on Kyra's chest lose a few pounds. "That sounds great," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"Happy to help."

She extended a hand. "I'm Kyra, by the way."

The woman set the wire down and wiped her hands on her jersey, leaving a dark smudge of grease behind. It would stain if someone didn't soak it in detergent first before washing. She shook Kyra's hand with a firm grip. "Kassandra," she said, along with another smile. "Nice to meet you."

She put the truck back together in short order, and then she was pulling on her helmet and saying, "I'll pass you when we get close to town and you can follow me in." Kyra climbed back into her truck, buckled her seat belt, and tried the key. The engine fired up on her third attempt, and Kyra sighed with relief to be moving again with a clear plan ahead.

It took an hour to coast down that narrow and winding road, and once they reached Detroit Lake, Kassandra led her to a rustic-looking resort nestled among giant trees. The dirtbike came to a stop in front of a small cabin, and Kyra parked alongside it.

While Kyra locked her truck and walked to the steps up to the cabin's porch, Kassandra pushed the bike up the porch's ramp and parked it next to the front door. Kyra waited on the steps as Kassandra removed her gloves and helmet.

"Back to civilization, safe and sound," Kassandra said.

Kyra nodded. "And I owe it all to you." She supposed the tiny gas station across the road counted as civilization. It did have a pay phone.

Awkward silence. Kassandra straightened her braid over her shoulder. "Well, then." Her hands played with the straps on her helmet.

"Can I buy you dinner?"

She looked surprised. "You don't have to do that."

Was she being careful for a reason? Maybe she was taken, and there was someone waiting for her in that cabin. But she was too damn gorgeous for Kyra not to try again. "I insist," she said, letting an amused grin sneak across her lips. "I'm starving, anyway, and you did say we'd figure out what to do next."

Kassandra's hesitation was brief. "All right, then," she said. "But let me change out of"— a gesture at herself —"this, first."

When she emerged from the cabin a few minutes later, her face and neck were damp and she was wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans and a worn pair of work boots. The shirt was tight enough to jolt Kyra's clit wide awake: Kassandra had muscles for days, in the long lines of her forearms, the swell of her biceps, and the curve of her shoulders into honest-to-God traps framing her neck. Generous lips smiled and her eyes sparkled with amusement as she asked, "Are you all right?"

Kyra suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips while running her hands over the washboard abs she knew were hiding under that t-shirt. She swallowed hard and tried not to wriggle out of her skin with want. "I'm fine, yeah."

Kassandra eyed her for a moment. "There's a decent place to eat, up the highway a bit," she said.

Kyra gestured for her to lead the way. Far safer than opening her mouth.

The hamlet of Detroit was bigger than Kyra expected. A marina full of houseboats sprawled by the lakeside, and a handful of shops stood in a cluster a short distance from the cars hurtling up and down the highway.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a building that wore the facade of a hunting lodge, with weathered clapboard siding and a dozen chromed-out motorcycles parked in front. There was probably a deer head mounted on the wall inside.

There was a deer's head mounted on the wall inside, a great big rack of antlers spread above the stone fireplace. They sat, ordered drinks — beer for Kyra and a Jack-and-Coke for Kassandra — and fussed with place settings.

"You come in from Estacada?" Kassandra asked her.

"No, I spent last night camping at Timothy Lake."

Kassandra smiled. "I love it up there. It's gorgeous, and the riding's perfect."

"Is that what you're here for?"

"Yeah, I've got a few days between assignments. My crew just got back from three weeks in Tahoe."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a firefighter." Of course she was. Something must have escaped Kyra's expression because Kassandra grinned at her and added, "Wildland, not the firetrucks, ladders, and dalmatians kind. I work on a Hotshot crew based out of Redmond."

"Hotshot?"

"We work the toughest parts of a forest fire, without any other support. And we direct a lot of the action around us. We go where others can't."

"So you're good at what you do, then."

"I'm very good at what I do." And she had the confidence to match.

They were still smirking at each other when the waitress returned with their drinks. They ordered food. Handed over menus. Kyra excused herself to wash up, and when she came back to their table, Kassandra was staring out the window, showing off a profile so perfect it should have been struck on coins like royalty.

"So what do you do?" Kassandra asked her as she sat down.

"I don't, really." Kyra fought back her embarrassment. Very attractive, not having a job. No, she did work at something — it just didn't pay. Yet.

Kassandra's eyebrow raised.

"I'm an artist."

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"I paint, mostly." She was acutely aware of Kassandra's silent scrutiny. She sipped her beer and kept talking. "Small studies in acrylics, for now. I'm chasing that perfect light."

"Perfect light?"

"Yeah. You know, after sunrise, or before sunset. That golden glow?"

Kassandra nodded.

"It's so perfect it's a cliché. But I'm interested in other kinds of perfection: rays of sunlight moving ahead of a rainstorm, or light passing through ocean waves. Things like that."

"Lots of that around here."

Their eyes met. "Lots of beauty around here, too," Kyra said.

Under the table, Kassandra's leg jerked.

The food arrived just in time to distract them. Kassandra dug into a steak — rare — and an enormous salad. "I eat nothing but processed food and MREs while I'm on assignment," she explained. "The other six months of the year, I eat every vegetable in sight while doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Construction. Fabrication. That sort of thing."

So Kassandra knew about the gig life. "I usually end up finding work as a barista to pay the bills," Kyra said between forkfuls of potatoes au gratin. "I like slinging coffee well enough, but what I really want is to get paid for my paintings."

"A worthy goal."

"I've sold a few here and there, but I can't get my foot in the door of any galleries." She shrugged. "I'm not making the work I want to be, and it shows, I think."

"What's stopping you?"

"Money. Oil paints and canvas get expensive at large scale. I want to paint like J. C. Dahl or Bierstadt did. Huge canvases. Big views. When you look at one of my landscapes, I want you to feel like you could lose yourself in it." She scraped her fork through the remnants of potato on her plate. "But that kind of neo-luminism isn't exactly burning up the auction houses these days. I'd be better off learning how to paint with a spray can and a stencil." She gave Kassandra an apologetic smile. "And look at me, boring you with all this talk about my nonexistent career."

"I'm not bored. It's just that everything I know about art went into the finger paintings I made when I was in grade school."

Kyra laughed. "Well, I don't know a single thing about fighting fire, so I won't hold it against you."

"At least we've got something in common."

"What's that?"

"You make sacrifices to do what you love. You live with the uncertainty, and I bet you know how to make a dollar go a long way." She smiled faintly. "I know... because I do the same."

"Maybe you can give me some tips on dealing with the uncertainty part," Kyra said. That was what was hardest, not having control of her life, not having a plan.

"Ask away, if there's something you want to know."

There were a lot of things about Kassandra that Kyra wanted to know, but she steered the conversation in a lighter direction, and the second round of drinks became a third while their knees kept brushing under the table, and the biker gang peeled out of the parking lot with a cloud of exhaust and noise, and the shadows grew long across the highway.

"Sun's going to set soon," Kassandra said. "Where were you planning to stay tonight?"

"I was hoping to make it to Bend today, but that plan's been shot to hell. And I bet there aren't any vacant hotels around here."

"Not this time of year. I got lucky finding this room — someone bailed on a reservation." She slid her empty glass back and forth on the table in front of her, as if the coaster was a raft she was guiding through rapids.

"Looks like I'm sleeping in the canopy of my truck, then. Wouldn't be the first time."

Kassandra's glass lurched to a stop. "Tell you what. You're welcome to crash in my room tonight. We can take my truck in to Stayton in the morning, find you some new spark plugs and wires. You'll be back on the road well before noon." She'd said it in a rush, as if she'd reached a chute in the rapids and had no choice but to follow it on down.

Kyra breathed in slowly. It wouldn't do to seem too eager. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm grateful for the help."

They bickered gently over the check, when it came; Kyra wanting to pay the whole thing like she'd promised, and Kassandra insisting on covering her share. Kyra sensed her digging in, unwilling to cross some line of propriety she'd set for herself, and so Kyra relented. There were too many hills around her for all of them to be ones to die on.

On the walk back to the cabin, Kassandra told her about a wildfire she'd worked not far from here, felling trees and digging fireline along a ridge in a forest dried-out from years of drought, the flames in the canyon below burning so intensely that the heat had created its own thunderstorm right above it. She'd dug and dug, rain and hail pelting her hard hat while bright blue skies stretched behind her all the way to Mount Hood on the horizon.

"That sounds... beautiful and terrifying," Kyra said as Kassandra opened the door to the cabin and gestured her inside.

"It's often both, yeah."

The room wasn't large, but the bed was. Bed in the singular. Kyra kept her smirk internal.

A small sofa sat across from the bed, a TV hid in the corner, and two doorways led to rooms unknown. Wood paneling on the walls, simple wooden furniture. Kassandra's belongings were organized neatly in an open wardrobe.

Kassandra made a beeline for the sofa. She plopped down onto it, stretched her arms out to both sides. Her arm span was wider than the sofa was. "I'll sleep here." She bounced up and down, ignoring the dire creaking of its springs.

"This is your room."

She shrugged, then leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. "So? You're my guest."

"You're six feet tall and that sofa's the size of a postage stamp. I'll sleep on it before you do." Kyra crossed her arms. "But really, there's no reason why we can't share the bed."

Kassandra had started twisting her fingers together; locking them in place, breaking them apart. "I can't have you thinking that I brought you here because I'm wanting something from you, for helping you with your truck. I'll sleep right here. It's fine."

Kyra had to shoot her shot, right now, or she'd end up sleeping in that big bed all alone. "Maybe I'm wanting something from you."

Troubled eyes looked up. God, she was gorgeous. "I... " she started. Stopped. And Kyra's heart sank. This is when Kassandra would tell her she was taken, that she had someone back home to soak those grease stains out of her jersey, to worry about her when she was working a fire, to—

"I was hoping you'd say something like that," Kassandra said softly.

Kyra took her by the hand, pulled her to her feet, and then Kyra slid her palms along the undersides of Kassandra's forearms. Heavy. Solid, like bronze. But that was the color of Kassandra's eyes, and when Kyra kissed her it was like a circuit closing like an arc lamp turning night into day like a quality of light she'd never seen before but knew she'd be chasing the rest of her life.

When they parted, Kyra was breathless, and she tucked her face into the curve of Kassandra's neck, feeling the steady cadence of her breathing. "Kassandra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm so glad you didn't turn out to be some redneck."

Kassandra's laugh filled the room, and she gathered Kyra's face in her hands and looked at her. "Honestly, when I saw your rig, I was expecting some dried-up gold miner with shaggy hair and missing teeth."

"You thought wrong, Bubba."

Kassandra laughed again. Kissed her again. But when Kyra's hands strayed down to her belt, she pulled away. "Hey, slow down there, forty-niner. I'm pretty sure I have dust in unmentionable places."

"Do you really think I'd let a little dust get in the way of working my claim?" She reached for Kassandra again.

Her paydirt maneuvered away a second time. "I kinda want to take a shower..."

She waited for the rest.

"Think you might like to join me?"

She answered by curling her fingers around Kassandra's belt, and she glanced about the room, considering her doorway options.

"That way," Kassandra murmured along with a tilt of her head.

She pulled Kassandra to the bathroom, each step driving her to even giddier heights. Was this even happening right now?

Kassandra flipped the lights on. Clean, white tile and a matching shower. Nicer than Kyra had expected.

"This could either be really awkward or really hot," Kassandra said.

"You think this'll be awkward?" Kyra smirked and reached for Kassandra. There was no hiding in this light, no place for anything but want and confidence, and Kyra found her confidence in wanting to get Kassandra naked. Kassandra's t-shirt and sports bra ended up getting tossed in a corner, and then Kyra couldn't resist, she just had to kiss Kassandra while her hands found leather and metal to unbuckle, and she pushed fabric down over hips and thighs until Kassandra kicked it all free and stood naked before her in full glory.

Oh my God. Not only did Kassandra have muscles for days, she had them for weeks and months and years. Her proportions were perfect, in the horizontal of her shoulders to hips and the vertical of her torso to legs. Kyra's mouth went dry, her moisture draining to places south of her waist.

Kassandra flashed a rakish grin, then stepped into the shower, turning knobs while Kyra waited. Water jetted against tile with a loud hiss. Kassandra seemed to take a very long time — or maybe that was Kyra's thirst wringing out the clock in its search for droplets of satisfaction — but when Kassandra finally came back, she undressed Kyra with a touch both careful and reverent, her eyes drinking in the sight of Kyra's skin with every slow reveal.

Heat burned between Kyra's legs. Steam filled the bathroom. Her clothes joined the pile in the corner, and Kassandra's hands came to rest on her hips. She reached for Kassandra's braid, untied it, and worked the thick mane loose — along with a puff of dust.

Kassandra truly was covered in it, in streaks running down her steam-dampened skin. Kyra laughed and traced her finger through the grime between Kassandra's breasts, then drew an X on Kassandra's stomach. The hands on her hips shifted, nudging her towards the shower until she stood basking under its pleasantly hot spray.

The pressure was good: in the stream of water and the feel of Kassandra's hands on her skin. Calloused palms scratched and tickled the sides of her breasts, and she wriggled away, prompting an insincere "Sorry" as Kassandra played with her, alternating soft strokes from her fingertips with rougher ones from her palms.

Kyra bit back her want, slipped out of Kassandra's grasp, and said, "Your turn."

As Kassandra stood under the water, Kyra enjoyed the way it beaded over her skin, the way she glistened in the light. Then looking wasn't enough, and Kyra had to sample Kassandra's broad shoulders, the firm planes of her chest, the soft weight of breasts and plump nipples so different than a man. She smelled different too, none of that tang that men always had about them. It had been too long since Kyra had been with a woman, and Kassandra was showing her how foolish that was.

Kyra pulled Kassandra closer, pressed her up against the wall, and kissed her. Wet lips, water in her mouth, soft slick tongue. She was delicious, and Kyra grew greedy, wanting more more more as she ran her hands over sculpted abs and slid them lower—

That earned her hands a playful slap from Kassandra. "Ah, ah, ah. Hands off. I don't want to be distracted," she said, as she snagged the soap from a niche in the shower wall.

She knew exactly what she was doing, making Kyra wait, making Kyra watch as she soaped her skin and scrubbed it into a lather, making Kyra thirst while surrounded by water as she washed her hair. Her shampoo had the fresh, airy smell of citrus. It filled the shower, wrapped Kyra in its enticing steam.

This was a fierce kind of want. She scowled, snatched up the shampoo bottle, washed her hair as Kassandra emerged from the water clean and magnificent. The sight was too much; she turned her back to Kassandra as she rinsed herself. But as the last of the suds swirled down the drain, Kassandra's hands gently turned her around and soaped her from head to toe and she forgot everything except the hand slipping over her belly into the crease of her hip, slipping between her thighs, so close to where she needed, hovering without touching, moving from thigh to thigh—

"Fuck," she gasped.

"Is that what you want?" Kassandra asked. Her smirking grin was an inch away from Kyra's lips.

Kyra stared daggers at her.

"Sorry, you'll have to wait a bit longer," she said, and then she carefully rinsed Kyra clean. It was thorough, and luxurious, and melted Kyra's pique into forgiveness. She closed her eyes and her muscles went soft and pliant under Kassandra's hands, and she felt herself being guided out of the shower. She stood in the middle of the bathroom, waiting. Kassandra moved away. Kassandra came back. She rubbed Kyra down with a fluffy towel, wrapped her in it, then picked her up with breathtaking ease and carried her to the bed.

The length of Kassandra's body settled against hers. Dangerous weight. She could pin Kyra down, crush her with all that muscle. The towel bloomed open. Goosebumps sprouted across damp skin. The only illumination in the room came from the light in the bath. It snuck past the drape of Kassandra's hair and threw shadows across her face, and her eyes captured the sparks of want passing between them.

All that muscle on top of her, mouth at her throat, hands on her hips. Kyra's want buzzed and flickered, like a spotlight warming up. Now, find out now. She fit her thigh up between Kassandra's legs, pressed hard. A gasp from above. Kyra's heartbeat doubled-up, and there was no stopping her leg twining around Kassandra's. "Roll over." A demand, not a question.

Kassandra blinked, tilted her head as she searched Kyra's face. The sparks in her eyes danced. Really?

Yes, really. Kyra shifted her weight, used her leg as a pivot... and felt Kassandra yield.

All that muscle moved beneath her, hips made to be straddled, shadowed curves meant to be explored. Kyra's blood pulsed with an illicit thrill as she leaned forward. Skin pressing together. Breasts nestling together. Damp heat, water turning to sweat.

She kissed Kassandra, tasted her hunger, her soft mouth opening to let Kyra in. No games and no playing hard to get. Her want, Kyra's want, their want speaking in tongues. Kassandra's fingers tangled in her hair. That mouth should be on her clit. Those fingers should be inside her.

Wait. Wait longer. She sucked at Kassandra's lower lip, raked it with her teeth, apologized with her tongue. She pulled her mouth away, smiled as Kassandra groaned and stirred, muscles bunching, eyes burning like carbon filaments, captive and captivated. Kyra moved her mouth lower: the silvery scar on Kassandra's chin, the rapid pulse at her throat, the wings of her collarbones. Lower, until her lips found the soft swell of a breast, the nipple she could persuade to grow harder with teasing lips and tongue. First one, then the other. And Kassandra's back arched: Yes.

How sweet of her to offer. Kyra slid off to the side, surveying the chiaroscuro of the exposed planes of Kassandra's body. Choices, choices. Kassandra's spectacular abs, or the inviting shadows between her thighs?

Both. Kyra was getting greedy again. She ran her tongue along the sculpted grooves of Kassandra's stomach and slid her hand into soft curls. Swollen heat. Desire soaking her fingers, satisfying in a way arousing a man never was. And making this particular woman so wet... She smiled and drifted her mouth lower, tasted her own desire in a trail she'd left on Kassandra's belly, and her clit was bright and burning and her ache went deep, wanting to be fucked, wanting to fuck.

She stroked slick fingers everywhere but the places Kassandra wanted. Hard to be so patient, when every touch felt like it reflected back at her, teasing and being teased. She was dripping. Kassandra was dripping, her body twisting restlessly in a tangle of sheets and towels. Kyra stopped moving. Her fingertips hovered, waiting. And Kassandra's hips lifted: More.

Kyra's mouth was almost too close to Kassandra's clit. It tempted her, nestled in dark, feathery curls, proud and swollen and hard. That was Kyra's doing. She'd made that happen. Hard not to let that surge of power go straight to her clit, and she closed her eyes against the bright flare of her own need.

Focus. Come back. Breathe in air heavy with warm, damp arousal. Breathe it out across Kassandra's sensitive flesh. Kassandra squirmed under her cheek and let out a frustrated moan.

That sound was pleasing, and she dipped the tips of her fingers into silky wetness. The tiniest taste, no more. Kassandra's moans grew louder. Kyra's blood beat in her ears. So easy, capturing Kassandra's full attention in the spotlight of her breath and the smallest movements of her fingertips.

Wait. Move slowly. Kassandra's muscles corded and strained, and Kyra wound them tighter and tighter with every touch. All that strength in thrall to her fingers — the rush lifted Kyra to stratospheric heights. She could glide on it, never come down. She lost all track of time in the artificial, unchanging light. How long had she kept Kassandra like this? How long could she?

Beneath her, Kassandra was panting with her thighs spread wide. She rocked her hips, chasing Kyra's fingers, and Kyra made her fail again and again. Her attempts grew half-hearted. She gave up trying.

This was Kassandra primed like a canvas: body taut beyond trembling, senses tuned to Kyra, clit starved for attention.

Kassandra's sounds devolved into one long, unbroken whimper. And then, finally, Kyra went to work, sucking Kassandra into her mouth and easing her fingers all the way inside.

Nothing fancy: steady strokes, tongue on clit, the way women have been getting each other off since ancient times. She'd already tested Kassandra's patience at least that long.

Kassandra whispered Yes and Fuck to guide her. Kassandra angled her hips just so. Kassandra snapped at the point of release with a sudden growl, her hands grabbing fistfuls of bedsheets as she writhed, lost in pleasure.

Kassandra throbbed against her tongue and pulsed around her fingers and Kyra lay there not moving not wanting to move in the golden glow, wanting it to stay wanting to capture it and keep it.

But it faded, eventually. She slid up the bed and rested her head on Kassandra's shoulder and smiled for a long, long time.

"I'll be damned," Kassandra said quietly, once she caught her breath. "Is that how you always say thank you?"

"When I'm feeling inspired."

"You really are an artist."

Kyra smirked. No matter how the rest of their time together played out, she'd always have the memory of Kassandra writhing around her fingers.

The mattress compressed as Kassandra knelt above her. Kassandra rested a hand on her belly, and though there was no weight behind it, it pinned Kyra right to the bed.

"Well," Kassandra said. "You certainly set the bar high, honey. But it's my turn now."

Kyra opened her arms wide and gave Kassandra her dirtiest come-hither look. "Show me what you've got, hotshot."

Kassandra smiled, and did.

Part of the Heat Index...

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “Rescue Without Reward”

I had been planning to write something similar to this for a long time, but @cyberstrikebeast also suggested it, so thought this was about the time to try it.  Again, just something fun and easy I wrote really quick for today. Hope you all like it and have a good day :) 

The planet was quite beautiful. The GA scientific team, brought on world with a protective detail of UNSC Harbinger marines, stood outside the open shuttle doors and stared around  at the mesmerizing landscape.

They had landed on a wide outcropping of rock  surrounded on all sides by shallow pools of still water sectioned off into ponds that, from above, looked like the organizational structure of cells seen under a microscope. The rock itself was almost pure white glittering brightly in the cold, distant light of the star. A range of small black hills rose over the pools in the distance, and the occasional monolith of rock rose form the landscape cutting high into the air at odd intervals framed magnificently by the shadow of a neighboring gas giant and its rocky concentric rings. Weather it was due to some strange atmospheric occurrence, or the way the star’s light hit the atmosphere, the sky was a striking pinkish purple cut across with clouds tinted blue.

The magnificent scene from above was reflected against the water below giving the alien landscape an even more alien quality.

Members of the GA research team stood wide eyed in wonder while their protective detail of humans muttered in appreciation for the scene.

“Damn that’s awesome.” 

One of the humans pulled out some sort of device pointing it towards the scene before stowing it back in her pocket.

“Send that to me when we get back onboard the ship.” Someone was saying, and the agreement was quickly made.

The humans, serious about their duties moved into position around them. Along with the humans, they were accompanied by two Drev, one small and glittering with blue armor, while the other was absolutely towering and glittering with bright red armor. The humans formed around the GA team like the head of an arrow meters away from each other but still close enough to be in sight.

The commanding human, stayed on the inside three rows deep behind the arrowhead directing their movement as they moved out towards the pools of water. The first human was ordered to test the integrity of the ground pressing his boot against the narrow rock shelves which separated the pools. Finding that it was enough to hold his weight, he moved forward, and the others fanned out behind him making different ways across the little rock shelves.

When asked why they didn’t just walk in single file, the humans said something about avoiding an ambush. This idea made their companions rather nervous, but there was nothing for it at this point, and so they followed the strange, powerful predictors across the open landscape.taking samples and doing their best not to leave anything behind.

All of them had been decontaminated before leaving the ship, but still the human body was a biome of bacteria, so all the accompanying humans were forced to wear full face masks and goggles just to keep their germs away from a potentially delicate environment before it was tested to susceptibility. The last pool of water faded behind them, and they stepped foot into a thick growth of trees.

Of course to call them trees was a rather strange way of putting it. They were a little bit like tree roots in the way that they twisted, and kind of like trees in the way they reached towards the sky, but otherwise they were more like strange twisted skeletons rising from the ground. They had no leaves and no branches really simply twisted black forms rising from the ground a good ten to twenty feet splitting at odd intervals into their “branches, which plunged back downwards into the soil covered all over in patches of turquoise moss. 

They were growing in such a way that you could walk underneath them, and through their twisting branches. The ground was sort of mossy, bright green in most cases with a splash of purple. Aside from the trees they were these, giant bright-orange ferns that towered into the air and cast themselves downwards under their own weight bringing the ground into shadow against the sun. They were placed at distant intervals from each other leaving enough room for the strange tree-like things, and a lot of the forest floor moss.

There were thousands of other little ferns, some in spiral shapes and others, in bright blue, which looked like giant blades of grass rising into the air patterns of dark black cutting up their surfaces like tiger stripes.

“Ah! Don’t you dare touch that.” The leading human ordered, and the marine at the front of the column withdrew her hand wilting.

“Yeah I know it looks cool, but it could be poisonous.” Their leader walked up and rested a hand on her shoulder, “It’s alright,...” His voice lowered, “If I am being honest with you, I want to touch it too.” 

The GA members looked on in worry at the human’s conversation. They had gotten into some sticky situations, with this particular crew, from touching strange plant life in the past, and they were not interested in repeating such a situation. Luckily for them, the humans found some semblance of self control and kept their hands to themselves as they moved through the strange forest.

A white critter with one leg and one eye blinked warily at them from under a fern before leaping away into blackness.

The humans watched it go with mild fascination as the creature used it’s coil to bounce off the ground and into the bushes.

The temperature hovered a few degrees below freezing despite the tropical-esque plantlife that seemed to dominate the forest. It was hard to discern just how the plants survived in such an environment, but that is what they intended to learn. A low fog rolled in at some point plunging them into an eerie world of uncertainty.

With some trepidation, the humans constricted their triangle in order to see each other through the mist.

It was at that precise moment that they heard it, the strange sound rising on the air. It was close by. An echoing trumpeting bugle that rattled and wavered before dying back into darkness. In response, all the humans hunched into a low crouch weapons at the ready. It had a strange almost…. Metallic noise to it as if made by a rundi ship, but not quite.

It was difficult to explain as none of them had ever heard such a sound before.

A few moments past, and then they sound came again rising in the air and then dying back into a sort of thrumming gurgle.

The GA scientists shifted nervously.

One moved forward approaching the humans as they talked quietly to each other through their earpieces. One of the members tugged on the elad human’s hand, and he turned to look blinking at him with his single eye.

The expression was disconcerting, “What is that?” They wondered.

The humans looked at each other with a shrug, “We aren’t entirely sure right now.” 

Again came the low bellowing rattling through the trees and echoing through the forest.

“Some kind of animal/” One of the other humans wondered.

“That would be my first guess.” Said the one-eyed human

“Should we head out?” They asked glancing into the fog and towards that echoing sound.

The lead human paused head tilted to the side as the sound came again, “No…. it doesn't seem to be moving in this direction. In fact, it doesn’t seem to be moving at all.” The aliens looked on in surprise at the human’s confidence. Of course they could all hear the noise, but theirs was not so tuned as to locate or detect where it was in the environment. It could be anywhere for all they knew.

The human kept his head tilted and continued to listen, “it sounds…. In… distress.”

GA representatives looked on in consternation, “how could you possibly think to tell that. You’ve never heard the creature before. Perhaps it is a mating call, perhaps it is hunting, and perhaps it is giving birth. There could be any number of reasons.”

The human shook his head with a frown, “I…. something just feels off about it. Hard to explain…. I think we should at least head in that direction to see what is going on.” 

To the incredulity of the watching aliens, the rest of the humans agreed, though hesitantly, shouldering their weapons and forming into firing positions behind the first human.

With her weapon shouldered, the small blue Drev walked over and allowed the leading human to climb onto her back bracing his weapon against her shoulder and he directed her to the trees. The GA representative hung back towards the back of the group as the humans made their way into the fog. It’s not like it mattered though, if they were forced to run the humans would be much faster, and would outstrip them in minutes anyway.

As they walked, the distant bellowing grew louder and louder until they broke through the ferns and fog at the edge of a clearing. The humans stopped just ahead.

“Sweet Jupiter.” One of them muttered.

His expletives came at the behest of a strange scene. To the shock of the GA the leading human’s guess at the strange sound was correct. There was in fact a creature, that did, appear to be in distress. It was a strange creature tall and gangly with four long legs, or what they guessed to be long, and a short sloping back.

It had a long neck and head whose muzzle was long and conical tapering towards a shallow point at the end. As it trumpeted, it would tilt its head back and emit the noises from the small round mouth at the end of it’s cone, face. The head itself was topped by a strange array of what must have been either antlers or horns, many ending in sharp bladed leaf-like points. 

On the creature’s back this same leaf like pattern continued, but with long feathered protrusions that flared when it bellowed sticking upwards and outwards two feet on either side.its body was furless, so there was another mystery as to how it survived in the cold, but it’s skin was a strange flower orange color hinting towards pink, very bright and shocking against the mud and the mist. 

They could only assume the creature was tall based on its neck and body as much of it was hidden below a gelatinous mass of frozen mud which shifted and squelched as it struggled unmoving and getting nowhere.

It bellowed another mournful cry.

The humans had stopped in the clearing a few stepping closer to get a better look.

The GA representatives relaxed. If it was trapped, than it wouldn't be able to hurt them. 

However, the humans began to move closer, causing the GA representatives to shift nervously in their places.

Seeing the humans the animal began to bellow wildly and thrash, and who could blame it as the predatory species moved around in a tight circle examining the creature.

“We should move on.” One of the GA reps stated nervously as the humans returned to their beginning circle.

The main human frowned at them, “what? ANd just leave it here.”

The GA scientists looked at him in consternation, “Well of course we are going to leave it here, what else would we do.”

The human held out his hands to either side, “Rescue it obviously. We can’t just let it die there, whatever it is.”

“Commander, it is no place of ours to intervene with the natural order.” “Clearly you don’t know humans very well.” he shot back, and the other humans began to mutter in agreement.

“Commander, what reason would we ever have to rescue that thing. What would be the point. It would only waste time energy and resources, and just look at the thing. If you get any closer it will gore you.”

With a stubborn shake of the head, the human glowered at them, “because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Who said that.”

“I did.” The human responded petulantly before turning to look at his men, “We are going to need tow cables, and anything else that we can come up with. Maybe a shovel if you have one. We aren’t going to leave this poor thing here to die.”

Behind them the creature was still thrashing in the bog as the humans began to gather their material, a few of them running back towards the landing shuttle to gather supplies they had neglected to bring, unknowing what was to happen. The GA scientists watched in consternation and a mild bit of annoyance. It didn’t make any sense, there was no reason for humans to be out here doing what they were doing. They had no idea what the creature was or what it could do, and for all they knew it would rip them in half as soon as it was able. In fact, this may just be how it lured it’s prey in before drinking their blood.

They had no way of knowing.

But still the humans insisted on doing what they were doing. Ropes and cables were brought. The humans discussed the best way to retrieve the creature. The commander took suggestions drew up plans in the dirt and offered to do the most dangerous part of the operation, seeing that it had been his idea to begin with, not that the other humans were disagreeing with him, and his choice.

The scientists watched from the forest as the human slowly began approaching the creature. He had the rope in one hand opened into a wide loop that had been tied by one of the marines. He approached slowly foot by foot. It was clear he did not go without notice, and the creature began to balk and shriek as he approached.

It jerked its head sending its knife like bladed horns flying in all directions. The human had to step back more than once out of the way of the thrashing creature.

“Shhh, shh. Its ok.” He was saying, doing his best to sooth the creature that didn’t seem intent on being soothed. This went on for more than an hour as the human attempted to get closer to the creature only to be driven away by the things bladed horns. Slowly, however, the creature began to lose energy bugling less, and slumping deeper down into the mud. The human grew closer and closer before eventually, reaching out and tossing the coil over the creature’s antlers.

It didn’t move but lowed piteously.

“Shh it’s ok. We’re going to have you out in no time. Just relax.” The human urged slowly reaching out to adjust the rope over the thing’s antlers.

His hand was right next to the creature’s multiple eyes.

It’s sides heaved in fear.

The human stepped back and motioned to the marines who moved forward to further secure the animal.

The commander reached out hesitantly brushing his fingers over the things neck. It recoiled at his touch.

“Shh. You’ll be ok.” He muttered resting the flat of his hand on the creature’s muscled neck. At first it shied away from him, but eventually relaxed still breathing heavily, eyes wide with fear.

Establishing a solid connection, the commander ordered his men back into position before stepping away to join them, “Come on, pull.” He grabbed the rope along with them, and together the humans began to pull. A small group of them wasn’t nearly enough to do more than cause the animal to bugle.

He ordered some of the others over, “Just pull enough to loosen it up, and then we can get closer so we don’t hurt it’s neck.” They agreed, and another group of marines walked up grabbing the rope and began to haul on it. Together the humans worked in unison rocking back and forth chanting in unison as they began to pull. If they had thought that one powerful human was impressive, the might of at least six was greater than impressive.

There was a sharp sucking sound as the creature’s legs shifted in the mud, and they lurched back.

“Hold it there.” He ordered three marines motioning two others with him as he moved forward.

He came in first between the creature and his men flexing his gloved hands, “IT’s alright, you’re almost out.” The creature just looked at him with wide frightened eyes.

He reached out delicately wrapping his hands around the base of its horns. He was just inches away from it’s huffing mouth.

“On my order…!... PULL!” They began to pull again and he gripped the creature tight hauling backwards with his feet digging into the soil. They strained and pulled for the longest time dirt giving inch by inch.

It would have taken ages if they ever did manage.

Until the two Drev took hold of the rope. They clearly didn’t understand what was going on either, but they decided to help. 

ONe tug, a single tug. The mud made a sucking noise, the humans staggered back, and the commander flopped to his back still gripping the beast’s antlers. The creature was pulled bodily out of the mud, it’s long dangling legs stiff rigid it’s head lying on the commander’s chest it’s antlers just inches from his face.

He was breathing hard staring up at the razor edges.

With some difficulty, the human pulled back undoing the rope form the creature’s antlers as it lay in the mud before making a prudent retreat backwards. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Using the rope he had taken from the antlers, he secured a loop around the front feet of the creature, strange, with three toes looking almost like fingers two facing forward and one facing back. Once standing, it seemed as if the animal would walk on the knuckles of the front two fingers and stabilize itself with the back appendage…. Like a thumb. 

That done, he ordered the marines to pull very slowly and gently dragging the animal up onto the bank before retrieving his rope and making a hasty exit back towards his men. 

The creature didn’t move for a very long time before slowly lifting it’s head and folding it’s legs. It sat there for an even longer time appearing almost confused as it turned it’s head to look at the watching humans. It had probably expected the predatory animals to go right ahead and eat it, but here it was…. Free. 

It let off a soft bugle, and this time the call was returned from the distance.

As they watched, the creature urged to it’s four legs awkward with what appeared to be two knee joints as well as an ankle. The creature was quite tall when it stood upright.

It was watching them.

The humans grew very still.

The thing hesitantly stepped towards them leaning closer with its long neck. Something like a strange white tongue flicked from it’s circular mouth. They stood facing each other for many seconds eventually broken up by the call just outside the clearing.

All together they turned as the thing’s companion stepped into the trees. This one was a light peach color, almost as tall as the first but missing the antlers. Instead it had many of those long clear feathers dangling from it’s head and reaching towards the ground. 

Around it’s feet there pranced at least ten very tiny orange creatures that looked like them in a vague sort of way. Like how a caterpillar kind of looks like a butterfly if you ignore the wings. Humans and GA scientists alike remained silent, watching as the tall horned beast took a few wobbly steps towards it’s little family turning its head to look at them one more time before vanishing into the trees.

It made no sense really. There was no reason for the behavior of the humans. The act itself didn’t reward them anything. In fact, they lost both time and resources trying to help the creature. The commander risked his life and limb against something that could easily have eviscerated him if it had really wanted too.

What they didn’t understand is that this behavior is quite common in humans.

Perhaps it has something to do with their great amount of empathy, but whatever the case.

The good of humanity doesn’t like to leave anyone to suffer weather it be human alien or beast. 

[ghostboy-gamedev]

Learn Log #4 - Grassy Grove

On week 4 of my pixel art journey, I learned how to make objects of nature including grass, bushes and trees. Unfortunately, I had to postpone this to this week when the learning and blog post was set for last week as I was just preparing for a return to university (it’s all online – social distancing dw). Anyway, I ended up making the forest scene you see above, and it was a lot of fun. I think that the GUI elements last week had a focus on technicality and exactness. Letters are very rigid, and we have somewhat set ideas about what each character should look like. However, nature is more flexible and therefore logic isn’t as heavily involved.

Tile Sets

Before jumping into the actual elements of this week’s piece I want to talk about making pixel art tiles. You will have probably noticed that the nature scene is quite rigid like each element is set into a box. This is because I’m learning pixel art to make games and games often use tile sprites to build their environment.

Tile sprites are the floors and sometimes walls of the environment. They often loop or repeat to cover the environment, however, some engines have tools allowing game designers to build environments tile by tile.

In the first case, the tile sprite will have to be created with its looping in mind and details may be added to provide variation in the environment. However, these added details may highlight the repeating the pattern and the more a detail sticks out the obvious the repetition becomes. Additionally, smaller tiles will repeat more frequently, and this also shows repeating textures.

The second scenario requires variation to be created from the creation of multiple tiles. This is great for creating variation; however, the tiles will also have to line up with each other which may be trickier for more rigid surfaces like rocks or bricks.

Since Unity has a tile builder tool and I was creating a natural environment where tiles wouldn’t need to line up so clearly – I decided to go with the second option.

The size of the tiles may also dictate the size of the rest of the game. For example, a bush may be 1 tile large in terms of level design, so the size of that bush is determined by the size of the tile. This also goes for the player whose sprite will typically range from 1 tile to 2x2 tiles. I decided to just make my tiles 16x16 as I enjoy learning within that space.

Grass

A grass tile is typically made of a green background with blades of grass texturing the surface. Many people may open up a couple of green canvases and start texturing them with green lines, however, there’s a much better way to do things I think. Since we’re working with 16x16 tiles there’s a limited number of shapes that look like grass and are small enough to fit within the tile. So, if we make a bunch of lines in green then we have blades of grass that we can copy and paste into each tile (the blades should typically be a lighter green as light will be hitting them).

However, having blades of grass like this make tiles look flat. Adding shading will fix this issue by giving the grass depth, however, more complicated shading will obviously make the background more complicated which can affect the readability of your game.

Each blade of grass can now be copied into a 16x16 canvas to make grass tiles. I made 4 grass tiles shown below putting approximately 10 blades into each tile. I made each tile with different elements of the environment in mind such as short grass, long grass, bushy grass and leafy grass.

With these tiles, I created a larger image to test the repetition of the tiles. The repetition wasn’t a big issue; however, I didn’t think the leafy grass fit with the rest of the grass, so I decided to leave it behind for the next stage.

Next, I was going to add an extra tile for each of the current textures to reduce repetition as well as two flower variants for each tile type to add some colours into the textures. I did another test of the tiles’ repetition and overall look and it looked good but somewhat cluttered though I figured that this wouldn’t be an issue when I deliberately place the tiles rather than randomly scatter them.

I had in my mind the type of scene I wanted to make for this week, but it required dirt paths. Luckily this wasn’t an issue to make. I made two variations of the straight, one-way paths as they would be tiling and altered one of these tiles slightly to make the curve and intersection tiles.

I then assembled these 15 tiles into the image below.

Trees

Next, I wanted to add some plant life which would involve trees and bushes. I decided to do trees first as they would be larger than the bushes. First, I started with the shape of the tree which would be fairly basic. I made a rough tree trunk shape to start with and topped it with a circle that was a little squished before refining the shape a little more to get what’s shown below.

I then added colour into the tree. A simple brown for the bark and 4 shades of green for the leaves. These greens were made by colour picking the base green background and hue-shifting it towards yellow so the tree would stand out more from the background.

The colours are organised into ovals to help give the tree a sense of depth. The dark shades wrap around the edges of the tree to show the tree’s roundness. The colour thins out as it goes around because you’re viewing the shaded leaves from a side-on perspective.

Next, I blurred the lines between these circles by mixing the colours slightly. This was the start of adding leaves onto the tree. Quickly after that, I added more detail to the leaves by spotting the head of the tree with lighter greens. The details added were in ‘leaf-like’ shapes like hearts, single lines, and arrows. They don’t look like leaves individually and can’t receive much detail themselves (such as a stem) but together they make the tree look nice and bushy. I also added some detail to the tree trunk including shading.

The tree trunk seemed a little off when I checked it out with the image I had so far, unfortunately. So, I added some extra trunk at the bottom along with a nice shadow. This shadow was the colour black at a transparency of 127 (or half transparency). This works really well as a quick and easy shadow on detailed background, but it does, unfortunately, mean the shaded area is not hue-shifted as typically preferred. The final product is below.

Looking at this sprite you may think it would be difficult to construct a game environment due to the leaves, trunk shape and shadow involved. However, we can place each section down as a separate 16x16 tile with the main trunk tile being a collider and other tiles not having a collision box (like decoration tiles – we don’t want players to run into tree leaves). This works out really well, and I focused on the main trunk tile when positioning the sprite in the piece. Which is shown below.

However, the scene below is bit lonely so I thought I’d add some pine trees as a level border. The process of the pine tree is similar so I won’t describe each step but will show the images. This time around I did shape the tree a bit more wildly with branches and leaves sticking out from the tree. I also hue shifted towards bluer colours rather than the more yellow colours I used in the round tree.

Next, it was time to add more trees into the scene and add some grass beneath them. I made the grass beneath them short grass simply because it looks a bit neater than the other grass types.

I think it looks pretty neat! I made a pine tree variant by swapping the colours with that of the round tree for some variation which worked as a nice, easy trick. But it would look livelier with some bushes.

Bushes

You might have looked at the trees just before and thought, ‘That kind of looks like a bush on a stump.’ That’s because the techniques used to make bushes and trees are typically very similar depending on the style of the game. Since we’re using a 16x16 size which is somewhat limited they will likely turn out in roughly the same way.

I started with a circle shape that was modified at the bottom to be a bit flatter. This will hopefully give the impression that the bush is touching the ground and rounds out on the top

I did a similar process in colouring the bush as I did with the tree, however, I used fewer colours as I didn’t have as much room for highlights with the bush. The colours used are actually the same as those in the pine tree.

I then adjusted the outline to give the bush a wilder feel as well as texturing the inside of the bush to create the appearance of leaves.

The bush still felt a little flat, so I added highlights to the top of it to add a greater sense of depth. The highlight was rounded towards its end at the bottom to enforce the rounded nature of the bush. This required me to add another outline tone for highlights which I might apply to other elements of the picture. I was pretty happy with the bush, so I made another for variation and added them into the picture with some shadows.

The picture looked pretty good, but I thought some touch-ups might make it just that little bit better.

Touch-Ups/Conclusion

To touch up the piece I added some more trees for denser looking forest, added the lighter outline colour to the tress and expanded shadows around some of the pine trees. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I think the shadows could use some refinement at the top border of trees. I also think that top border highlights the repeating pine tree trunk which could also be changed to tile better. I do wish my bushes were a bit leafier than shrub-like, however, I think my ability to make leaves on both bushes and trees will improve as I practice. I also think a 32x32 base picture would allow me to make some more defined leaves. The lighting on the pine trees also uses a different technique to the round tree so next time I’ll try to be more consistent with that. Overall though I’m happy and I quite like the outline highlights as they make the image a bit softer.

That concludes week 4 of learning how to make pixel art. Next week I’ll be looking at sand, water and rocks to make a top-down beach scene.

My learning and this blog post wouldn’t have been made possible without these fantastic resources. Go check them out if you wanna learn some stuff about pixel art!

How to Draw Tiled Pixel Art by TipTut

Creating Variation in Pixel Art TutsByKai

Pixel Art 101: Grass by Pixel Pete

How to Make Pixel Grass Tiles by TutsByKai

RPG Grass Background Tiles by HeartBeast

Pixel Art 101: Trees by Pixel Pete

[Let’s Pixel] Tree by HeartBeast

[Let’s Pixel] Spruce Tree by HeartBeast

Pixel Art 101: Bush by Pixel Pete

[foxsstoriesarchive]

|| The Main Muses ||

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Name: Nox Hethaway Age: 25 (May 5th 1995) Immortal - Stopped aging at 21 Nickname: Nox Gender: Female Sexuality: Straight Height: 5ft'4 Race: Demon/Succubus Ethnicity: British Looks: Short, messy raven hair falling into her right eye, Nox had the unique gift of having intense violet eyes that seemed to slightly shift in colour like the shimmering of liquid gold. The raven female mainly wears black, with articles of purple to accent her look. Whether it's a waterfall black cardigan with a purple tank top underneath which tends to be her signature look, or perhaps a purple plaid shirt, it seems that she truly favours darker shades of the spectrum that make up her 'aesthetic'. She might be seen wearing little red accents, due to her little crush for the colour.A purple, four leaf clover necklace hangs from her neck at all times, quite the important keepsake that she made with her own hands, and she has one ear pierced with a silver four leaf clover. Has the looks of a 21 year old. Key Personality Characteristics: Relaxed, Flirty, Sassy, Fiery, Enigmatic, Intuitive, Curious, Clever, Mature, Observant, Playful, Neutral, Thoughtful, Good Natured, Sympathetic, Faithful. About: Nox hadn't had the easiest of youths, and due to that case, in her younger days she was seen as a rather lazy and sassy female whom tended to throw insults at people, as well as ignore much of the population around her. However after certain events when she was eighteen, the female grew up to be a lot more mature and understanding to the situations around her. Perhaps whatever has happened, allowed her to open up to everything around her more? Nox is the type of a person that allows curiosity to get the best of her, yet she can be a delightful person to talk to at times. Having studied photography in University, Nox has a fairly keen eye to detail, seeming to pay attention to those around her more than the usual Joe. She can show a strong interest in things that catch her eye or amuse her, and her favourite past-time is playing her guitar. If you're a good listener and fascinated with life, it is very likely that Nox will take quite the liking in you. Likes/Interests: Night, Purple, Violets, Cats, Moon, Stars, Sky, Sunsets, Fire, Fireplaces, Music, Guitar, Hot Chocolate, Philosophy, Cafes, Streets, Photography, Darkness, Crows, Ravens, Streets, Heights, Cinnamon, Napping. Weaknesses: Cold! Nox can get very ill when in prolonged contact with cold, and any sort of frozen things, whether ice, icecream, or something like snow can cause her to get a fatal fever that can be difficult for her to get better from. Demons are known for their higher body temperatures, so imagine what happens when one goes into a feverish state! Suitable/Preferred partners: Angels, Fallens, Fair Folk, Vampires, Demons, Shapeshifters. Pets: N/A. Aesthetic Blog: https://noxhethaway.tumblr.com/ Faceclaim: (c) Lord Kevins, Josefine Jonsson Bandclaim: The XX Voice claim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCKWly00BHM

Name: Charlavail Harelwood Age: 19 Appearance wise, 1,987-ish in reality. Nickname: Charlie, Charla, Char, Carla Gender: Female Sexuality: Straight Height: 5ft Race: Fallen Angel Ethnicity: British Looks: With her long, beautiful white hair and stormy grey eyes, Charlie can oftentimes be seen in a light blue shirt that's covered in stains of paint due to spending a lot of her time, well- Painting, alongside her white jeans. Sometimes a black cardigan can be covering the shirt, or perhaps she's wearing a hoodie with jeans when not in her usual, 'casual' painting clothes. One of her ears is pierced, and a silver feather earring tends to decorate it. Key Personality Characteristics: Stubborn, Violent, Sassy, Angry, Fierce, Firecracker, Bashful, Demolishing, Irritable, Sullen, Creative, Capable, Colourful, Blunt, Quirky with a sprinkle of sweetness. About: You'd think with age comes maturity, right? Wrong. Charlavail is a spitfire that can surprise most with her vivid personality. She used to be a lot more violent when she was younger, her stubborn streak really affecting how she treated those around her, however over a certain amount of time she began to learn to control her emotions at least to the point where things weren't always flying in the air whenever someone said something she didn't like. She's a pretty touchy girl when it comes to people mentioning her height, and it is rather likely that she will cuss you out if you're not careful, but it's kind of her charm, no? However don't let her fool you, she might be a fierce female but she has her own sweet side, if one gives her the chance to open up to them. Careful though, that's not an easy thing to achieve and it takes quite the mighty patience and steady hand to get to that point with her. It's worth it in the long run, though. Likes: Art, Paint,  Art Supplies, Studios, White Roses, Paint brushes, Feathers, Spring, Winter, Blue, White, Pink Milk, Pastel, Skies, Clouds, Stars, Forget-me-nots, Colours, Paris, Afternoons, Creativity, Dogs.    Suitable/Preferred partners: Angels, Fallens, Demons, Werewolves, Pets: A white cat called Halle. Aesthetic Blog: https://charlavailharelwood.tumblr.com/ Faceclaim: (c) Charlavail Effron Bandclaim: Phoenix Wolfgang Amadeus Voice claim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qePo_r1KXhQ

Name: 'Kassidy' Kassandrea Smith Age: 23 [Immortal] Nickname: Kass Gender: Female Sexuality: Bisexual Height: 5ft'5 Race: Fox Shapeshifter/Goddess Ethnicity: British Looks: A very skater-girl style, Kass loves plaid shirts of all sorts and shades. Her long, dark red hair often covers one of her eyes a little, which have a fantastic and vivid green-y yellow tone to them that makes her stand out from the average 'human'. She has somewhat fair skin, yet not too pale showing that she perhaps spends a bit of time outside. On her left arm one can see two golden bracelets, which have interesting rune-like patterns on them, yet with no possible obvious way of taking them off. Perhaps hidden clips? Key Personality Characteristics: Easy-going, Playful, Witty, Daredevil, Boyish, Wild, Dynamic, Flirtatious, Bold, Smart, Likeable, Humorous, Frivolous, Genuine, Warm, Understanding, Optimistic, Protective, Non-committal. About: Kassidy is the kind of easygoing but extremely flirtatious female whom struggles with commitments. It's not easy for her to truly 'fall' for someone, and is often seen hanging out with different people over the week. She's simply not the type to sleep alone due to 'reasons', which may refer to the nightmares she tends to get at night when alone. She can be seen as a bit of a player, however Kassidy has a good-natured personality and often means no harm. Many people seem to like and gravitate towards her, perhaps because she's a fairly genuine yet playful person. She had a bit of a difficult past per say, but if questioned upon it, she might end up explaining why she's the way she is. Perhaps she'll settle one day, or maybe she won't; that's up to the future to hold. Kass does live a very 'All or nothing, nothing can bother me' sort of a life, however whether she truly feels that way on the inside or not, is up to one to find out by getting to know her more and perhaps spending more time with her than the usual person she hangs out with. Get close to her, and you might make a strong connection that you won't regret, but be prepared for moments of heat as well as seriousness. Kassidy after all, can be a little unpredictable. Likes: Coffe, Coffee Art, Cafes, Steamy Windows, Desserts, Forests, Skateboards, Wildness, Plaid Shirts, Animals, Sex, Music, Indie, Laughter, Good Atmosphere, Hippie, Bohemian, Sleep, Pizza, Red.  Suitable/Preferred partners: Shapeshifters, Deities, Demons, Pets: Maine Coon cat called Nala. Aesthetic Blog: https://kassidysmith.tumblr.com/ Faceclaim: (c) Noukka Signe/ Amber Mccrackin / Littlemewhatever Bandclaim: Of Monsters And Men Voice claim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-Zszn3yQqw

Name: Harper Jane Bryant Age: 23 [Immortal] Nickname: Jay, Harp Gender: Female Sexuality: Demisexual Height: 5ft'4 Race: Witch Ethnicity: Irish Looks: Somewhat tanned skin hinting to spending plenty of time outdoors, Harper has lively auburn hair that matches wonderfully with her hazel eyes. Her style is fairly modest and she tends to stick to long sleeved shirts for one reason or another. As far as seen, she has no piercings and doesn't add too much to her clothing, preferring simple styles. She can however be seen wearing a Tree of Life pendant with a tiny pentacle in the middle of the trunk. Key Personality Characteristics: Calm-seeming from a distance, Delicate, Anxious, Weary, Hostile, Cautious, Nervous, Hard-to-Approach, Pacifistic, Selfless, Subtle, Timid, Dependant, Intelligent, Kind, Sweet, Humble, Peaceful. About: The epitome of gentleness, Harper is a very sweet kind of a girl who cares about flora and fauna incredibly so. She's not really a 'cute' or 'shy' type per say, however she struggles with anxiety enough that some people pin her to be so. As a witch, she feels very in sync with nature around her, however her magic comes at a cost. It causes intense waves of anxiety and depression within the female whenever she uses it, and due to it she takes medication, which in turn weakens the magic within her to something far more manageable. It doesn't help that the female had a rough past that involved abandonment issues in her past due to what she is, which causes communication to be incredibly hard with her unless one is willing to show her that she's safe and that they're trustworthy. She's truly one of the kindest person to be around though, and she has such a deep love for the world around her. She can be rather clingy towards Kassidy, whom she has known for a few years and had been looked after for the time, which the Goddess is rather fond of. Likes: Flora, Fauna, Herbs, Cooking, Kitchen, Gardens, Warmth, Sunshine, Tea, Quiet time, Books, Comfort, Notebooks, Windows, Seasons, Fairytales, Gentleness, Greenhouses, Trees, Crystals, Green, Outdoors.     Suitable/Preferred partners: Witches, Shapeshifters, Humans, Pets: Cats (?) Any temportary animals that she may find and take care of. Aesthetic Blog: https://harperjanebryant.tumblr.com/ Faceclaim: (c) Patrycja Dorynek Bandclaim: Said The Sky - Listen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbUK0XAbaow Voice claim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0--uTxz9ojk

[marksinn]

All Of Us: Leaves

Dot.Line|Shape§

           From the outset, All Of Us has made me think of travelling through forests. Leaves on the ground and on the branches were a huge part of this, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to use them. Having seen examples of cyanotypes, printing and rubbings in the past few months, I knew almost anything was possible, but I didn’t know what would suit my purposes. That was until a discussion with my college tutor, who asked if I’d been utilising any knowledge gained from my previous project. It’s probably to my shame that, despite learning a lot in this last brief (and, in fact, taking a lot of inspiration from the natural world) I had not consciously chosen to use the basic building blocks of design.

           For another concept I had to cut up a plastic tree so I could wrap it’s branches in wool, and I kept the leaves – just in case. I poured these out onto my sketchbook and started playing around with the green half-ovals trying to build some sort of Rorschachian image that would incorporate the delicate lines, combine marvellous shapes and somehow present dots to me. And it did. The straight lines I had cut were able to form a long, thin beam, the curved edges all melded into each other, then layered up beautifully into a vague circle, and all I had to do was rebuild the shapes of leaves in order to complete my triptych of the basics.

Preference

           Something I’ve been struggling with throughout this process is finding something that I like. This is not to say that I haven’t enjoyed researching and creating album art, but learning to include my own opinions more in annotations and research hasn’t been easy for me. Each design has been checked and rechecked by peers, friends and my tutor, but I’m trying as much possible to expand my horizons by taking my own feelings into account. I’m used to being objective, looking at things from the majority’s point of view, and considering what the masses would prefer. So for this concept I have tried to work as an individual, going with ideas and notions that I like.

           After a discussion with my partner about pieces of album artwork that stood out to us, I picked up on the first few examples we spoke about: Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of The Moon, Greenday’s American Idiot and The Spice Girls’ Spice. These three albums have a one-colour background and striking, fairly basic images on them. I thought back to my research on simple album covers, the work of Michael Carney and Charlotte Delarue, and I wanted to make my own.

           I decided to run with a white background, I liked the starkness it provided, allowing any colours on it to stand out. Then came the basic colours I wanted to work with, and I knew I wasn’t going to keep my leaves green. It seemed a little too on the nose, the colour looked really flat when I had photographed the Dot, Line and Shape and nothing about it screamed ALBUM COVER at me. Now that I’m working once again with Photoshop I had the idea of continuing the theme of Basics of Design, and went with the three primary colours. By playing around with the adjustments (and learning a lot about curves, brightness, layers and Smart Objects) I managed to find shades of red, yellow and blue that I liked, and also showed some of the natural design on the surface of the leaves.

Composition

           At college I had a brief conversation about composition. I wouldn’t call myself the most artistic of people, and I’m learning a lot about the way images are put together. Where I would previously place things into an image without second thought, I am now considering other eventualities. Thus I took my three images and started moving them around. After a very brief spell of placing three Lines here, and four Dots there, I decided that I was happy with just one of each image. I spent even less time spinning my objects around. Something about the way the leaves were lying on top of each other made sense with the Line, it felt as though it was travelling upwards in a satisfying manner. The Shape felt more natural pointing upward. The Dot took some turning before I decided that it looked a little too conformative to have the internal edges pointing up, down, left or right, and so I left it at an angle that I was happy with.

           The height of the Line meant that they all looked out of place when sitting side by side, or it seemed that the Line was dividing the Dot and the Shape. I then looked at the various combinations that could be made from these three pictures. I placed the Line on the left hand-side and then the Dot to its right, low down. The only logical place was for the Shape to sit above the Dot. I then broke it down mathematically and looked at all options of this three-part setup. Very annoyingly, nothing new felt right, no matter how I placed them. Some looked like faces, some seemed to be making a point about being underlined or covered over by the red Shape, everything just felt wrong when the Line was standing to the left, and the Shape sat above the Dot on the right.

Colour

           Inspired by the work of my peers I decided to keep experimenting with colour. The adjustment tools on Photoshop have provided the people around me with new avenues to explore and with solutions to problems they had been coming across. I was mostly happy with what I had, truth be told I was set on my album cover and didn’t see any reason to change anything, but I wanted to play around and see what crazy combinations I could come up with – and I wasn’t disappointed. Brightly vibrant neons and dully realistic tones made their way out of my Dot, Line and Shape, and for a different song at a different time I feel these could have opened doors onto great pieces of album art. But I knew I was happy with the colours I had.

           Until I drained them entirely. At first I passed it over, it looked a bit like pencil etchings, which was cool, but wasn’t what I was looking for. But then the Shape leaves in the bottom right image stood out to me – what if you could barely see the images? What if colour wasn’t a factor? No contrast, no printed images in fact. And The Beatles’ White Album came to mind: only so-called because the embossed title of the album (eponymously just The Beatles) was barely visible. What if I did that? I could emboss the leaves onto white card, leaving only the vaguest implication of images on a plain field, and present an album cover that was inspired, showing off everything I had learned about dot, line and shape without any kind of distraction. What if I could do that?

Failure

           I couldn’t do that. But boy, did I try. I watched tutorials of milling machines and building inkless pens to use on linoleum moulds, and I tried to recreate the effects. Without industrial tools, or the materials to build my own pen, I etched a Shape out of linoleum and pushed card into the image using the finest-but-bluntest object I could: a piece of Lego. I tried rubbings, to see if they would give me the correct effect, in the hope I could then edit them in Photoshop. Grey graphite, brown charcoal and white pastels all let me down with this plan.

           I then thought about materials I did have, and started 3D printing a mould for my leaf Shape. After a few failed attempts at manually pushing card into crevices or forcing outlines into the paper, I tried to build a two-piece stamper that would do the embossing for me. I’m no expert at 3D modelling, and have learned that I will need to practice much more before I am able to create a tool that will enable such an intricate design.

Experiment

           My next venture was back into colour. Many of my peers have been bravely experimenting with acrylic paints – mixing them with various substances and pouring them or creating vivid patterns that they then edit in Photoshop in incredible ways. While I’d like to venture into similar areas soon, for this concept I wanted to stick to the basics: three primary colours, a paintbrush, dots, lines and shapes. The red Lines on the Dot gave the impression of a warrior’s facepaint, an idea I will definitely keep in mind for future projects. However, I wasn’t as impressed with the other objects. The yellow dots painted on the leaf Shape worked well when I noticed yellow was the colour chosen on the digital image, but neither the leaves nor the outline looked particularly effective to me. The blue shapes over the Line, similarly, gave me no inspiration when looking at them. Essentially, when it comes to these designs, and to oppose Meatloaf’s well-known opinion, one out of three ain’t bad.

Conclusion

           I’ve learned a lot from working on this concept. Oddly, I think I learned more once I had (mentally) finalised my design. It may have been that having the fallback meant my heart wasn’t really in any of the experiments, but my 20 hour obsession with embossing shapes tells me that it was having a safety net of a complete design that meant I could happily throw ideas around and see if anything stuck. While I’m disappointed that I wasn’t able to apply my learned lessons to this concept, I’m grateful for the opportunities they have provided. And I still look at my final design with pride, so I guess I’ve done something right.

[barfzal]

light my fire

word count: 4,600

warnings: oof lots of smut, public sex (no one catches you no worries) 

requested: yup! 

a/n: hello, sunflowers. sorry this one is so freakin long. this one is for the anon who requested some very romantic loving with my favorite lover boy brock. basically you two get caught up in the moment on a camping trip with his dog, coola (sorry i love dogs and nature, so i couldn’t resist). i was inspired by the songs meet me in the woods by lord huron and light my fire by the doors, and this features a reference to the lyrics in break on through by the doors - “i found an island in your arms; country in your eyes.” as always, all the love and thank you for taking the time to read my stuff. and i always love reading your feedback and comments ⋆ mia

Leafs and twigs crunch under the weight of your feet. The wind whistles through the four hundred foot tall trees of the forest. The air is comfortably warm even as the sun starts to droop in the sky in its leisurely descent into the horizon. Overhead, the quiet jingling of Coola’s collar and tags chiming together with each step blended in seamlessly with the chirping of the birds. Your ears tune into the peaceful scurrying of every beetle and four pawed creature over the fallen pine needles, when Brock’s thick fingers weave between yours. His fingertips close over your knuckles and squeezes your hand lightly, his large palm swallowing your small hand.  “Sun is starting to fall,” he points out while bringing your hand up to his face and pressing a sweet kiss into the back of your hand. Your arms swing back between the two of you and your shoulder rubs against his while you step over exposed tree roots together. “Yeah, I think the tent is only ten minutes from here,” you say with a small smile, acknowledging the affectionate gesture with a kiss to his shoulder. He turns his head to meet yours, and kisses into your forehead while your head is there in his shoulder, and the warmth of a hundred suns spreads over your chest and cheeks. All of his small gestures of romance and love came like second nature to him, and they were silently adored by you. 

Golden white tufts of hair flip out from under the navy blue Minnesota Twins baseball cap secured around your boyfriend’s head. His jaw and upper lip are lined with fine, blonde stubble. His heavy arm holds you securely to his side while the two of you walk hand in hand until you reach the clearing of your campsite. Brock’s black Wrangler is parked next to the khaki green tent that’s spacious enough for ten. Inside the open trunk of the car is a plush dog bed, which Coola eagerly leaps up into. His tongue hangs out as he pants, and his body falls into the cushion, finally relaxing after your long hike. Brock pulls out the brushed steel canister of water from the cooler next to the tent. He pours some of the water into Coola’s bowl which Coola greedily pushes his snout into and laps up. You and Brock smile a bit at his excitement. You sit next to Coola, your legs hanging over the edge of the bumper while your hand runs over the dark fur between his ears. “Easy Coolie,” Brock jokes and you laugh out. Brock takes a swig of water himself some of the water dribbling down his chin. He brushes it away with the back of his hand, and offers you the bottle. You take it and place your lips where his were and take a small sip, the water cooling your throat on the way down. 

As the bottle leaves your lips, Brock pushes his hips between your thighs. His hands sweep up the hair behind your neck, and he folds his knuckles into your hair. He draws your head back, and leads with a kiss into your open mouth. His lips closing into yours, and a surprised yet content moan leaves your lips. Your lips draw apart, and you let out one breath filled laugh. “What was that for?” you ask with an irrepressible grin. Your eyes connect with his, and you look over the narrow, almond shape of his steel blue eyes. “Because I love you,” he says with a calm smile mirroring yours. “And your lips looked really pretty,” he adds under his breath, with his eyes lowering to your lips, still glistening from the water you sipped. Your forehead presses into his while you both let out a harmonious chuckle and you press a kiss into the tip of his nose. He carries his thumb to your cheek and brushes it over your skin before you feel Coola’s wet snout press against his hand and your face, and you feel his quick patterned sniffing against your cheek, and you both let out a big laugh. “Coolie wants a kiss too, baby,” you say while your hands fold back his ears and rub behind them. Brock lowers his lips to Coola’s nose, and give him a quick kiss to his wet nose.

For a while after, you would throw Coola’s tennis ball, and he would go sprinting after it only to come bouncing back to you a few moments later with a drool covered ball. All the while, Brock built a fire for the three of you, and you sipped on hot cocoa from a thermos. The sun starts to dwindle down further, fading into a cranberry colored orb, and the waning crescent moon starts to form through the cloudless, magenta sky. Now you are holding Coola’s head in your lap, his chin resting in your thigh while your fingers scratch the fur behind his ear. Your head is nestled back into the crevice of Brock’s broad chest. His sturdy arm is wrapped around you while his fingers rest over the center of your stomach. The sun tucks behind the mountainous horizon, and the stars seep through a sky shifting to indigo. The sounds of the babbling creek, water washing over stones, Brock’s eased breathing just over your head, and the rhythm of his heart beats in the back of your head. You watch Coola’s blinking grow longer and heavier while an extraordinary sense of contentment floods you in this island of Brock’s arms. 

Glancing up, you can see the definition of his jaw and his stunning bone structures. All of his features illuminated by the orange glow of the kindling fire. The Adam’s apple in his throat shifting while he takes in a deep breath. The air grows crisp with the sun now resting beyond the horizon, and the cool nips at your exposed skin, still in the short sleeved top and athletic shorts from your ten mile hike. Your back shifts, closer into the warmth of Brock’s arms, and his fingers wrap over the cold flesh of your arms. The warmth of his palms travels over your arms. He presses a kiss into your scalp, and you hum out quietly; you kiss into his thick forearm, your lips brushing over the light wash of blonde hair on his arm, in response to his kiss. “Coolie’s falling asleep,” you murmur into the sleeve of his white, lululemon shirt, and he glances down at the big puppy who’s leaning into your lap. Brock lets out a quiet chuckle, his lips curling up slightly while he runs one hand down Coola’s back, making his heavy eyes lift and close again; he adjusts his posture on his bed, moving his face from your lap, and tucking it close to his paws as he curls up for bed. 

Brock’s nails lightly tickle the surface of your arms, his short nails sliding up your arms drawing a little giggle from you. With your hands resting on the outside of his full thighs, that you sat between, you squeeze him. He scoops up your hair, pushing it all over to one side of your shoulder before he places a kiss into the back of your neck, and you sigh quietly but contently. His nose presses into your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo while you trace patterns into his soft thighs. “I love you,” he mumbles out bashfully. Brock was always quiet in nature, so when he said it, it meant more to you than any other ‘I love you’ you would ever receive. You turn your head, your nose pressing into his jaw while you nuzzle into him. “I love you more,” you whisper to him, your lips tracing over his stubble sprinkled jaw as you speak. He turns his face to meet your eyes, his thick fingers tracing strands of your hair behind your ear while your fingers trace over the highest point of his cheek bones. His smile is almost immediately mirrored by your own, and it doesn’t take long for him to connect your lips.

His lips are soft and move gingerly over yours. His tongue is gentle when it parts your lips, and he lets out a quiet whimper into your mouth while you seal the kiss, your lips lightly sucking on his bottom lip before you pull apart. His forehead is resting against yours, and your eyelashes lift at the same time to meet each others. “Now that the kid’s asleep, why don’t mom and dad have some fun?” he suggests, and both of you laugh with one another. Brock playfully presses his thumb into your cheek, squeezing you there. Your hand that is cupping the back of his neck, slides into the layers of silk hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him into another kiss; both of your lips move harmoniously with one another’s. You pull apart just an inch, and your eyes glance down to take in his glistening lips. You slowly gather yourself up to sit up in his lap, his arms falling from their position on your body. You slide off the edge of the Jeep and come to your feet, already kicking off your running shoes. His eyebrows lift slightly at you, and you slip your hand into his oversized palm and lead him into the opening of the tent. 

He stumbles along eagerly into the tent with you while you giggle at his rushed manner, and he kicks off his shoes near yours while a sleeping Coola rests in the open trunk. Once inside, you turn around to face him, your face level with his chest. You slide your fingers along the hem of his shirt, and start to lift it up past his bellybutton. He fervently lifts the fabric over his shoulders, and your hands slide down his bare chest. Your lips press into his chest, and you hear one of his soft moans over your head, making you smile. He leans down, taking your cheeks into his palms and kissing you with a desperate passion. Your hands slide up his warm chest, past his neck, and your fingers rake over his thick, feathery hair. His own hands slide down the center of your back, his fingers tracing down your spine until his hands sink into your ass. He clasps onto you there while pressing his lips into yours, both of you letting out moans from the satisfaction of tasting each other. 

“Wait,” he says in a hushed tone, his breathing more unsteady than before and his hair disheveled from your ambitious hands. You raise your eyebrows curiously, and without answering your concerned expression, he shuffles around the dark tent finding something and muttering a quiet “there we go.” Over a hundred miniature fairy lights illuminate the tent in a yellow glow. The strings are dangling sloppily over the tent, but you could tell it was done with such care. In the center was a blown up air mattress covered in approximately four old comforters and two mixed pattern floral quilts from your apartment. Brock was in charge of the tent set up this morning while you were in charge of the extremely easily constructed hammock outside. You stood there, silently gazing around the tent in wonder with a blank expression on your face until your eyes find Brock. He is stifling a shy smile, and before you could speak he is already stumbling over his words. “I know it’s not done like well or anything, but I just…” he stammers explaining before your lips interrupt him. You press a tender kiss into his lips, and his nerves dissipate while his arms rope around you, and pull you into his body. “Brock it’s amazing,” you breathe out as your lips part. You both melt into another kiss. Brock starts to sink back into the bed, holding the connection between your lips while he leans back. He is pulling you into his lap as he sits into the center of the full sized air mattress scattered with worn-in blankets. Your thighs wrap over his hips and your fingers graze his scalp through a warm kiss. His fingers run grasp at your hips, pulling you in closer to him.  “You’re amazing,” you murmur softly as your lips draw apart, your eyes moving from his lips over the bridge of his nose and to the country of his gray toned blue eyes. “I love you,” he hums quietly before pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I love you,” you murmur back while pressing a kiss into the tip of his nose. 

With that you press your hands into his chest, and he follows your silent instruction to lay back on the bed. Your lips follow a path down his throat, your lips brushing over the tendons in his neck, noting the way his throat moves when he swallows. His jaw hangs lower when his lips part to let out a quiet breathe. He closes his eyes when you kiss down his chest. His skin of his chest soft, and his body is warm and inviting. Your lips trail down the center of his stomach, and you feel the muscles in his abdomen raising and relaxing when you press kisses past his ribcage. You smooth a kiss over the thin trail of hair trailing from his bellybutton to the hem of his black shorts. You start to peel them off slowly, and you notice Brock lift his head to watch you. Your fingers hook under his underwear to strip them off in one swift motion. You watch his growing length slap against his stomach, and your eyes lift to see Brock with his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes. With a sigh of relief, you slide your tongue slowly up the underside of his shaft, and his lips open to take in a deep breathe. He hums as he exhales, and you slide your tongue up his shaft again, teasing him. His cock jumps slightly at the sensation, and he hisses slightly. You wrap your lips around him, taking him in your mouth and you let out a muffled moan around his shaft, and Brock lets out a guttural groan at this. His hips shift slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. You keep your eyes on his as you bob your head up and down. From this angle, you can see the way his stomach flinches, and with your hands on his thighs, you can feel his thighs tense. He opens his mouth to let out a soft moan while lifting his hand to push back a gold strand of hair that fell in front of his eyes. “Just like that, baby,” he encourages you before he groans out. His hips shifting slightly at the pleasure of your mouth around him. You take as much of his thick shaft down, and you watch his jaw clench. His eyes close, and he takes in a sharp breath. “Fuck,” he chokes out, and you feel his fingers rake over your scalp, pulling your hair from your eyes and gripping you there gently. He holds your hair back as your lips slide up and down his fully erect shaft. Your lips pull off of him, and his eyes open. His hand, not occupied with your hair, grips the base of his cock, and he lightly taps your tongue with the head of it, letting out a long groan as he does. Your saliva rolls down him, and as you were about to close your mouth around him again, he grasps you by your cheeks and pulls your face up to his. 

Brock’s full lips urgently reconnect with yours. His moans come from the depths of his throat as he kisses into you sloppily. The saliva that had rolled down your chin smeared on his. His fingers trace over your cheek, as the two of you pull from the kiss that left both of you panting. “I need to taste you,” he murmurs to you while flipping over on top of you. You let out an excited giggle while Brock turns you on to your back, and you’re laying in the ocean of blankets that made the air mattress surprisingly cozy. He lines your jaw with kisses warmer than spring. His breathing against your flesh made your back arch, pressing yourself into him. He muses at your body’s appetite for more of him, and he lifts your shirt off of you. He presses open mouthed kisses along the tops of your breasts before rolling the sports bra off of your chest. His teeth drag across into the plumpest part of your chest and his tongue runs over the mark left behind from his teeth causing you to hiss out. He presses kisses down the center of your stomach that tightens with anticipation. His fingers tug at your athletic shorts, a signal for you to lift your hips. When your hips lift, he presses a kiss into your hip before pulling your shorts off. He rolls them past your ankles and peels your socks off with them. 

His force is strong, all the while still quite gentle with you as he forces your thighs open and apart. Your thighs spreading easily under his palms and he leans in to press a kiss to you through your seamless thong. He presses a kiss into the your pussy before he takes your panties between his teeth. He pulls from you and releases the panties letting them snap back against your heat. You let out a gasp while the blood rushes to your cheeks. “Brock, baby,” you whine out, and he chuckles into your inner thigh. He slides his tongue over your inner thigh and presses a kiss there before he runs his tongue over your slit through the fabric of your underwear. You moan out, twisting your hips desperately. He responds by hooking his strong arm under your thigh, his flexed bicep propping your thigh out while his forearm wraps over your hips. His arm rests there firmly to keep you from wiggling into him or away from him, giving him free rein over your body. Now he nudges your panties over to one side and he presses a firm kiss into your clit while his eyes meet yours. You whimper softly to him: a stifled plea for more. His closed lips form a smirk before he slides the fullness of his tongue over your slit. You gasp out, your fingers slipping through his silk hair. His warm tongue rolls over from your entrance to your clit until, making your breathing is uneven. He hums quietly into you, enjoying his time between your thighs. “You taste so good,” he remarks before sucking your clit into his mouth. His warm lips pulsing around your clit making your toes curl into his defined shoulder blade. All the while his blue eyes held your gaze.

The stubble on his upper lip brushed just over your clit, and the stubble of his jaw grazed your inner thighs just right. He pulls from your pussy with your clit between his lips, sucking on it before snapping away from it. His thick tongue slides over the entirety of your folds before his mouth clamps down on your mound. He lets out a deep groan as he sucks on you. Between the sensations of his tongue and they symphony of his muffled groans and the sound of his wet tongue pleasuring you, you are a withering, moaning mess under his tongue, and it’s something Brock takes pride in. His lips purse, and your eyes follow him carefully, tucking strands of his hair behind his ear as he spits on your slit. His eyes follow the stream of his saliva down to your entrance, and two of his thick fingers slip over your slit, lightly tapping your clit making you wince from the sharp pleasure that accompanied it. “Baby,” you murmur breathlessly. The euphoria making your head grow faint and light. You look down through lidded eyes, and you see Brock’s chin glistening from his delightfully messy service. His tongue runs over his lips before he presses two fingers into you making you moan out helplessly loud. Your fingers knotting into his hair before they slide out to grip the quilt underneath you. Your knuckles turn a shade of white as he curls his fingers towards himself inside of you, finding that spot that makes you forget how to breathe. You whine once he presses into it, and he muses at you. “Is that it, baby?” he spurs you on by wiggling his fingers inside of you, nudging the spot. “Yes,” you manage to sputter out through long moans. He grins and his hand that’s resting on top of your pubic bone slides down and the pad of his large thumb presses down onto your clit, and in controlled circles he rubs over it slowly with a steady pressure. He presses his fingers in and out, the veins in the back of his hand even more prominent as he works you. Your impending orgasm is coming at you faster than you anticipated, and you quietly cry out at the pleasure. The euphoria cracked through your body like lightening, and for a few moments, you could hardly feel anything but the pleasure at all. Your legs quiver from an orgasm that sent waves of satisfaction like an aftershock over you; an orgasm that only Brock could induce. He pulls his wet fingers from you and sucks the remanence of you from his fingers. 

Lifting his head from between your thighs, Brock has a smug grin on his face, and you look at his self satisfied smile and giggle still breathless from his work on you. He pulls himself to his knees in front of you while matching your laugh. You pull yourself up to him, rising to your knees to press a kiss into his lips. He eagerly accepts your lips, and on his lips you can taste yourself. You moan quietly into the kiss before your palm wraps around his shaft and you lightly slide your palm along the length. He moans quietly between your lips and you pull away. You push him onto his back again, one hand resting on his strong chest for leverage while the other guides him inside of you. You sink down slowly until you’re on his lap and the entirety of his thick cock is resting inside of you, stretching you out. “Oh my god,” you manage out through a long moan, and Brock groans hopelessly under you. He melted under the sensation that came from being inside of you, and it makes you all the more confident that he is just as helplessly enthralled by you as you were by him. His rough palms slide over your thighs wrapped around either side of him, and his hands trail up your hips and over your waist. Your hands meet his, and your fingers lace between his. Your hands knit together and you use him for leverage as you start to lift your hips and sink back down onto him. He let out husky moans from deep in his throat as you bounce on him. His eyes periodically closing from the sensation, only to open and run all over your body. His eyes were constantly flickering from where the two of you connected, to your breasts and to the details of your face, silently admiring you while you silently admired him. The muscles in his biceps tensing as he guides your hips, and the tendons in his throat moving as he lets out soft noises of pleasure.

With his hands lifting from yours, he beckons you down to him. He wraps his fingers behind your neck, and pulls you into a tender kiss while you lightly wriggle your hips back and forth for friction. You both let out soft moans into the kiss and you take a breathe from the long moments of physical exertion. “I love you,” he murmurs into your lips while both of you pant against each others lips. “I love you, baby,” you whisper back. Brock’s forceful hands slide down to your hips, and he lifts you from him gently. You lay on to your side, your fingers sliding over his chest until he turns you over again by your hips. Your back presses into his sturdy chest, and he pushes all your hair over to the pillow. His face buries between your shoulder and your neck and he presses warm kisses into the nape of your neck. His large, athletic frame engulfs yours from this position, and you feel him slowly press himself between your thighs. He positions his cock between your legs and slowly sinks in with a low groan just behind your ear. A strand of his blonde hair falls to your cheek and he presses another kiss into your temple. “You feel so good,” he hums between slow thrusts. His hips pressing into you, and in this new position he hit that one spot like before. One of his hands slides over the front of your scalp, holding you gently by the root of your hair, and the other slides over your hip, holding you steady as he pushes into you. His thrusts become stronger and at a fast and steady pace. He fucks into you, and his groans come out strained like rough growls into your neck. His hand slides down between your thighs, and he uses two of his large fingers to rub over the entire surface of your clit, brushing it back and forth to amplify the pleasure of his thrusts. “Oh my god, yes,” you cry out to him. His breathing turns into light whimpers and his thrusts become more careless and sloppy. “I’m gonna cum,” he rasps out to you while pressing his hips faster and deeper to you. 

A couple of thrusts later, and he pushes all of himself in as deeply as he can inside of you. You can feel his thighs tense behind yours, and his abdomen flexes when he releases into you. Your fingers brush over the tensed portion of his forearm that hangs over you, and once his own orgasm slowly descends, you run your fingers over his arm. Your fingers sketch patterns into his arm, and his head hangs into your neck. His breathing is heavy against your ear, and he kisses at your earlobe. “I love you,” he lets out in a calmed voice. All together, the two of you must have burned enough calories to equal a marathon today. You turn over in his arms, and he wraps you up in them. His arms consume your upper body and you press a kiss into his forehead. “I love you more,” you murmur into him with a playful giggle. Both of you are still panting while your heart beats try to come to a rest. His neck is glistening with a dew of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a peach color, and his lips are raw from the kissing and licking. You lift your eyes to his, and he shakes his head sleepily. “I love you the most,” he murmurs into your forehead before kissing you there. His forehead sinks down into yours, and though neither of you usually slept tangled up like that, the exhaustion left you both drifting away, curled up and woven as one. 

[ohorthur]

Of Things That Fall

Arthur x Reader

Summary: Arthur and the reader take a breather after a hunt. Comforting and the blossoming of a new relationship ensue.

This takes place shortly after the gang moves to Horseshoe Overlook.

Word Count: ~2100

A soft breeze rustled the tree leaves above you, allowing speckles of light from the setting sun to poke through the canopy and warm your face. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back on your elbows from where you sat to bask in the patterned beams.

Another sigh was emitted across from you, only it was one of frustration. You opened your eyes to see Arthur through the smoke rising from the fire between you. He was cooking the only food you two were able to catch during today’s little hunting excursion: one single rabbit. Or rather he was absentmindedly poking and prodding at it with his knife as it roasted on its makeshift spit. His hat covered the majority of his face, leaving only his almost childlike pout in your line of sight. It would’ve been endearing if he hadn’t seemed so troubled and upset over the past few weeks.

“Sticking it like that won’t make it cook any faster, Arthur,” you teased to lighten his mood. “Just sit back a bit. Enjoy the sunshine and be thankful we’re out of that goddamn frozen wasteland.”

The big man grumbled inaudibly in response. “You wanna speak up?” you prodded, casually flicking a fallen leaf off your shoulder.

“I said I can sit back once I’ve got enough food for everyone,” he grumbled louder.

“This’ll be enough for the two of us and it ain’t gonna run away. We can continue tomorrow. You can relax. Lord knows you’ve earned it.”

“I ain’t earned a damn thing,” he chuckled bitterly at your kind words. “The Lord would most definitely agree with me,” he added under his breath.

“Bullshit. You do more for this gang than anyone else. Everyone knows it. Hell, even Dutch probably realizes it, but good luck getting him to admit a thing like that.”

He put his knife away and a comfortable quiet washed over the two of you. Thinking the conversation was over you closed your eyes again and took in the delicious smell of cooking meat.

“I should be doing more though,” Arthur broke the silence. You suppressed an exasperated groan.

“Are you really gonna sit here and sulk over an unlucky hunt?” You knew there was more to this, but hopefully you could provoke him to open the floodgates.

“Folks are hungry and worn out from that goddamn snow. They need to eat to get their strength back, especially Hosea. But it ain't just that, it's...” he paused for a second, wringing his hands and shifting his feet across the dirt. “... Nevermind.”

The small spark of excitement that had formed in your chest was quickly extinguished by that word. You were hoping this hunting trip would provide an opportunity for him to open up about what was eating at him. You couldn't let him off that easy after he'd come so close to divulging the worries he kept locked away from the rest of the world to simmer in all alone.

You rose up from your spot and planted yourself next to him, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his. He tensed slightly. “It's okay, Arthur. You can tell me,” you encouraged softly. “I'm probably a better listener than that journal of yours anyways.”

A small huff of a laugh slipped through his chapped lips. Soon he relaxed under the warm weight of having you so close by his side. He looked down at you, his blue-green eyes scanning your features slowly and fondly. “You’re too kind to me.”

You just stroked his forearm to silently urge him on, not being able to help admiring the surprising softness of his exposed skin.

“A while back, Dutch said that he needed me in Blackwater. That I shoulda’ been there. The longer we was stuck up in those mountains, the more I thought about it. And I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault. Maybe if I was there, I coulda’ done something to make the job right. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost so many people at least. I just can’t seem to do right by our folk anymore. Even if I do, it ends up bad for other folk. The decent ones who just wanna live their lives in peace and don’t want nothin’ to do with us or our way of life.”

“Arthur, you can’t go blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong. The only thing you’re in control of is what you do in the face of things that you ain’t got no choice in. It’s impossible to act on the best option every time. Besides, we’re all in this together, so maybe we’re all to blame in a way. You can’t bear the burden alone. The world ain’t as clear cut as you like to make it out to be. It ain’t all your fault and it ain’t all someone else’s. Just like people ain’t all good or all bad.”

He took a moment to think on what you said. You couldn’t quite tell if he was actually comforted by your words or if he was dwelling on them out of consideration for your effort. But at the very least the mood was lifted and a weight, slight though it was, seemed to dissipate from his shoulders. His eyes were fixed on the fire, mesmerized by the swaying licks of flame.

“If I had as good a head on my shoulders as you do when I was your age - ” he began with a wistful grin.

“Oh please, don’t start with that,” you shoved him lightly in protest. “You talk about yourself like you’re an old man or something.”

“Because I am. Lately I ain’t been able to recognize myself when I look in the mirror,” he chuckled bitterly. He may have intended it to sound like a dark joke but the way his gaze broke from the brightness of the fire and began to trace the speckles of dirt, dried blood, and scars on his hands told you how serious he was. Suddenly your proximity seemed to be a source of discomfort for him and he tried to draw himself away from you and deeper into his unwavering shell of self-loathing.

“Stop,” you commanded firmly, surprising even yourself. You didn’t know if it was directed at his words or his sudden desire for distance. Maybe it was both. Regardless, your impulsiveness continued as one of your hands made its way up to the side of his face. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, okay? You’re hurting yourself… And you’re hurting me too.”

The warmth of his skin tempted you to run your thumb over his cheekbone and lean in closer. Almost imperceptibly, he nuzzled into your touch. Neither of you were breathing. All you could focus on was the sparkling blue of his eyes as they darted between yours in what was either panic or wonder.

Oh shit, you were leaning in. Why were you leaning in? His lips were getting closer.

And closer.

Closer.

Cl-

A barrage of leaves twirled between your forms, some even scraping across your face, as they were shaken from the trees by an unanticipated gust of wind. Startled and hyper-aware of your position, heat rushed up to your cheeks. You pulled away, snapping your hand back and nervously running it through your hair. Arthur meanwhile shifted uncomfortably, trying to find something to look at while he cleared his throat. Your mind raced to think of a way to make this not so unbearably awkward. Before you could settle on a solution, the wind picked up again, this time sweeping Arthur’s hat right off his head.

Jolting to your feet, you nearly tripped running after it. Luckily it didn't get too far and your fingers quickly found its familiar worn leather brim within a few yards. You were about to return it back to its loving owner, but an idea came to mind.

“So…” you twirled the hat on your finger. “If you’re as old a man as you claim to be, I bet you wouldn’t be able to catch me and take this back, would you?”

Your challenge was met with an unamused stare. “Are you serious? Now?”

“Why not? I know John ain’t here but I think I’m just as formidable an opponent on my own,” you grinned cheekily. Growing up, you and John frequently entertained yourselves by stealing Arthur’s hat to get a rise out of him. Your younger selves would run around camp and pass it between each other, trying to keep it out of his reach until Arthur caught one of you.

“...Give me my hat.”

“You’ll have to come get it.”

“I ain’t playin’ your games.”

“Suit yourself,” you sang, making your way back over to him with exaggeratedly slow footsteps. “It’d be a real shame if I accidentally dropped this in the fire before I reached you.”

“Fine,” he lunged up quickly. “You asked for it.”

With speed that you did not expect, he began his pursuit, startling you into motion. You darted left and right between trunks and branches, trying your best to stay out of Arthur’s grasp but still within sight of your small camp. Tiny cuts and scrapes were being etched into your skin from the foliage, but adrenaline was coursing through you too fast for you to notice.

Arthur was picking up speed. His fingers grazed your arm, drawing your attention back to him when you should have been looking ahead. You only realized your mistake after you tripped on a root. You braced for impact with the ground, but it never came.

Instead of the unforgiving embrace of the forest floor, you felt Arthur’s strong arms around you and his broad chest at your back. His warm breath fanned against your hair and neck sent goosebumps prickling across your skin. Shit, were you going to black out? It might have been better to fall. At least losing consciousness would’ve been easier to explain.

Before you knew it, he’d turned you around and propped you against a tree with his hands on your shoulders to face him. “You alright? Are you hurt?” he questioned, leaning down slightly to scan your form for injuries. All you could do was stare into his heaving chest and shake your head. His hat was still clutched against your own chest and served as the only barrier between you. One of his hands traveled up to wipe at a thin cut on your chin that you hadn’t noticed.

“I guess we match now,” you gave him a tired smile, finally locking eyes with him. Hopefully he wasn’t blind to your adoration.

“I suppose we do,” he chuckled. His warm breath mixed with your own, making you weak again. Something in his eyes changed that you couldn’t quite place. He gradually pried his hat out of your hands and tossed it aside on the ground. “Suppose I caught you too.”

Taking the final step that was separating you, he slowly eased forward as if drawn by a magnet. His chest was now pressed against yours, trapping you between his body and the tree. The pair of heartbeats caged within intertwined, made frantic first by the chase and now the catch.

This time the closeness was too overwhelming and your eyelids fluttered shut. You were about to hide into the crook of his neck but he held your head in place against the trunk, palms rough yet gentle against your cheeks and fingers tangling in your hair. Next thing you knew, his dry but soft lips brushed a whisper of a kiss against yours as if testing the waters.

You wanted more but he quickly pulled away, expression changing from a hungry daze to something much more bashful. Before he could lose his nerve and start apologizing, your impulsiveness struck again and you pulled him back to you by the collar of his shirt.

This time the pressure was more intense, the warmth and passion greater. All inhibitions seemed to finally melt away from both of you after years of a friendship full of lingering touches and stolen glances. Your whole being was ensnared by the sensation of his lips and his scent of gunpowder, wood, and smoke.

Come to think of it, he smelled a lot like smoke, unusually so. Oh shit...

“Mmm - Arthur,” you tried to alert him through the kisses in a panic. He simply grunted in response. You tried but failed to ignore the way the low rumble reverberated through his body and into yours. Still you pressed on.

“The rabbit is burning,” you managed to blurt out. He didn’t budge. Like a starving man, he resumed latching himself onto you with an insatiable hunger. He mumbled his response against your lips.

“Let it.”

[minaa-munch]

Ferns and Familial Bonds

“Ryusui dono, I hope you’ve been well.”

“I have, dear. And you?”

“The Capitol has been a blessing. In fact--” The words were drowned by a sudden gust of wind that entailed a shower of lilac and magenta from the fuji flowers that swayed from the moss covered branches overhead, along with the tell-tale scent of wild honeysuckle. This particular section of the forest was leafier and perhaps, more flowery than the rest, with splashes of color in the form of apricot blossoms, hydrangea bushes, clumps of morning glory -- maybe even a few curious lavender blossoms peeking from beneath the various bushes peppering the forest floor. 

it was one of the few shared acres between the Akimichi, Nara and Yamanaka clans; located behind their clan monument. Akin to the monument itself, it was grand, it was colorful, it was--

Tan digits barely had time to cover his nose before he sneezed for the third time.

It was going to give him an allergy. Gingerly, he peeked at his now-damp fingers before his features scrunched up in disgust.

"Be careful not to dirty your clothes, little kinmokusei." said a soft, almost musical voice before a floral patterned handkerchief was offered to him; one he gratefully took. He carefully rubbed his tingling nose before folding the cloth neatly, tucking it away in his yukata sleeve. Sniffing miserably, watery blue hues stared at the wrinkly hand that was firmly clamped over his, before flickering to his grandmother's wrinkles. How come the mixture of scents didn’t bother her? 

Talk about unfair. Cue another, disdainful sniff as Ryusui turned to address yet another distant clan member (Minato had lost count) and his eyes flickered to the bit of lilac that was balancing precariously on his nose. He picked it before it could aggravate his poor sinuses any further, the petal held captive between his fingers. It was soft, almost velvety to the touch; it looked pretty too (sinuses-bias aside), and he could see why the Yamanaka preferred the color as the main theme for today.

Apart from flowers that he had no idea how to identify, of course. It was Inoichi’s Genpuku* ceremony, as he was going to officially be crowned as the heir to the Yamanaka clan. It was also to celebrate his admission into Konoha’s Ninja Academy, which was a matter of pride for the Yamanaka likewise. 

The young heir was expected to achieve great things - and Minato had no doubts he would; since he could already perform the shiranshin no jutsu and had amazing chakra control (as amazing as a six year old could figure, since his cousin could walk on trees and that was so cool) and he would probably be a Jonin before anyone knew it. 

He and Shikaku both. Cue a forlorn sigh as curious hues stared at the dirt trodden path the younger members of the clan had taken earlier in an excuse to collect herbs and shrubs; when it had actually been to get away from the boring adult meetings. Minato would have joined them, had it not been for Ryusui’s strong grip on his hand; as if she was afraid he would run away - not to say he hadn’t tried of course. 

She simply happened to be very...overprotective. Cue another useless tug; his umpteenth attempt to loosen his grandmother’s hold on his hand before a voice interrupted his valiant efforts.

“I would like to introduce my children, obaa sama.” Somewhat sullen (he was not pouting), he peeked at the newcomers through his blond fringe, only to find a curious pair of dark hazels staring back at him. A boy who seemed to be around his age and height was observing him from behind a blond girl who had her head bowed respectfully towards the clan elder, her pale blond locks framing the sides of her face in a dainty, almost royal manner.

Were they from the Daimyo’s court? The lady - their mother, judging from the way she spoke about them - wore an elaborate green kimono that had a delicate gold trim. The girl was wearing a similar dress, though hers happened to be a darker shade of green whereas the boy was wearing a formal yukata of a startling, sapphire blue.   

They practically reeked of aristocracy and he couldn’t help but stare. 

“Its rude to stare, you know.” Of course, the universe was out to get him wasn’t it? Minato felt the tips of his ears burn as the girl narrowed her eyes at him in what he perceived to be a glare; easily missing the humorous tilt in her words. Instead, he ducked his head in embarrassment.  

“Summimasen” He was too mortified to notice the amused chuckle that was passed amidst the three females. It wasn’t until a shy tug at his sleeve that he looked up again, to familiar dark hues. 

“Wanna go explore?” The boy spoke in hushed tones as their elders talked. He seemed to be the friendlier of the two; with an easy, infectious smile and red spots on his cheeks. His gaze was welcoming too, and Minato decided he instantly liked him.

Besides, girls were weird. “Hai” Both boys exchanged grins at that, before turning to their respective elders.

“Ne, can we go explore please, hahu-e?”

“Can we, obaa sama?”  

To their credit, both women didn’t immediately succumb to the combined efforts of large, hopeful eyes and pouting lips; even though they were very well tempted to. Instead, they exchanged a look before nodding in agreement - Ryusui’s a tad more reluctant. 

“Only if Tsunade goes with you.”

“Yatta!” Before Minato could react, the boy had grabbed his hand and was now proceeding to drag him towards one of the many, leaf littered forest paths that led away from the clearing. The girl - Tsunade, followed them at a leisurely pace.

---------

“And then...” Cue a suspenseful pause as the two leaned closer, “he blew up!”

“Really?” Minato couldn’t help but ask, blue hues wide and curious as Tsunade nodded, light hazels focused on her fingernails, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Mhm. Luckily I was there, or my teammates would have had their heads blown off.” She remarked, clearly reveling in the unabashed (read: awe inspiring) attention she was getting from the two - more from Minato than Nawaki, since he had heard her stories before but was excited by gory details, just like any other kid his age.

Minato, though? he was enthralled. “You’re so cool, Tsunade ane.” Blue hues practically sparkled in the sunlight, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

“Iie” Tsunade raised her nose, “You need to be a shinobi first, gaki.” She lowered her hand to her lap before raising an brow, “and you’re not even in the academy yet, are you?”

“I’ll be joining this year, after Inoichi ani” The younger blond was relentless as his expression turned more childish, complete with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip, “Please?”

Their exploration had been cut short; both boys were now sitting on the mossy forest floor while Tsunade was perched on a knobbly outgrowth of a root, one leg slung carelessly across the other through the slit of her kimono. She had a makeshift crown of morning glory and apricot blossoms on her head and seemed very much like a forest spirit holding court with her shorter, spirit underlings.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Arigatou, Tsunade ane.”

Nawaki had made crowns for the two of them too; except they consisted solely of dandelions and ferns. “Tsunade ane is a talented chunin” Nawaki nodded in a sagely manner before turning to his new friend, a large smile on his face, “But I’ll leave her in the dust when I become Hokage, ne?” There was a swell of pride in his words, and the rosy spots on his cheek shone with a flush that dusted the bridge of his nose.

Was that even possible? “You’ll be Hokage?” Minato questioned instead, with a curious tilt of his head, “Aren’t you too young to be Hokage?”

“Iie, not like that Mina chan” Nawaki sprung to his feet, clothed chest puffed out, “I’ll train super hard and out rank my sister and be Hokage, just like Hashirama oji!” The declaration was met with silence as he turned fully towards the younger blond, “Everyone and Tsunade ane will acknowledge me and I’ll acknowledge everyone, regardless of their clan because that’s what oji sama did.”

His back was turned so he didn’t notice the fond smile on Tsunade’s face, though Minato certainly did - it was very similar to Ryusui obaa sama’s and he was beginning to see the familial resemblance. “That sounds like a lot of work, Nawaki ani” He replied, his gaze flickering to the elder, just as he deflated a little, “Iie, not like that! I believe in you” Cue a shy, childish grin, “You’ll make a great Hokage, Nawaki ani.”

Nawaki positively beamed and Minato felt happy. He offered a hand to the Namikaze, one which he took, before pulling him to his feet, their footfalls echoing the delightful crunch of fallen leaves that littered the forest.

“My first order as the future Hokage...” Nawaki raised his index finger, solemn “Is to outrun Tsunade ane in a forest sprint.” Cue a wide, mischievous grin before he took off, dragging the younger blond with him as Tsunade hopped off her perch.

“Oi, you can’t just randomly announce a sprint Nawaki!”

“Can’t lecture who you can’t catch ane san!” The Senju didn’t even bother looking back as he laughed. Minato did, though. Blue hues peeked at the now shrinking figure of the forest spirit, a homely smile on her face as she shook her head.

He could have sworn she said something, but they were too far away to tell.

---------

They ran for what felt like hours to his six year self, though it was probably a few minutes. They had to make a couple of detours because Tsunade almost caught them - and like a downright onni, too. She would unexpectedly spring from a random bush, arms raised over her head and leaves stuck in her hair.

For their part, they didn’t scream because one of them happened to be the future Hokage whereas the other would be his first loyal, shinobi (which couldn’t be further from the truth, judging from the shrill, almost girly shrieks that reverberated around the trees after such encounters). No matter how sneaky they tried to be, Tsunade would always manage to jump them somehow. At first Minato thought it was because she was miffed at the un-called for sprint, but judging from the devilish smile on her face every time, he deduced she was having fun at their expense.

If their expense translated to him almost getting a heart attack every time, that is. The blond cast furtive glances as Nawaki jumped behind a fallen tree, one large enough to easily swallow their forms in its massive shadow. 

“Is the coast clear?” 

Cue a short nod, before the Senju pulled him to their new hiding spot. For his part, Nawaki barely looked a little more than ruffled, whereas Minato was having a hard time catching his breath, despite the grin on his face. He hadn’t had this much fun in a while. 

“Wanna see something cool?” Nawaki whispered conspiratorially as they hid from their self proclaimed baby sitter. Minato, ever the curious child, nodded as he tucked his knees under his chin. As quiet as they were trying to be, he had a sneaking suspicion that the older Senju probably knew where they were - her presence was like a tickle on the back of his neck. 

But maybe that was just him, since Nawaki seemed confident that they were alone. He gave the younger a toothy grin before bringing his hand, palm up between them. Dark hues narrowed, and there was a sliver of light green before a few ferns poked their heads out of his skin. 

“Ho--” Minato clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his words. Nawaki shot him another grin before his brows furrowed in concentration. A few beats later, and he had a miniature bush in his hand, complete with twigs, ferns, plant sprouts and fully grown dandelions. His forehead was peppered with sweat at the exertion, but he managed to retain his friendly smile regardless. 

“P-pretty cool, ne?“ He wheezed, “Demo, its not perfect yet but I’ve been practicing.” He sounded proud of himself and Minato didn’t blame him - he had never seen anyone grow stuff out of their hands before. In fact, the only person who had been reputedly able to do that was the legendary Shodai...

They very same Shodai who happened to be Nawaki and Tsunade’s grandfather. Suddenly, his earlier references to ‘Hashirama oji’ made sense and he felt silly for not noticing it sooner. Minato scooted a bit closer, before a tan finger poked at the fern in his hand cautiously. 

It even seemed real! “That’s amazing, Nawaki ani” He whispered, the excited flush on his face underlining his hushed tone, “You’re amazing! Can you teach me how to do that?” 

“I don’t know, Mina chan” Nawaki sounded sheepish, though more uncertain as he scratched his chin in a thoughtful manner, “No one ever taught me and it just...happened...” Trailing off, he noticed the younger’s disheartened expression and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the same infectious smile on his face.

“But if I figure out how, you’ll be the first person I teach, ne?” The foliage in his hand was starting to rapidly age and fall off, leaving the skin of his palm smooth, as if nothing had grown on it in the first place. “You can be my kouhai and I’ll be your senpai and I teach you the jutsu, we can prank Tsunade ane together” 

If anything, Nawaki seemed more excited by the prospect of tricking his older, more qualified sister. There was a playful sparkle in his eye and a laughter in his tone that Minato had trouble resisting. Both boys shared a wide grin and Nawaki held out two fingers for the Namikaze, “Its a promise, ne?”

Maybe this is what it felt like to be acknowledged by someone other than Ryusui obaa sama - or maybe it was because Nawaki was such a friendly person; regardless, it did little to stifle the warm, comfortable feeling that translated to an accentuated flush in his cheeks. 

It was...nice. Also, he was certain he had the best cousins ever. As such, tan digits had no qualms in curling around the elder’s fingers, “hai, Nawaki ani.” 

There was a comfortable silence after that, before the sound of fluttering wings prompted their attention. Curious, Nawaki peeked from over the fallen wood as Minato took to glancing at the back, “I think we lost her” the older of the two whispered, before cautiously walking out of their hiding spot, prompting the younger to follow him. 

True, Minato couldn’t feel the slight tickle at the back of his neck either. Maybe she had given up? Curious, blue hues stared at the flickering sunlight dancing along their forest path, taking care not to crash into the older boy. 

The forest was oddly serene - and pretty. The trees allowed shafts of sunlight to illuminate the grassy floor, each flickering whenever a breeze found itself trapped between their many, many branches. The scent of foliage was rather overwhelming, and he was sure that the two of them would smell like wet soil or rotting wood by the time they returned for the ceremony. 

Speaking of, it was getting rather late, wasn’t it? “I think we might be lost, Nawaki ani.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could check himself - he couldn’t help it though, they had clearly lost track of time and the forest was huge. 

Though what bothered him a little more was the fact that Nawaki didn’t immediately reply. The boy paused, a contemplative expression on his face as he observed their surroundings, “I wouldn’t say lost, Mina chan.” He blinked at him over his shoulder, “The trees...I can’t explain it, but I think they can help us get back.”

But trees don’t talk. If he felt silly for thinking it, he would certainly sound just as bad if he said it out loud. Minato merely blinked back with a curious tilt of his head. A part of him was willing to argue the logic behind Nawaki’s words, but another, more childish part was willing to believe him. 

Nawaki was going to be Hokage, so he couldn’t be wrong, it reasoned, and for some stupid reason he was willing to roll with it. Both of them exchanged nods, before Nawaki raised two fingers in a standard jutsu seal at his chest. Curious, Minato observed him from the side, blue hues widening at the flicker of light green from earlier. 

It couldn’t be a trick of the light a second time...maybe it was what they called chakra? Minato opened his mouth to ask, but then there was that familiar tickle at the back of his neck again--

“Gotcha you little gremlin” Both of them were lifted clean off their feet by the backs of their yukatas, prompting collective, surprised yelps (they were very manly yelps, thank you very much). Minato, for one, took solace in the fact that Nawaki looked just as unsettled as he felt. Blue hues caught dark counterparts before both of them peeked at their captor. 

Tsunade looked bored for someone who was holding two boys at arms length, and at least half a foot in the air too. Their eyes met and she shot the two a bemused grin, “you really thought you could give me, a chunin, the slip?” 

Were girls normally this strong, or was it also because she was a chunin? Minato would probably never know, he was too flabbergasted to comment. 

Luckily, Nawaki did enough flailing and talking for both of them, “We gave you the slip for a while didn’t we?” He crossed his arms with a soft grunt, looking almost comical with the way his form swayed in her grip.  

“Iie, hahu-e came looking for us earlier.” Tsunade replied, “She was angry because we missed the ceremony.” She was smirking, but both of them were too mortified to notice, “I told her it was because you two ran away.”

“What? But ane san!”

“...”

Oh, they were in so much trouble. 

---------

The distant sound of thunder echoed in the small room he dragged his futon next to her larger one. It was raining outside; a light drizzle that played a delightful staccato against the wooden tiles of Yamanaka Ryusui’s homely quarters. During times like these, the elder would usually ask him to sleep in her room, since the rain brought an onslaught of memories she didn’t like. 

Or at least, that’s what she had said. His grandmother barely slept as it was; more often than naught he had caught her staring out of a gap between the thin, rice paper doors with the most forlorn expression on her face. As if she was elsewhere; far away. 

“I’m sorry, my little kinmokusei”  

It worried him at times, since he was scared that she might forget to return one day. Brows furrowed briefly at the thought before he willed it away, instead, choosing to face his grandmother who was staring at him with tears in her eyes. She moved a little closer, her covers pooling around her lap before thin, clothed arms pulled him in for a smothering hug.

And Minato let her. This was part of their nightly ritual and practically routine at this point; she would always hold him close before retiring to bed, chin resting atop his head while long, straw colored locks tickled the sides of his face. He had stopped questioning it, since whenever he did, she would tell him he was too young to understand. Blue hues stared absently at their flickering shadows colored by the lamplight and he briefly wondered whether it was because of today (he and Nawaki had gotten a scolding of a lifetime). 

The hold loosened and he was briefly pulled away to meet her watery gaze, “Promise me you will always be kind.” Frail, trembling digits clasped younger counterparts. Irises the color of the mid-day sky stared at him with a mixture of unmasked sentiments; apprehension, love, expectation--

Fear. It was funny, the six year old thought, how his grandmother could switch from aloof to emotional so effortlessly; Nary a clansman could claim to be privy to how she actually was - since she was so composed in front of everyone else. But when they were alone, he would see her crumble like the foliage he had seen in Nawaki’s palm earlier. Curious hues blinked, before he curled his fingers around her own, a childish smile on his face, “I promise, obaa sama.”

His words prompted a genuine, heartfelt smile on her pinched features. At that point, Minato didn’t care that this promise...this little ritual of theirs was practically routine, and had been since as long as he could remember.  

Her smile was worth his entire world.

Genpuku is the coming of age ceremony which was held for the children of samurai clans. I’ve twisted it around quite a bit, so please don’t use this snippet as a reference for the actual tradition.

Note: I share this headcanon with @senjutsunade​. If you’d like to use it, or incorporate it somehow, please get permission first and link it back here, ne? Thanks in advance!

[high5nerd]

The Halcyon Nightmare

This doesn’t have any relationships, just father and daughter angst/drama. Weird take I did where the narrator speaks to the reader.

Yeah, not doing that again.

That’s what happens when you find the fountain...

Have you ever heard the mythical story of the fountain of youth? Or at least heard of a natural miracle dwelling in the secret corners of the earth with unfathomable gifts that humans cannot even imagine?

You’re not exactly wrong for believing them, even believing that such myths exist. I’ve seen many things in my life. You know that fairly well, don’t you? You always appear whenever I’m alone. You’re in my head, I constantly hear your warm whispers but I can never place your name or who you are to me.

I might as well confront you about this since you’re the only voice that speaks kindly besides the fearlings and the monsters that dwell within the walls of the darkness I reside in. Nightmares make great henchmen, not good friends or listeners.

I never have found this fountain of youth. You know that. Nor would I find that the least bit interesting, I have no need for it. Why would I want something like that when I myself am a spirit with a never ending life? Besides, I don’t want to be young again. Imagining myself as a youngster again does not sit well with me. Pining for something like that seems like a waste of time, and I’ve got all the time in the world. No, instead of finding this legendary fountain, I found this...strange labyrinth leading to a single pool of frozen water.

The labyrinth was quite challenging. I remember getting lost four or five times, always finding myself in a dead end with the walls of the labyrinth surrounded by ivy, clover and scatterings of wolfsbane. It was the near spring, yet it was mildly surprising to see walls of every curvature from north to south covered in freshly green leaves and the ground already sprouting healthy moss and witch grass. Know this: witch grass is always a sign of magic closeby. After the centuries I’ve spent on this planet, this sign is easy to pick up. I absolutely hated the butterflies and moths that flew around inside the walls. It’s as if they never escaped and knew how to fly up and out. They would just fly back and forth, quickly rest below my feet, and just before I might bump or step on them, they’d flutter off like annoying bees around me before hiding once more in the innermost branches and vines of the walls. The many warblings and twitters of field sparrows, bluebirds and robins triggered something within me. I suddenly felt homesick. Homesick to where, you ask? I am not sure, I cannot quite place as to why I felt like that. I had no home, but the closest place I can think to one resembling a home was the earth’s core, under the Isle of Sicily. You know the one, the one with the elaborate cages and ruined marble pillars. Destruction is such a beautiful and flattering display.

No, it wasn’t that. Something told me I was not missing the comfort of the darkness despite the bright sun hurting my eyes from it’s radiant glare or the sound of those chattering birds. For some reason, the sounds, smells of the nearby forest and the forthcoming water source comforted me. I felt closer to something I could not name, and a part of me did not want to leave at all no matter what this feeling was inside me.

I finally escaped the labyrinth into the core of the puzzle, and there sitting in the sunlight was a pond-sized pool, frozen through and glimmering in the sunlight. It confused me greatly at the sight of the frost coating the top with snow at the corners of the circular pool. Why would the pool be frozen over if the rest of the labyrinth was in full bloom? It didn’t make any sense to me. There even were lotus and lily pads on the surface, unfazed by the frigid waters and the choking ice. It slightly angered me that I didn’t understand this type of magic. How could these plants be completely fine in something that could kill them? This was a type of magic I’ve never witnessed before. Someone who cared for the labyrinth sure was powerful, or at least knowledgeable in the art of herbology or plant manipulation.

Something made me reach out and touch the surface of the ice. It didn’t look right to me. It started to look more like frosted glass, not actual wintry ice. The frost looked symmetrical and fraudulent, like a pattern in fabric. I’ve seen frost before. Jack Frost made patterns in his frost making, yes, but they were always at random and never repeated themselves, like how a snowflake should. In the frost I know to be real, there are hidden images of ferns and snowflake patterns, cracks and swirls, stars and ribbons and nighttime sky explosions and trees. In this? They were only swirls.

At the hesitant touch, the ice melted into cool water. Now it looked like actual water, and the lotus flowers glowed white and pale purple against the sunlight. To me, they looked like they grew bigger in size at the release of the iron grip the ice had on it’s leaves. Just seeing the beautiful water swirl and dance around my fingers as I brushed my hand back and forth made me thirsty. The water looked so inviting, seducing me into a dehydration that I never actually had, or at least had felt in a long, long time. I cupped my hands tenderly together, getting enough water into them before lifting my hands to my lips and quickly sipping the water before it slipped through my thin fingers.

I never should have drunk the water.

Immediately something lit on fire inside me, both my mind and my chest. It didn’t hurt; I felt no pain, but a warmth that I wasn’t used to that I almost mistook for pain. Despite the water being so cold and refreshing, what flowed through my blood and made my head swim was not. I felt like I was getting sick. I felt like I needed to lie down lest I faint at being upright for so long. And I did. I fainted, and before I did, my eyes saw the clouds rush to hide the sun from witnessing me discovering a truth that the nightmares have forbidden me to see all this time.

There was a forest, unlike what I strolled through before stumbling upon the labyrinth. It was sparser, with a view of an everlasting, golden meadow full of wildflowers and a manor in the distance with gossamer flags fluttering at the precipice of the roof.

I know those colors... I thought to myself, they’re the flags of the general of the golden army…

I don’t know how I remembered what army I recalled, or how I recalled the flags’ origin or the fact that they relate to a person. It isn’t like that person mattered to me. But I wasn’t there, I was here in the woods. At this point, I had no recollection of drinking the water from the pool, or even fainting at the consumption of it. All I knew was that I was put here to witness something, and that I can’t go back unless I see it.

The forest wasn’t like Earth’s. Granted there was evergreen and the whole earth seemed to be smothered in emerald, but there were hints of silver in every seam of every leaf, and the soil was richer and close to a maroon hue, and the trees towered, tall enough for one tree to create a two story-tall cottage with a possibility for an outhouse or a tool shed. Even the bark shimmered like dew covered it, but was bone dry except for the wet moss growing in the crevices of the bark.

“Emily Jane Pitchiner, where are you?!”

The sudden voice out of nowhere scared the living daylights out of me. Not only was it out of the blue...but it was mine. I recognized my own voice. But I don’t remember speaking at all. Did I say that without noticing I yelled? Who was Emily Jane?

I turned to see myself, searching before myself like a scavenger. I couldn’t help but become afraid. I...I was witnessing something that I never could get without help from another source. Worse yet, this version of me hadn’t yet seen me. I was terrified my presence was going to change the moment that was to happen, or worse, have this version of myself see what a monster he was in another life.

He looked better than I ever could. His hair was the same as mine, as was his posture and his general physical form. But his eyes were gold like the trimmings of his tunic, strong yet warm and fatherly. His skin was browned from constant exposure to sunlight, even burned on the bridge of his protruding nose. I didn’t realize how big my nose was until I saw myself like this. He wore leather battle training boots, with metal buckled straps that hugged the knees of his navy-colored trousers with silver trim, but his tunic was a plain, fairly worn out peasant shirt but with gold at the edge of the sleeves and bottom. I almost didn’t notice his silver wedding band until he stepped further into the sunlight, squinting to find whoever this girl was.

“Emily Jane, your mother is worried sick. You’re not in trouble, I promise,” he resorted, untensing his shoulders and putting his hands on his hips.

Out from the nearby underbrush arose a brown haired girl with paler skin, but her eyes golden nonetheless. Her lips were pulled into a fearful frown, her eyes wide with curiosity as to why this version of me was not mad for her running out of the house. Her dark hair was so long, it brushed almost to the back of her legs, and shone just as brilliantly as dark topaz stones.

The version of me sighed, smiling softly and kneeling down to look her in the eyes, “Always running away to the woods, little flower. You really are like a druid.”

“I don’t want to be a lady. I want to be a druid. Or a fairy.” Emily Jane whimpered, looking down at her bare, dirty feet.

He smirked, a teasing one I’ve never seen myself do out of something that was not for spite or insult, “Not a fairy, I hope. They like to eat bugs and tie knots in little girls’ hair.”

Emily Jane held a strand of her hair tenderly, but defiantly looked up at him, “I’ll be a good fairy! The one that delivers gifts to babies when they laugh for the first time. I don’t like eating bugs, anyway.”

“I remember quite well you once ate fried grasshopper, and you liked it.” he grinned.

She shyly smiled back, “Only if they’re cooked, I guess.”

The version of me laughed, amused at her honesty. I couldn’t help but smile as a response. Something about this laughter I’ve never produced myself made it contagious, it made the air fresher and my mind clear of all worries. I could tell for Emily Jane, it was the same way. She smiled and laughed with him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Was this a memory? Or was it a life I could have had if it weren’t for the nightmares? Perhaps it was both, sometimes magic like this was vague to the most extreme point. All I knew inside and out, and exuded it from my very soul, was that I wanted exactly what I was seeing. I wanted his happy, strong laugh that held no sadness or anger and someone like this child to look at me like a role model. I could never have those two things as the Boogeyman.

“Emily Jane, why did you run out of the house?” the version of me asked carefully, sitting next to her on the carefully cut stump fringed with creamy white mushrooms, “you know that wasn’t right.”

Her shoulders sagged at the knowledge of that, “I...I just hate the etiquette lessons. I hate them. I don’t want to be a lady.”

“I know you don’t, but it’s something every young girl must learn. Even boys have to learn these as well.”

He was very fluent and capable of talking with her. Never has Emily Jane once talked back or looked at him with disapproval or distaste. She merely held the air of a learning child, a child not entirely willing to listen but knowing full well that her actions were unjustified and contained relief that her father was understanding of that.

….Her father….

I...was her father? Me. The Boogeyman. No, not the Boogeyman. Who was this version of me from another life I’ve never seen before?

Kozmotis Pitchiner.

Kozmotis Pitchiner, the General of the Golden Army and Royal Prison Guardian.

“What do boys have to learn?” she asked, snatching me from my thoughts.

“How to dance, just like you. How to eat properly at meals, how to talk to elders and guests and strangers. How to be a good host, the proper rules of games and how to properly ride a horse when in town or in the presence of aristocrats, and learn the many languages of the other planets around us, even our own.”

“Do they know how to sew? Or how to cook and fix things and clean?” Emily Jane huffed, folding her arms and setting her head on her knees.

“They do. I did as well when I was your age.”

Emily Jane looked up, in awe. Her own father went through the same lessons as her? I could just hear her questions in her head, just by how readable her eyes were. It made Kozmotis smile as well as myself.

“Of course I did. Emily, the moment I was born my parents--your grandparents--wanted me to join the army and serve the King and Queen. Not only did I have to learn how to stitch up my own clothes if they got torn, but also stitch up other people if they got badly cut or wounded. If I hadn’t learned how to cook from nothing, I would have starved when I went to the Battle of Orion’s Belt.”

Emily Jane grinned, “Did you eat bugs?”

Kozmotis laughed and tickled her side, her giggling at her joke, “Yes I did, you little flower. I ate worms and crickets and ants the size of fingers. My favorite, if you put hot sauce on them.”

“Ew! Hot sauce?”

Kozmotis threw back his head and laughed, “I love how the condiment is the only part that grosses you out!”

Emily Jane laughed along, scooting closer to hug him around his middle. I could tell the constant joking and casualness relieved her of feeling like she would be punished for running out on her lessons. I suddenly grew sad at the sight. Sad doesn’t even cover the emotion I felt. Heartbroken, empty, lost...I finally yearned to feel my daughter’s hug again. I’ve never felt the need for family love until now, and it pained me, because I never felt it before until now, and I was only feeling the neverending pangs of it that happen once it’s been taken away.

They sat together in silence, just staring at the dancing leaves above them with faint smiles of content. I envied Kozmotis greatly. I wanted to be a general, I wanted to be married and have a daughter, I don’t want to be plagued with nightmares every time I close my eyes and hear the constant threats and hisses of the fearlings if I didn’t do what they wanted me to do. Only in my sleep did I hear that I was controlled, and in my waking life did I freely be who I thought I was, yet wasn’t. The Boogeyman was a form I took unwillingly. In this life, everything I was witnessing was a collection of the greatest choices I’ve ever made, because they produced beautiful beings into my life and produced beautiful memories, memories of victory, love, trust, and strength.

“Little flower, no matter how many times you run out in the middle of a lesson, nothing you do will ever make me angry. Do you understand, baby girl?” Kozmotis gently touched her cheek.

Emily Jane looked up at him with honest yet worried eyes, “Even if I do something awful?”

Kozmotis nodded, “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my little golden flower.”

Her smile was brighter than I’d seen yet. She hugged Kozmotis tighter, and whispered into his side, “And you’ll always be my Papa.”

Suddenly I felt like my entire body fell through the ground, without any warning or even feeling the earth shake. The earth swallowed me whole and spat me out, and I woke up lying on my back, with the halcyon dream as a memory and the radiance of the sun blinding my eyes once more. I leaned up and rubbed my eyes, but felt my whole world shatter before me when I saw the familiar dark brown hair of someone I just saw. She wore a dress formed of complete, fresh green vines and a circle of golden pansies around her hips. Her eyes were exactly like the ones I saw in the flashback, but mixed with the honest light was sorrow, of heartbroken truth and shock that matched mine.

Emily Jane was no girl anymore.

[yourintruderdonny]

Chapter.2. The Griffin with an Unexpected Surprise

The Griffin was unexpectedly beautiful. Unlike one Griffin, this one had a majestic aura. The aura seemed with Bravery, Courage, and Loyalty. Sure a Griffin was SUPPOSED to be full of courage and loyalty, but this one seemed to be....unique..? I can't describe it, it just felt different from an "ordinary" Griffin.

This Griffin was a fierce one, a scar crossing from the top to bottom on it's right eye, beautiful, but dark. Like a midnight rose, black, but it's still a rose. It looked like any ordinary Griffin, it was the feeling it gave was different. "Aight what happened? Just set him down on the leaf pad right dere'" The Griffin said as the Hydra swung its tail to pick me up off it's scaley back to place me on the moist, wet giant leaf. "Aight' keep him busy for like, most of the time...I'll be back man just ask him to ask questions." he then said again stepping through the vines and leaves that lay on the floor.

Hydra just looked at me then back at the path where the Griffin took. "His name is Griffins, literally." she then said, surprising me out of my trance of looking at the other two necklines on her body. "You know it's kinda rude to stare...." I shook my head. "I-Uh Sorry I didn't-" She cut me off "It's alright, long story of how I lost my two heads, actually I never got two heads." I looked at her, confused. "A hydra without it's other two heads...Wait wouldn't two more come back in it's place??" I asked "So you would've had 5 heads by now." Hydra sighed and layed down, resting her head on her right scaley arm and her tailed curled around her body like a snake slithering around her. "Genetic disorder." she huffed, lifting her head up back at the path Griffins took and glared at it. Her green eyes shone through it, kind of giving it a death stare. It all made sense now. Hydra without it's other two heads, a genetic disorder. "The only reason those Raptors ran away was because I tried to act like a REAL Hydra. Without 2 heads, I'm just a dragon." She sighed standing up to walk closer to me and then sat back down. "But you're cooler than a Hydra now." I said, smiling as my eyes squinting to try to lighten the mood. "You may not be a Hydra, but I'm designed to FLY yet I crashed into some fucking rock-or basin or whatever it's called." Hydra snickered, and then smiled, resting her chin on her left arm this time. "Yeah I guess you're right. I'm a Hydra with one head. I was suppose to have 2 others, ended up getting 1 instead." We sat in silence for a few minutes until Griffins came back with some vines and a rock. "Aight' children playtimes over gimme yah wing." He said, tossing the supplies over to Hydra, smacking her tail in the process. "The only child I see here is you, Griffins." She sassed, standing up, tilting her head up high closing her eyes as if she was a queen (Which she's not) walking down an aisle of "Fans" or whatever. "Moecha Putida" Griffins mumbled, eyeing the Hydra as he walked over towards me.

It didn't really take that long for Griffins to fix my wing. Turns out only a few bones were broken so I could fly in no time. The pattern he put the vines in was unspeakably beautiful as the vines formed a star shape around my triangular wing. I smiled. "Right kid you want us to take yah back from where you came from?" My smile faded. My parents don't care that I've been in an accident. They would never care honestly. They wouldn't notice I was gone for their whole lifetime. I shook my head and smiled again. Hydra looked confused and worried while Griffins just sat his ugly ass down scowling at nothing, kind of like a female Velociraptor smile but lift the right side of their lip slightly so it's uneven (Cardi B reference I'm not sorry.) "Right what y'all wanna eat?" Hydra stated, breaking the awkward silence among the forest. Griffins shrugged followed by an "I don't care" after. "Can we go for fish..?" Hydra looked at me then smiled. "Of course! The coast is just South-West of where we are!" Griffins groaned. "Do we havvveeeddd toooo?" he extended the "Affed" and "oo" sound in the sentence. "You said you didn't care what we got." Hydra stated placing me on her back ready to fly. Griffins sighed, defeated in his own game, but came anyways as we all, well Hydra and Griffins I was just a tag along, flew South West towards the coast.

This was a memory I would never forget. We finally landed near the coast as Griffins just dove straight down into the ocean, diving straight back up and posing in the middle of the sky like a Phoenix. Hydra just set me down and watched Griffin get each kill and watched the Protoceratops eat the leaves peacefully. Until the same pitter-patting sound caught their attention. The stomping and cheering became clear of who it was. Tony and his gang. The Protoceratops began to run towards the small forest to the right, but it was too late. Tony and his gang already have chomped their jaws on 3 Protoceratops. Roars and "screams" were heard. "We got to do something!" Hydra said, desperate to save a Proto. "It's already too late! Save them now and they'll bleed to death later!" Griffins hawked adding another giant salmon into our ivy net. Griffins wasn't wrong. He was so truthful, that it hurt. Those Dinos would be dead by the time we saved them. "Lets just grab the net and lets go!"

"Not so fast." We all turned our heads. The sight horrifying. Dead Protoceratops lying on the grassy plains. Once a beautiful place. Now just dead dinosaurs with bright red all over. It looked like hell. I nearly gagged at the sight. "Ay kid don't vomit all over the fish." Griffins said swinging his beak to the other direction away from me. "I believe our Pterodactyl owe us a little favor" His gang snickered, like usual. "I want those fish." Tony said turning his head in the direction of Griffins because his arms were too fucking small to point. "No." I said calmly without thinking. "No, Griffins caught the fish himself. Why would you deserve it?" Tony's face turned into pure anger as he twisted his head at me. "You think this is all some game? Isn't it?" Tony said stepping closer to me. I don't know what the fuck happened to me but I felt powerful like what I felt next to Griffins. Brave, Courageous. So I said it. "No, But I bet your ex girlfriend Rebecca did." Griffins burst out laughing and pointing at Tony, humiliation filling Tony and Hydra just standing there smiling. His Gang creeped up behind him. Tony snapped and shook his head, his teeth showing and shining so brightly I swear he was grinding his teeth at some point. "Watch your mouth kiddo or might as well take your whole head with me." Tony snarled, spit flying everywhere from a 2 feet radius. "Really now? You're literally a fucking miniature version of a Tyrannosaurus Rex and you still don't sound fucking threatening." I shot back. Griffins was now wheezing on the sandy floor, holding onto the fish for dear life. Tony screamed, or wailed. Whichever of the two. As he ran full speed towards me, anger filling his body as his memories flood back in, his feet stomping against the sandy ground leaving dust clouds behind him. I used my wings as a cover to shield me from whatever was about to happen as I closed my eyes.

The light gasp of breathing is when I reopened them.

Tony had a spear stuck right through his chest.

[rovvboat]

Abort Mission - Cable/Nathan Summers x Reader P.2

Part 2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of killing, confessions

A/N: PART 2 is finally done!!! (POSTING AGAIN COS TUMBLR LMAO) w some reconciliation ;))) Leave a request if you’d like for me to do anything on the two metal husbands hehehe! Keep an eye out for more Colossus based fics too cos I am IN the mood for them, angst or not! kekekek ENJOY!!

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Your team had been tipped off about a possible resurrection of an unnamed villain by Black Talon and his followers, which prompted a recon mission led by Cable. Your team heads to the location to put a stop to Talon’s plans, but the tension between you and Cable was driving you nuts - prompting you to put your foot down and do what was best for the team.

 The X-Jet came to a slow stop above the large rain forest; engine whirring loudly as the pilot motioned for the team to make their descent via the thick wire ladder. One by one the team – comprised of you, Wade, Colossus, Ellie, Yukio and Cable – lowered themselves down the ladder. The team separated into smaller groups to cover the two bases effectively, with Cable keeping an eye on the surrounding situations.

You were armed in your protective gear – military-grade green and brown camouflage pants with a dark green long-sleeved shirt - with reinforced fibers built to absorb shock and kinetic energy from long range bullets. You also had on a heavily-padded bullet-proof vest over the shirt.

The whole ensemble was heavier than any normal protective gear you would usually wear – the shirt specifically engineered for you by Cable with his knowledge of future tech.

The first stop for you and Wade was an abandoned military base taken over by followers of Black Talon. X-Force got tipped off by a trusted source that Black Talon was planning on bringing back dead but formerly powerful mutants as zombies; this coincided with the recent increase in reports of grave-robbers. Summed up, all this was no good.

The leaves gave way under you made your way through the trees. A stray ray of light filtered through the high trees, onto one of the corners of the military base – illuminating it in the process.

This would possibly be the worst place put a covert base. No wonder it was abandoned. You thought to yourself with a smile.

The base was of decent stature – two stories high, surrounded by vines and shrubbery in its corners. It was made of a kind of dark grey, matte-looking metal formed into a honey comb-structure. It was nothing like you have ever seen before.

The metal had all but rusted over all the areas that hadn’t been galvanized – namely the holes which housed screws and bolts, as well as the space between the honeycomb pattern – but it looked sturdy. Sturdy enough to hold a ritual probably. Wade suddenly motions for you to switch off your comms device, and you suspiciously oblige.

‘’So, tell me Fingers, what’s up with you and Foxy Grandpa these days?’’ Wade asked, as he walked beside you, absentmindedly plucking at leaves and branches. ‘’I don’t see the playful teasing anymore. Did he have some ‘performance issues’ during your fun little camping trip?’’

‘’I… He didn’t want to pursue anything further.’’ You answered, a little crestfallen.

‘’Woah! You really hit that? Good on you! But forget about him, I’m sure he’s just confused. Older – Sorry – Old men are like that. You’re a catch if I do say so myself.’’ He winked with a head tilt, before activating his earpiece and motioning for you to do the same.

You didn’t know how, but what he said was strangely reassuring. It was rare to see Wade be so… supportive and encouraging. You grinned at him, before getting back to the task at hand.

You looked back towards the building. From your distance you couldn’t tell if it housed any living soul. But you knew better than to assume that there wasn’t. You took your enhanced heat vision goggles and got to work.

‘’One… two… three… four…’’ You breathe in, as you positioned your goggles back on top of your head.

‘’Nine. I see nine heat signatures. What’s the move, Captain?’’ You reported with a quip, as you looked back to Deadpool. ‘’Do you seriously think using a pair of binoculars would work in this situation?’’ You added.

‘’NINE? Is that all you need for a secret sacrifice /slash/ ritual nowadays? And here I was, thinking there would be an equal numbered of virgins,’’ Wade continued as he tossed his binoculars onto the ground, ‘’But then again, maybe we’re providing the virgins. We do have Colossus and Negasonic – ‘’ Wade got cut off by the voice in your comms earpiece.

‘’Hey fuckface, could you shut the fuck up? We have patrol officers coming towards your location. Stay alert. Only attack if spotted. Maintain cover in the forest. Colossus and NTW, I need you to be ready in the case of a shoot-out.  Fuckface and Y/N, go in to investigate. Report in if you see any signs of Black Talon. Remember, try not to provoke them. We only need to destroy that main tower to stop Talon. Anything else is icing on the cake.’’

‘’Roger that.’’ Colossus responded.

‘’I guess someone’s got the case of angry grandpa.’’ Wade remarked, elbowing you. ‘’Alrighty, get on with the creepy mist, magic fingers. It’s go time.’’ He prompted as he waved his hands in a shoo-ing motion. You giggle lightly as you got to work with your powers.

You gently put your hands on the ground, your mind focused on all the water molecules you can feel in the soil surrounding the base. With one quick motion, you pressed your palm down onto the ground – increasing the heat in the ground and causing the moisture to evaporate. The resulting vapour engulfed the area, rendering poor visibility to anyone not expecting an ambush (AKA the dumbasses inside the base).

You and Wade slowly made your way towards the base. You made sure to tread lightly across the leaf litter and reached the corner of the base, crouching down in response to clinking sounds coming from the heavy metal door.

The door swung open haltingly, as if the building itself was an old man trying to maneuver his joints in order to function. Two figures emerged from inside. They had N95 masks on and were carrying submachine guns pointed forwards. They tentatively plod through some thick shrubbery that laid adjacent to the doorway. The person on the left straightened their back and turned to the other to convey that is was probably nothing – as Deadpool launched himself at the unaware vigil, pulling off the N95 mask as he landed a slice to his throat.

The vigil drops to the ground with a thud. The other vigil turned to aim his gun at Deadpool, but just as he raised his finger to the trigger, you snuck behind him and knocked him out cold.

‘’And that’s why we call you magic fingers.’’

‘’That’s only 2 guys, where’s the other 7?’’ You inquired.

As if on cue, you felt something whizz past you, mere inches from your face and impale onto a nearby tree. You quickly see that it was an arrow – shot clean through the bark – and took cover behind the nearest tree trunk.

You twisted your body back towards the base, still hidden from any other attacks, and peeked over the trunk to see where it came from.

Your eyes scaled up to the roof of the base, and through the mist you saw three black figures; their bows held up and taking aim. You look down at the entrance and you notice the mist had started to slowly dissipate, revealing a confident Deadpool standing out in the open; square in their sights.

‘’Well fingers, our cover’s blown.’’ He mentioned, looking back in your direction and then back up to the roof. ‘’I guess It’s time for some real good fun.’’

‘’Wade, there’s –‘’ an agitated Cable voiced through the earpiece before being cut off by Deadpool.

‘’No time, Oldilocks. I’m going for the assholes on the roof.’’

He pulled out both his guns from his holsters and took aim at the figures. He pulled the trigger several times, one bullet straight through the head of one of the roof archers and one through the neck of the other. The third archer had wisely taken cover.

Meanwhile, you were using your goggles to figure out where the last of the vigils would be. Scanning the vicinity, you whispered

‘’Where the fuck are yo– ‘’  

And before you could finish, two arms wrapped themselves around your neck and torso. Tight enough crush you. You struggled, unable to call out to Deadpool for backup.

‘’What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an abomination like that?’’ a gruff voice said to you.

‘’Fuck you.’’ You grunt.

You dug your fingers into the thick armour of the assailant, changing the composition of the fibers using chemicals present in the air. In a split second, the clothing withered away, leaving his skin exposed. You hastily clawed into him, and begun oxidizing the skin it in the process

In other words, you were setting him on fire.

He started screaming.

He promptly released you from his grasp as he stumbled backwards, fervently trying to put out the combustion on his left arm. You swung your body back, trying to catch some momentum, before planting a roundhouse kick to his face.

As you caught your breath, you hear a gunshot coming from the base. You turn around to see Deadpool on the roof, presumably looking for the third archer – who is also now probably dead.

‘’That should be the last of them.’’ You spoke into the comms device.

You suddenly hear some rustling behind you.

Followed by a click.

  ‘’Y/N! TAKE COVER.’’

As you turned to the source of the voice, you felt two arms wrapping around your shoulders, followed by a massive weight moving you away from the oncoming projectile; which had shattered into pieces, inches before your body

Unbeknownst to you, Cable had shot at the rocket before throwing himself at you with his back to the shards of exploding metal.

There was smoke all around you. Cable was still on top of you, and you were bearing the full weight of his body. You used your powers to shift the heavy smoke away from you and towards where the rocket was shot and heard heavy coughs from behind the thicket of the forest.

‘’Kid, don’t move. They’re still there. Cable hissed with a laboured breath. ‘’Wade, I need cover from the roof.’’ He whispered into the comms device.

‘’RETURN TO THE MAIN BASE!’’ A shrill voice ordered, coming from the thicket; followed by a swift retreat marked by the loud, intense rustling of the leaves surrounding the dense growth.

Gunshots reverberated through the trees, and the bullets wisped past the smoke cloud in the direction of the assailants, but they had already vanished.

‘’What the fuck-knuckles was that? Holy shit, was that a fucking mini-missile?’’ Deadpool exclaimed as he emerged from the base. He walked towards where you and Cable had landed.

‘’Holy shit, that looks… so cool! And so painful!’’ Wade commented as Cable staggered up off of you.

‘’I’m fine, Wade, Thanks for asking.’’ You coughed. As you pushed yourself up off the ground, you heard a cackle of static coming from Cable’s body. His face twisted in discomfort as he put a hand to his left metallic shoulder. Heavily he breathed out and straightened himself up, turning around towards the direction where the enemies had run off to.

Which gave you a clear view of his back, and you saw why he had winced in pain.

One of the missile shards – presumably from the explosion – had lodged itself into Cable’s Techno-Organic back. The grey TO metal seemed to throb from the pierced missile fragment.

‘’Woah there, Cable. I’m going to have to take a look at that.’’ You say, concerned at how far into his back the fragment had lodged itself.

Cable turned to you, frowning and just as he was beginning to answer, you heard Colossus’ voice coming in from the earpiece.

‘’We have found the main base, but it seems we have company. Black Talon might have been expecting us. Follow the coordinates of our trackers, and be here quickly.’’

‘’Looks like the party’s just started. Hey, retired winter soldier, what’cha gonna do about that big, fat achey-breaky back?’’ Deadpool quipped.

With a groan, Cable pulled out the missile fragment and dumped it away from him. You watch him, alarmed, and yet… somehow turned on.

‘’Done. Let’s get a move on.’’ Cable said, slinging his gun to the unwounded side of his back, then booking it towards the main base; with you and Deadpool at his heel.

‘’Cable, that doesn’t look so good. Let me take a look at it, I’ll be quick.’’ You said as you caught up to his stride.

‘’Listen darlin’, I don’t think your healing fingers are up for it. It’s a futuristic virus, not regular human flesh or metal.’’ He said dismissively.

You looked away at that. You won’t lie, that did sting a little.

Maybe a lot, coming from Cable.

‘’Besides, I think we have more important things to worry about.’’ He grumbled.

You look up ahead to see the main base – towering over the trees. Made of the same black metal the first base had been comprised of. All three of you could hear the unmistakable sounds of grunts and bullets against chrome plating, and rushed towards it.

Colossus and NTW were head-to-head with 10 assailants, all adorned in matching uniforms.

How cute.

You were particularly agitated at this moment. Not only because of what Cable had implied, but also because you weren’t given an opportunity to use your powers to their fullest, with it being more of a covert mission – but clearly it had now developed into something else.

Time to show them that I’m not just some medic that needs protecting.

 You ran to the nearest tree, hurriedly putting your palms across the trunk. You focused your powers to one point, disintegrating the thick fibers of the tree and fashioning it into a concave shield; shaped like a half-open umbrella.

It was big enough to cover your entire body, and was extremely thick. You grabbed your reinforced shirt, a stripped some of the special fibers from it to enhance the shield – ultimately making it almost bullet proof.

Cable and Deadpool had already made their way to the action before you had, but you were right on their tail. You enhanced the metabolic activity in your body, allowing for you to reach top speed in mere seconds.

‘’Y/N! Don’t do anything stupid!’’ Cable called out.

You went in headfirst into the group of enemies – making a sort of curve around their group before colliding into them from their sides at full speed – whilst Cable and Deadpool shot at them with their guns.

The collision was disorienting enough for you to make your main assault. Peeking over your shield, you quickly wrapped your hand around one of their machine guns, and catalyzed the explosive reaction of the gunpowder inside.

‘’Hasta la vista, fuckers.’’ You said triumphantly as quickly you ducked behind the makeshift shield.

The gun exploded around the enemies, and in the midst of the chaos and panic, your team managed to subdue the rest of the group.

‘’There are two more assholes up in the tower. If I’m right, they’re the ones who need to signal Black Talon if the coast is clear – and since it’s clearly not, I think BT is gonna be a no-show’’ NTW explained.  

There was a moment of silence, as the team contemplated their next move. And in that moment, you heard the static of Cable’s wound as he grimaced.

‘’For fuck’s sake,’’ you walked over to Cable, ‘’sit down. I’m going to heal you.’’ You instructed.

‘’Y/N, listen to me. This is way beyond what you can help wi– ‘’

‘’I’m not hearing any of that crap. I didn’t train with the X-Men to be incompetent. I’ve handled mutants before, and you’re not special. So, I suggest that you sit down, and let me Do. My. Fucking. Job.’’

The following silence was deafening, as the rest of your team stared at you in disbelief.

You maintained intense eye contact with Cable until he yielded – looking away with a disgruntled ‘’Fine.’’

You circled around him as he sat on a fallen tree stump and got to work. Centralising all your powers onto the throbbing mess of metal and static. Some of it had shocked you, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. As you fixated on the metal, you felt a sudden sense of life to it. The wound was throbbing as if it was inflamed – like how a human wound would – but it felt entirely foreign, and very powerful.

You backed away from feeling its life, and focused your energy on enhancing the recovery of the living metal, just enough to buy some time and get back to the mansion before actually operating on it. The recovery process was admittedly taking longer than it usually does on humans, but you relented. The virus wasn’t resisting any of this, but something – or someone else – sure was.

Suddenly, two bodies dropped from the tower – presumably the minions of Black Talon.

‘’That’s the last of them!’’ Deadpool announced. ‘’So, when are we breaking this thing apart?’’

‘’NOT ANYTIME SOON.’’ A deep voice emerged from the forest. All of a sudden, a thunderous noise enveloped the vicinity growing louder and louder, as you watch a horde of zombies charging towards you.

Adrenaline coursed through you, as you hastened the recovery and expertly closed up the wound. ‘’All done.’’ You said to Cable. He rotated his arm 360 degrees and seemed pleased with its mobility. He gave you a nod, before taking his fighting stance towards the horde. You charged at the zombies, as the rest of your team also got to pounding them into the ground.

‘’Wade and Colossus, destroy that tower! This fight is pointless. Once we destroy the tower, we can retreat!’’ Cable yelled into the comms. Colossus grunted an affirmative before getting to work on the tower.

The more you fought the group of zombies, the more they reappeared. Like they were multiplying. This wasn’t going to be sustainable, and you knew you would soon be outnumbered.

‘’I am calling the X-Jet for an emergency extraction. The tower is coming down!’’ Colossus informed through the comms.

‘’TIMBER!’’ Deadpool yelled, hanging off the side of the tower, hopping off just as it went down.

The tower came crashing down onto an area infested with the zombies, which was followed by the loud roar of the incoming X-Jet.

‘’Evacuate now!’’ Colossus rumbled into the earpiece. Everyone rushed up the ladder dispatched by the jet. Everything was happening at once, and you were caught off-guard. Black Talon lunged out of nowhere, and managed to almost knocked the living daylights out of you. You’re stunned as you brought your hands up to your head to reverse the internal damage. Cable fired his repelling rifle at Talon, giving him enough time to pull you into safety. You stumbled back and felt unconsciousness sneaking up on you, but not before you felt one strong arm holding you up.

‘’I’ve got your back too, darlin’’’ He whispered to you, as he hoisted you and himself up onto the ladder – holding you tight to his body. The jet promptly accelerated away from the forest, whilst pulling you and Cable up onto the jet, back to safety.

You recovered quickly in the jet, with the help of your team. Cable had helped stabilize your vitals, enough for you to be able to recover yourself from your head trauma. You gave him a solemn thank you, but didn’t make conversation with anyone throughout the journey back home.

Back at the mansion, Colossus debriefed everyone on the day’s mission and dismissed the team for the night.

As you entered your room, you hear Cable sound out from behind you.

‘’Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?’’

‘’Why? So that you can belittle my powers again?’’

‘’That was not what I intended, Doll.’’ He said, walking into your room and shutting the door behind him.

‘’Then what was the intention Mr. Angry pants?’’

You give yourself a mental facepalm. God you were terrible at sassy nicknames; but only when it came to Cable.

‘’I just didn’t want you to get hurt. This virus is an infection. Who fucking knows what would happen if you got your cells or blood mixed with it? The last thing I want is for someone close to me to get hurt because of me. Why do you think I made you that reinforced shirt?  And no, it’s not because I think you’re weak. You’re pretty damn strong and you have the wits to back you up. But the assholes out there, I’ve seen what they do to people. And the last thing I want was for you to end up in that position. So, no, that was not my intention at all. I only ever wanted to keep you safe.’’ He looked away sheepishly.

You contemplated all this, before giving a resigned sighed. You didn’t want to stay angry at the man, especially not when he was pouring his heart out to you.

‘’It’s okay. Thank you for… having my back.’’ You said sincerely, stretching out a hand for him to shake – a proposition for friendship, since that was what he wanted. He looks at you, and takes a few steps toward you.

‘’What are yo–‘’ and before you could finish, you find your lips locked with Cable. He places his hands on your waist as you moved your hands to hold his face between them – melting into the kiss.

Cable slowly breaks the kiss, and moves into a hug. ‘’I’m sorry if all this is… confusing. I know I said I didn’t want to move forward. But I don’t want to lose you. And I want to keep you close to me. How does that sound?’’ He asked, looking intensely into your eyes.

‘’I’d… like that, Nate. I’d like that very much.’’