#this one was covered in so much skulk at one point that it just evolved to be a hybrid

[cannednoodle]

It was told to stop building and finally start preparing to defeat the ender dragon

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (6)

*We stan open communication, patience, and informed, enthusiastic consent when it comes to acts of sex baby! That being said I have gotten a lot more comfortable and better at writing smut (imho) so compared to smut I have written in the past this is more detailed and thus a lot raunchier sounding than anything you may have read by me before. Just wanted to put that out there before we go diving into this. Also, if I have not somehow made this clear enough already: SMUTTY CHAPTER AHEAD!*

~~~

Felix woke up a little stiff but otherwise happy. You were still asleep next to him. At some point in the night you both had turned over so he was spooning you. You fit into him like a puzzle piece. He really could get used to waking up like this.

You shifted in your sleep your back nestling further against his body. Felix froze as he realized that there was another part of him that had woken up this morning. Of all the days he could wake up with morning wood it had to choose the morning he was sleeping next to you and your ass was pressed right up against him. Okay. No matter. He can just move back so it isn’t touching you.

Felix slid his hips back from you but your body followed when he tried to pull away. He couldn’t push you away either since you were holding his free arm to your chest. Now that he was thinking about it Felix could feel exactly what it was his trapped hand was touching. So it seemed he was in a very awkward position. Your ass pressed against his erect dick and refusing to put space between it and his hand resting over one of your breasts where you kept it held. He really didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment that would come if you were to wake up while you two were like this.

He could just push you away and make a run for it. No. You didn’t deserve to be woken up like that. He started thinking of things to get his erection to go down but it persisted. It really wasn’t helped by the fact that you kept wiggling your butt against it either. If you kept squirming around it was never gonna go away.

“Hmm,” Your voice whined and pressed against him harder. You kept making small little noises as you squirmed and it suddenly dawned on Felix what was happening. You were having a dirty dream and were using the feeling of his erection between your thighs to get yourself off.

Oh this was conflicting.

He could either stay in place and let you ride this out, pun intended, and hope that you didn’t wake up or if you did wake up he could pretend to still be asleep and you could deal with any embarrassment on your own. There was also the chance that he could wake you up and you two could be mature about this situation and laugh it off in mutual embarrassment. Hell, it might even evolve into actual sex if he played his cards right. Then again he could still just run away and you two would never need to speak of this morning ever again.

He needed to make a decision soon because you were only getting more eager in your motions. Your breath was coming harder and he knew you would wake yourself up soon if he didn’t do anything. Damn it. Why did this have to feel so good?

“Hey,” Felix whispered, “Wake up. Time to get up, little girl.”

“Huh?” Your eyes were bleary but open, “Ugh…” You pressed into him again, still not fully awake. “Felix?”

“Right here,” He said, “You need to wake up now. You’re kinda...um...you are kinda rubbing…” Felix couldn’t get the words out. His face felt red hot.

“Rubbing?” You squinted over your shoulder at him. He sighed and glanced down at the lower half of your bodies. You looked down too and with a yelp leapt away from him. “Oh my god! Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay,” Felix mumbled. He grabbed a pillow from the armchair to cover his lap. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You had your face hidden in your hands. Felix took a deep breath. You were so beautiful in the morning. Your bedhead and rumpled pajamas was the softest thing he had ever seen. He really wished he could have enjoyed it longer.

“Did I…” You whispered, your face still pointed away from him, “Did I cause it to be like that?” You pointed lamely to the pillow on his lap.

Felix gulped and clutched the pillow tighter. This line of questioning wasn’t helping to get rid of it.

“No,” Felix said, “Not in the way you’re thinking. It was already like that when I woke up you just kept it like that.”

“Oh god!” You groaned. You grabbed one of the blankets from the floor and pulled it over your head to hide. “This is mortifying.”

“Is it?” Felix said before he could think better of it. “Is it so bad to think that you may desire me the same way I desire you?”

“You what?” One of your eyes peeped out from your blanket cocoon.

“You heard what I said.” Felix took a deep breath. “I like you. I find you attractive. Why does it have to be embarrassing? It’s like you said: it’s just us here. Can we be honest without shame?”

“This is a lot to process first thing in the morning.” You were dodging. Felix didn’t blame you. He was trying to have a conversation you just weren’t ready for. Even though he knew you desired him you just weren’t ready to admit it to him yet. It hurt but he wouldn’t push you.

“It is rather early,” Felix sighed in defeat, “I’m gonna go get a shower.”

~~~

Felix walked past me and went up the stairs to his bedroom. My face was still uncomfortably hot as I replayed the morning’s events back in my mind. I had been having a pleasant dream about Felix. Instead of the hot and heavy dreams I was used to it was softer. Still sexual but it wasn’t dirty. In my dream he was making love to me. Sweet words whispered in my ear as he kissed me. When I woke up I almost didn’t realize I wasn’t dreaming anymore until Felix told me I was rubbing my ass up against him.

I had never felt more embarrassed! It also didn’t help that I was still turned on to the point I couldn’t even look at him lest I crawl back into his lap. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. What must he have been thinking when he woke up to me doing that?

But that wasn’t the entire story, was it? Felix had said he desired me. He wasn’t mortified by the experience like I was. He had been so sweet and honest about the entire situation while I cowered under my blanket. Why am I trying to avoid this? It’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks! He practically told me I’d be more than welcome in his bed and I turned him down. What is wrong with me?!

I need to fix this.

I shot to my feet and ran upstairs. I paced outside of Felix’s room for a few minutes before swallowing back my nerves and going in. Felix wasn’t in the bedroom. I heard the sound of running water and remembered that he said he was gonna get a shower.

This felt eerily familiar.

I lingered in the doorway debating if I should leave and come back in a few minutes when he was finished or stay and wait. As I was trying to think of what to do the water turned off and Felix emerged from the bathroom.

It didn’t seem like he had noticed I was there as he strolled across the room over to his dresser.

Keep my eyes up, do not look down at his naked torso. Everything will be fine.

“Uh Felix?”

“Geez!” Felix jumped. The towel around his hips started to slip and he grabbed at it to keep it from falling. “Damn it woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing skulking in my door?”

“Sorry, I just…” I entered the room and let the door fall shut behind me. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And this couldn’t wait until after I got clothes on?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think that through. I just wanted to say that I didn’t feel right about the way things were left downstairs. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about liking you. Probably because I haven’t ever liked anyone like I like you before. I certainly have never really wanted anyone like I want you and that scares me too. But I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want you to think that I’m pushing you away because I’m ashamed of what I feel. I do find you attractive and I do want more out of this relationship but it’s daunting. I don’t know where I would even start.”

“Darling,” Felix sighed, he cupped my face in his large hands and bent down to kiss me. “We start right here. We start by admitting what we want. We can take it as slow or as fast as you want to. We have more than enough time to explore together. Okay?”

“Okay.” I stood on my toes and pulled him down for another kiss. It was quickly turning heated and Felix pushed me away. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m still only wearing a towel.” He said, “And you are turning into a tent if you get my meaning.”

“Oh…” I blushed. I gazed into his pale slate blue eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

Felix’s eyes went wide. “You can’t just say stuff like that to me.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I might end up taking you up on it.”

“That’s exactly why I said it though.”

“You know what you’re getting yourself into, little girl?”

“I hope so.” I threaded my fingers with his, “And for your information I am not a little girl. Not in height and certainly not in age.”

“Are you sure about that, small fry?” Felix chuckled, “Looking kinda short from up here.”

“This is a perfectly normal height!” I protested, “You’re just freakishly tall! You know what? Forget it. I rescind my offer. Have fun of taking care of that on your own.”

“I’m sorry,” Felix tugged on my hand keeping me close, “I can’t help but tease you. Come back.”

He ran a free hand through my hair. His gaze searching mine. “I want you to. God knows how much I want you to but I don’t want you to do it if it isn’t what you really want. Don’t go thinking you have to jump into the deep end to keep me happy. I’ll still want you regardless.”

“I’m not behaving irrationally, Felix.” I told him, “I want to do this and, y’know, maybe in exchange you can...help me…?”

“Brave girl,” Felix smirked before kissing me again. He was leaning back against the dresser. His hands wandered from my hips up into my hair and down again. I felt something poke against my stomach and tried not to squeak like was my knee jerk reaction.

“Still want to do this?” Felix whispered. His voice was a lot deeper than before. It sent a pleasant tingle down my spine.

“Yes please.”

Felix took a deep breath and nodded. With trembling hands I untucked the towel from his hips and it fell to the floor. I was staring directly into Felix’s chest. I wasn’t sure what to do now that I had him naked. I had many fantasies but trying to re-enact them had me trembling with anticipation and fears of inadequacy.

“Need me to help guide you?” Felix spoke softly.

I nodded dumbly. Felix tilted my chin up to kiss me. His other hand rested over my dominant hand and pressed it to his chest. Slowly he moved it down lower, all the while his mouth was still on mine. I felt wiry hairs touch my hand and I flinched.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Felix whispered against my lips, “You’re alright, darling. Nothing to be scared of here. Just keep your eyes on me.”

I took in a deep breath and relaxed once more. With his hand still over mine he guided it along his cock. Letting me get a feel for what it felt like to touch it. His breathing was calculated and slow, trying to retain a sense of composure as he moved my hand over him and palmed the tip. He hissed through clenched teeth and kissed me again a bit more desperately.

“Are you good to keep going?” He asked.

“Yes.” My own voice felt faraway.

Felix moved my hand back down to the base and wrapped my fingers along the shaft. With his hand still around mine he moved it up and down his cock in sure slow movements. His wrist flicked and twisted slightly as we went. He was breathing hard now and I could tell he was trying not to moan or buck into my hand.

“Felix,” I kissed at his shoulder, “You can enjoy yourself. Don’t be so worried about scaring me off. Let me take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

I bit back a smile as I removed his hand from around mine so it was just me pleasuring him. I watched his face closely seeing what he liked and how to respond. It was so strange seeing this boy who was usually so stoic and rigid release his inhibitions and react how he wanted to in my grasp. I felt a surge of power as I started pumping him faster, the sound of his moans getting louder. Half mumbled words as his hips bucked against my fist. He kept one hand gripped on the lip of the dresser while the other held tightly to me.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his eyes were screwed shut, a small bead of perspiration gathered on his brow, “Fuck, I--” He broke off into wanton moans again.

“It’s alright, Felix. I want you to.” I trailed my lips along his chest, “Please Felix.”

He roared my name and bucked harder into my hand. Warm spurts of milky cum coating my hand in the process.

Felix panted as he rode out the tail end of his orgasm. Our eyes met and he pulled me to him crushing his lips to mine. “So I did a good job?” I chuckled against his lips.

“You were perfect, darling.” He collected his towel from the ground and wiped the cum from my hand. “Sorry about the mess. Looks like I got a bit on your pants too.”

“They needed washed anyway.” I shrugged.

“It’s your turn now.” He said. My eyes widened and he snorted. “Did you forget about that part?”

“A little. Got caught up in the moment with you.” I blushed harder. Felix brought me to him again for a sweet lingering kiss. “But I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” He grinned, “Chuck your pants in my hamper and sit on the bed for me.”

“Okay.” I turned to go.

“Oh, put this in there too while you’re over there.” Felix threw his towel at me. I caught it and tossed it in the bathroom hamper before stripping out of my pajama pants and tossing them in as well. I sat at the edge of Felix’s bed wearing only my panties and a sleep shirt.

Felix had pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt while I was waiting. My whole body was growing more jittery with every step he took towards me. It was a good kind of jittery though. My body thrummed with anticipation.

He sat down next to me. His hands caressed my face and left small kisses along my nose and cheeks. “I guided you, now you need to guide me.” He said, “Show me what to do. What you like.”

“Right,” I shook off my nerves. Shouldn’t be too hard, I just need him to do what I usually do when I’m alone. I can start slow. No need to rush.

I leaned closer and kissed him. As we kissed I moved his hand down to the hem of my shirt and slid it under so he was touching my bare skin. My skin tingled in the wake of his touch. His other hand followed as I encouraged him to touch my breasts. I moaned into his mouth.

“Soft,” Felix murmured, “I knew you’d be soft.”

“And your hands are rough.” I laughed slightly. Felix grimaced and started to withdraw before I pressed him back to me. “It’s okay. I kinda like it.”

I let him go so he could rub and play with my breasts. My shirt was hiked up and I quickly took it off so it was out of the way. He groaned next to me and after a nod from me he started peppering kisses along my chest. He took one of my nipples into his mouth and sucked on it.

The ache between my legs was getting stronger. “Felix,” I took one of his hands and started leading it lower down my body. “I need you to touch me now.”

“With pleasure, darling.” We laid down against the bed. “Show me what to do.”

“First, I like to play with my clit until I feel ready.” His hand slid beneath the band of my panties and I whined when he touched my clit. He rubbed it in sure slow swipes, circling it with care as I moaned next to him.

“You’re really wet,” He said. “Do I make you feel that good, little girl?”

“Yes,” I gasped as he sped up slightly. I clung onto him tighter, my face buried in his shoulder. “Want to make me feel even better?”

“Of course,”

“Slide one finger inside me,” I instructed. Felix listened and I let out a moan that was half yelp.

“Did I hurt you?” Felix asked, concerned.

“No, it’s just um,” I shuddered around him, “Your fingers are longer than mine so you can get deeper than I normally can. It feels really good.”

“Good, now what would like me to do?”

I instructed him on taking me slowly. Curling his finger and letting my cunt stretch before he added another. I was starting to lose coherency as he began pumping his fingers in and out of me. Curling and scissoring my wet, aching cunt until I couldn’t form words anymore. He kissed my neck, whispered words of praise in my ear as my pleasure was driven higher and higher. I risked a glance down and nearly came at the sight of Felix’s hand in between my legs. It was so strange to see something I pictured so clearly in my mind actually happening.

“Felix,” I moaned, grasping onto him like my sanity depended on it. “Feels good...almost--almost--need more!”

“What do you need? Tell me how to please you.”

“Clit. Rub my clit.” I begged.

His other hand went down and started rapidly swiping and circling my clit. I shouted as stars danced before my eyes. I was gonna cum any second now. “Felix! Fuck Felix, I’m gonna--I--”

“Do it,” His voice was dripping with desperation, “Please darling, I want you to cum. I want to know you feel good. Please cum for me darling.”

“Felix!” I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as my orgasm washed over me. My pussy clenching tight over his fingers which were still coaxing me through my orgasm to draw it out as long as possible. I rocked against him, my shouts turning into whimpers as tiny post orgasmic shockwaves rolled through my body.

“I got you,” Felix whispered, “I got you. You were so wonderful for me, darling. I’m glad I could make you feel good.”

“Not just good,” I mumbled happily, “Fucking fantastic is what it felt like.”

“Happy to hear it.” He popped the fingers that had just been in my pussy into his mouth licking the juices off. He licked his lips with a smile. “I knew you would taste good too.”

“I cannot believe you just did that.” I hid my face in his chest, “Why did you do that in front of me?!”

“Because as splendid as this morning has been I have not had anything to eat yet today and I figured I had a good enough snack right here.”

“Felix!” My face felt like it was on fire.

“Stop hiding, if you can’t take it when I lick you off my fingers how are you going to handle when I have my head between your legs drinking it up straight from the source?”

“You what?!” I snapped my head up so fast I hit him in the jaw. “Ow, sorry,”

“Okay, that might have been a little too intense for an after handjob pillow talk. I concede that.” Felix rubbed his jaw, “How about we cool things down for the rest of the day? You go clean yourself up, get a shower, put on something comfy. I’ll go make us something to eat and we can watch whatever movie you want. Sound good?”

I rolled on top of him and kissed him. I didn’t care if I could taste myself on his tongue (It was kinda hot if I was honest with myself). I just wanted to express these deep feelings stirring inside that I couldn’t adequately express. If this wasn’t love then I don’t know what else it could possibly be.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Felix chuckled, “Now can you get off me? As much as I would love to keep you here in my bed for the rest of the day I did promise you food and a movie.”

“If I must,” I rolled off him and collected my shirt from the ground. With a final look at Felix I smiled and scampered out of the room back to my own. I think this has to be the best morning I’ve ever had.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[pjnuzlockes]

EHED: Chapter 2 because I do what I want

Fuck my original updating schedule

It was getting difficult to juggle four pokemon at once. Especially when he still needed to keep them out of danger. The further they pressed into the forest, the more nervous Oscar got. He’d never handled so many battlers before, and he was low on money. Sure, they could go against some bug catchers, but they had Weedles, and Oscar only had two antidotes.

He decided to hold off on catching a Pikachu until he felt his team was in a good spot. The last thing he needed was Charlie seriously injured and the whole team paralyzed. 

He was getting pretty tired of fighting bug catchers, though. There were just so many of them. He could sweep them with Charlie, but the others would lag behind in experience and Charlie might get overtired, which would put them in a dangerous spot if a stronger bug attacked them.

So this time, he sent out Reggie. She was having a bit of trouble adjusting to having a trainer. She’d spent so long fending for herself, even if she wasn’t accustomed to fighting Weedles like her current opponent.

“Watch the stinger, attack from the side,” Oscar advised. 

Reggie bounced to the side only to get tangled up in a surprisingly well timed string shot. She groaned in frustration and tried to land a kick, but missed.

Their opponent seemed pretty pleased with that. “Great job, Stabs! We’ve almost got them right where we want them! Poison sting!” the bug catcher cheered.

“Dodge that! Low kick the same way again, Reggie! Deep breaths, you can do it!”

Reggie glared at Oscar. She jumped to the side and kicked out, her eyes squeezed shut. A miss. She tripped, fell, and growled in frustration.

“It’s okay!” Oscar said. “Shake it off! Again!” 

“Poison sting!” called the bug catcher.

“The side! Isn’t! Working!” Reggie shouted. She kicked the exact same moment the Weedle used poison sting. Her foot connected directly with the Weedle’s stinger. Searing pain flooded her senses, so much worse than any other poison sting she’d taken. She screeched and kicked again, defeating her opponent.

“Crap! Reggie!” Oscar ran to her, digging in his bag. 

She screwed up her face and groaned. Poisoning. “‘m gonna puke.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got an antidote here. It’s alright.” He flicked the cap off the antidote and injected it. “See? Totally fine.”

“Sorry I poisoned your Mankey,” the bug catcher mumbled. He handed the money to a scowling Finley. He scooped up his several defeated pokemon and skulked off, ignoring Oscar’s protests that it was really okay, Reggie was fine.

“Well.” Oscar helped her sit up. “That’s why I said to kick from the side.” His voice was soft and he stroked her behind her ears soothingly.

Reggie crossed her arms and pouted, but leaned into it. Something shimmery in the bushes caught her attention, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She looked around closer. There it was again! Something yellow! “Pikachu!” 

“What?! Where?!” Oscar pulled a pokeball out. They’d barely encountered any wild pokemon today, and even then it was mostly Kakunas and Metapods glaring at them from the trees. But, when he ran over to where Reggie was pointing, nothing was there. “It’s gooooOOOH THERE IT IS!”

About twenty feet back was a rather startled Pikachu with a heart shaped tail. With zero hesitation, Oscar threw the pokeball and beaned her in the head.

The Pikachu burst out, ran past Oscar, and tackled Reggie. She pinned her down. “You blew my cover!! I was chasing something cool! And then your trainer hit me!”

“Sucks to suck,” Reggie said.

The Pikachu raised a fist and Oscar jumped in before a fight could break out. “Sorry for hitting you in the head. I’ll help you find the cool thing. Then you can go, unless you wanna join my team,” he said quickly. 

Finley gave the victory prize over to Oscar while smiling in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “We could really use someone as tough as you on the team. You totally flattened Reggie, and that’s hard to do.”

The Pikachu glared at Oscar, then at Finley, then finally down at Reggie. She looked back at Oscar. “Fine. You better evolve me the first chance you get, though.”

Oscar tried not to jump up and down. “Yeah, absolutely!” He almost tapped her with a pokeball, but she stopped him.

“Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

That was good enough for her.

---

They’d been looking for the cool thing for over an hour. Something sparkly and yellow, but moved. So, they weren’t looking for coins and it was supposedly too small to be a pokemon.

Finley had been searching the brush for a little while with no sign of anything sparkly and yellow. Nothing but plants. He wasn’t being particularly careful as he wandered around, so he probably had spooked away anyone who could join the search. 

He was getting too far away from the team. He didn’t like to leave Oscar alone for very long. As capable as Oscar was, the forest was filled with Weedles, which Oscar didn’t mix well with. He gave up.

Someone sniffled. Finley froze. Then came a hiccup.

“Hello?” he called gently. “Is everything okay?” He pushed his head into the shrub.

There, tangled in the brambles, was a golden Caterpie. 

“Hey! Hey, are you stuck?!” 

“Yes!! Please, help! I can’t move!” the Caterpie cried.

“Shoot, hang on! My friend can help, I’m gonna get him, I’ll be right back!” Finley ran. Thorns tugged at his skin, but he didn’t care. A shiny pokemon absolutely could not be trapped. They were already at a severe disadvantage not having the same camouflage their standard colored peers did. If they didn’t get that Caterpie out of there, someone else would.

Finley shouted for Oscar up ahead.

The urgency in Finley’s voice sent Oscar running.

They wouldn’t be able to pull her out. And Oscar only had one pokeball left.

This had better work.

Oscar’s sudden appearance startled the Caterpie and he had to stop her from wriggling around. “Hey! Hey, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you! I’m gonna catch you, alright? You don’t have to stick around. I just gotta get you out of there,” Oscar said. He reached into the brambles to tap her with the ball and flinched when thorns cut him. He sure hoped their scratches wouldn’t get infected.

Once she was freed, Oscar brought her back to the clearing where the others waited.

“I think we found your cool thing, Sparky,” Oscar said to the Pikachu. He released the Caterpie into his arms and looked over her. “Jeez, kiddo. Those look like they hurt.” 

She was covered in cuts and scrapes. They only had one potion left, but they gave it to her anyway.

Charlie flew over and landed on Oscar’s shoulder. “What happened, little one?” he asked tenderly. She shrank away from him.

“Something was chasing me,” she said.

Sparky grimaced.

“Hey,” Oscar said. “You can come with us if you’d like. You can join our team. We’ll protect you.” She was an exemption to the ‘Use One’ rule since she was shiny. They were considered At Risk and were a part of the research the lab had been doing anyway.

“I guess it’s better than getting stuck again…” the little bug said.

“I’m Charlie. I promise, we’re not gonna let anything happen to you. What’s your name?”

“Dust.”

Charlie’s eyes softened. “Welcome to the team, Dust. We’re happy to have you.”

[prairiesongserial]

Windfield Pass 4

Agnes more or less caught Owl as she tugged her into the river, though the rope was lost to the current.  Immediately she clapped a hand over Owl’s mouth and sunk low with her so only their noses were above the water.  On the bank above them, the dogs barked wildly, jumping over each other.  The human members of the party soon caught up with them, swearing.

“Well, it sure wasn’t Sprinters we were tailing.  Probably crossed the trail of one a’ them Llorona types.”

“There’s always Weepers where there’s water,” another said sagely.  “I don’t like it - let’s turn back, see if we can pick up the Sprinters again.”

“Shoulda just gone to Harehaven,” a third grumbled.  “Muties just sittin’ there.”

“They ain’t feral,” said the first hunter.  “Windfield sheriff doesn’t pay for ‘em.  Come on.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said a new voice.  “We’ve lost the Sprinters for good.  There’s no catching up once they’re gone.  We know for sure now that we’ve got a Weeper dead to rights, at least one.  They come at a better rate.  Let’s just - “

“We could spend all day skulking around the river and never find her!” another argued.

Agnes squeezed her eyes closed.  The frigid water was getting to her.  And Owl wouldn’t be able to bear it much longer.  She had gone limp from the shock of the water.  Now was their chance, while the hunters were arguing.  The yap of the dogs, the raised voices - it was like to be the only cover they got.

Agnes clutched Owl tightly, took a deep breath, and pushed off from the bank, letting the current take them.  Her green and brown clothes and Owl’s yellow and gray would not attract much attention as long as they let the river move them.  Owl sputtered as her face dipped under for a second, coughing and crying.

Agnes’s heart hammered.  The roar of the river made it impossible to hear, as they floated away, whether or not the hunters had spotted them.  They would just have to trust.

Half a mile downstream, Agnes began to relax.  No one had jumped in the water after them.  If the hunters were following, they were far enough behind that she and Owl were in no immediate danger.

Agnes dragged Owl and herself to the south shore.  She had lost her cane and her pack - she had tried to relieve Owl of hers as well, but couldn’t get the straps free without Owl’s cooperation.  Perhaps it was for the best.  The child hadn’t drowned, and now she would have food for the journey.

The autumn air stung with every gust of wind, as painful as a slap on their soaking wet bodies.  Owl began to cry in earnest.

“I’m cold,” she whined.  Then, when nothing was done about this, again, louder.

Agnes softened.  This journey of half a day had been one of the hardest in recent memory, and all the more so for a child.

“You’re safe,” Agnes said, wiping a line of snot from under Owl’s nose.  “Hear that?  Safe as a penny in a pocket.”

Owl looked at her like she was crazy.

“You may sing now if you like,” said Agnes.  She groaned and pulled one leg toward herself so she could empty the water out of her boot.  All manner of silt and stones poured out into the river.

That startled a laugh out of Owl, though the whine was not far behind.

“Well, would you look at that,” said Agnes.  She pulled off the other boot, and this time Owl watched in anticipation as Agnes poured it out.  She giggled as Agnes exaggerated the action of shaking the mud out.

“How are your shoes?  Full of mud?”

“I don’t know,” said Owl.  “I think so.”

“Are there any turtles?  You had better check.”

Owl shrieked, though it was a playful sound.  She scrambled out of her shoes, fur slippers that reached the ankle, not proper boots.  The fur lining was a fright to look at.

“Go ahead, shake them out,” Agnes said brusquely.

Owl did so, and seemed to quite enjoy it.  She shook her shoes violently, screaming and flinging mud everywhere.  Well, enjoy may have been a strong word.  Agnes scrambled a few feet away.  Oh, moving was a nightmare.  She needed the cane more than ever, but it was lost.  What she really needed was a week in bed.

“Owl,” Agnes called.  Owl was still preoccupied with beating imaginary turtles out of her shoes.  “Owl, Owl, come here for a minute.”

Owl threw her shoes on the ground, and, satisfied that they had learned their lesson, meandered to Agnes.  Agnes straightened the pointed wool hat on her head.  

“Do you see that tree, there?”  The prairie grass was shorter on this side of the river, only knee high, and speckled with other plants, mostly thorny shrubs, but some short trees spaced well apart.  They appeared to be fruit trees, likely planted by a settlement long forgotten.  Agnes pointed to the closest one, which was still a good fifty feet ahead.

“Will you help me walk there?  Let me use your shoulder?”

Owl looked puzzled.

“My legs aren’t as young as yours.”

“Why?”

“Too many long journeys.  Help me to that tree.  I need to make a walking stick.”

Owl finally complied, but hurried Agnes along at too eager a pace, and was not much of a support at all.  Yet being rushed along by a child gave Agnes a momentary strength she might not have been able to summon on her own.  Owl exerted the will for them both.

Agnes leaned heavily against the crab apple tree.  Without her pack, she was next to helpless.  No knife, let alone the hatchet she would need to pry a branch free.

“Owl, let me see what your parents packed you,” Agnes said.

Owl dumped out her pack at Agnes’s feet.  Children’s clothes, soggy bread, a small canteen, and an undamaged parcel of strong cheese, probably made with goat’s milk.  And the stuffed rabbit.

“The rabbit comes along, but no hatchet,” Agnes muttered.  Owl’s parents hadn’t packed her so much as a pen knife, or goggles for the tall grass.

While Agnes had been going through Owl’s possessions, Owl herself had discovered the joy of crab apples.  She had climbed the tree and shimmied out onto one of the branches, straining for one of the few fruits remaining so late in the season.  Agnes watched, her full attention drawn to the child dangling six feet in the air.  The hardened traveler in her almost wished the branch would break; Owl would be mostly unharmed, perhaps a little bruised, which was not too high a price for a new walking stick and a lesson learned.  Yet Agnes could not tear herself away - her attention was transfixed, fully, in fear that Owl might fall.

In any other situation, Agnes would have seen or heard the body rising from the river.  But instead, she had no sense of any creature beyond the world of the crab apple tree.  There was only an old woman worrying over a little girl.

Until, of course, a fat woman with a curly brown braid climbed out of the river just behind them, wearing next to nothing, and soaked to the skin.

Agnes pressed her back to the tree, Owl safe, for the moment, up in the branches.  The woman had a pleasant, cherubic face, curled up in a smile of greeting.  Her hands and feet were black with mud.  Her lower half was clothed only in thin linen pants, clinging transparently to thick, strong legs.  Her top half was clothed in nothing at all.

Agnes’s attention was soon called to the woman’s face.  Gills flapped in her neck, testing the cold air.  And when the woman noticed Owl, she revealed curved, pointed teeth as vicious as a seal’s.

A Weeper - or Llorona, River Troll, whatever you liked to call them.  Incredibly dangerous, especially to children, which was why hunters could get such a good rate for them.  Everyone, mutie and human alike, relied on the same few uncontaminated water sources.  Muties adapted to the water posed more of a threat in daily life than any other kind.

The three of them stayed frozen for a long minute, surveying each other.  The Weeper didn’t look hungry.  She had put on fat for the winter.  More likely, she had heard the commotion with the hunting dogs and had fled the water for the south shore, same as Agnes and Owl had.

Finally, Agnes’s knee gave.  The sharp pain was almost a relief compared to the tension of the previous moment.  Agnes collapsed against the tree, swearing, trying to at least keep herself somewhat upright.  All she had to use was her body, and she would be damned if she didn’t wedge herself in between Owl and the Weeper.

Owl started to climb down.

Agnes shouted, “No, no, go back up, climb higher.  She doesn’t want me.”

The Weeper stepped closer.  She was easily six feet tall.  Her head was just about even with Owl, perched as she was in the tree.

“Higher, higher,” Agnes hissed.

Owl did not move, however.  She was apparently as captivated by the half-naked mutie as the mutie was by her.  The mutie’s irises were opal-white, almost like fish eyes.  And soon they turned their curious gaze on Agnes.

Agnes stared back.

Then the Weeper smiled - radiantly.  It was a rapturous, toothy smile that meant, if Agnes had to guess, that the Weeper had found her next meal, and was very much looking forward to tearing Agnes’s throat out with her teeth.  But as the seconds passed and Agnes continued to be alive, her perception of the Weeper evolved beyond instinct and fear.

“I...do I know you?” Agnes asked.

It couldn’t be the same Weeper.  The last time Agnes had been down this way had been twenty years ago.  This Weeper looked much too young to be the same - but, then again, who knew the peculiarities of mutants?  Did a fish show its age with the same signs as a human?

The Weeper nodded, an exaggerated movement that showed a lack of fluency.

“I met you here, years ago,” said Agnes.  Her tone turned accusatory.  “You were going to eat me, except I could still use a gun, back then.  Shameful.”

The Weeper’s expression turned uncertain, the joy somewhat depleted.

“My...I had almost forgotten all about that.  You acted very differently, then, or I would have recognized you at once.  You were very scary, wailing like that.  Have you grown tired of living up to the name Weeper?”  Slowly, Agnes sank down to the roots of the crab apple tree.  Mutie or no, she couldn’t stand anymore.  If they were to be eaten, so be it.

The Weeper shook her head.  She bared her throat and tapped the flesh there for Agnes to see.

Old scar tissue, silver like a fish’s scales, decorated the Weeper’s neck down to the chest.  One could only imagine the grisly fight that had led to that wound.  Hunters, other muties, a fight with an animal...

“You lost your voice?  Well, that explains why you’ve lived this long.  You know, your sort is very scary, but you lose on stealth.”

The Weeper glared at her.  Fine, she could sulk if she wanted to.

“Look, as long as you aren’t going to eat us, you had better leave.  There are hunters on the other side of the river, and they may have forded by now.  Either way, they are skulking around.”

Agnes wasn’t sure how much the Weeper had understood.  No one, not to Agnes’s knowledge at least, had ever sat down and had a conversation with a mutie.  The same way no one had sat down and had a conversation with a brown bear.  Although the different types of muties did bear a similarity to human people, at least in aesthetic. It made Agnes wonder, sometimes, if the campfire story of the dangerous, feral mutie wasn’t just that.  A story.  Had anyone ever talked to them and lived?  Had anyone tried?  

Of course, Agnes didn’t have any choice but to try.  No gun, not even a knife, and her strength used up - she was stuck talking her way out.

The Weeper looked concerned.  Perhaps she had understood.  But then she sat down across from Agnes and scooted close, so close Agnes could hear her breathing over the rush of the river.  So close Agnes could smell the fish on her breath.  She winced, but didn’t turn away.

“Hunters, you dear silly thing,” Agnes repeated, gently.  “Hunters.”

Agnes mimed firing a shotgun, and the Weeper scrambled back, hissing.  Agnes rolled her eyes.

“Not me.  I’m saying you should leave.”  She pointed at the Weeper, then pointed to the river bank.

And to Agnes’s surprise, it worked.  The Weeper slid down the bank, back into the water.

“Well, that was something,” Agnes said.  She tried to get to her feet, but found herself stuck.  The pain was too much, and she couldn’t stand without help.  And without a cane, she wouldn’t have remained standing long, anyway.  “How are you doing up there, Owl?  I can’t see you.”

“I’m fine,” Owl called down.  “Was that a monster?”

Agnes huffed, and leaned back against the crab apple tree.  “I don’t know.  How about that?”

Windfield Pass 3 || Windfield Pass 5 

[aion-rsa]

The 100 Season 7 Episode 16: The Last War

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This THE 100 review contains spoilers

The 100 Season 7 Episode 16

Ultimately, The 100 turned in a series finale that’s better than the back half of its final season, but not by a whole lot. The use of two fan-favorite characters (Lexa and Abby), and a last-minute twist, are responsible for much of the emotionally satisfying material. So much of the rest, including the saber-rattling and Sheidheda skulking around, feel like a waste of precious time, plot missteps from earlier in the season that long overstayed their welcome.

The most successful moments were based in the characters we’ve invested in for so long. Octavia’s jaded takes on war, culminating in her speech. Raven holding it down for absolutely everyone. Murphy and Emori grieving what they thought were one another’s deaths. Miller and Jackson’s reunion and dancing juxtaposed with Emori and Murphy’s dire goodbye was a beautiful way to let us say goodbye to those characters, because even if everybody lives, we’re still saying goodbye.

This episode spends quite a bit of time on the concept of judging Clarke’s actions as a proxy for all of humanity. While that has always come with the territory of the show, it feels like an extremely reductive way of viewing seven seasons with a strong ensemble cast and far more robust storytelling, yet it’s the one the finale imposes upon us. Clarke was right about one thing: getting Raven back in the mix should have been Plan A, not cleanup.

It’s far too easy to judge an entire show based on whether you like the main character, even moreso when that character is a woman or girl. It feels odd for The 100, the same show that quietly gave us so many accomplished women and girls as leaders, to spend so many of its final minutes on this. Even with Raven and Octavia course-correcting, the series finale of the show still comes down to a question of Clarke’s choices, and whether we think they’re justified or not. Surely after all this time, The 100 could have aimed higher than that?

Up until the reveal that Clarke’s friends returned to Earth for her, the episode has almost no emotional heft outside of Emori’s fate. Seeing Indra vanquish Sheidheda for her mother was nice, but long overdue considering we’d watched her fail to pull the trigger so many times before. Raven’s pleading on behalf of humanity had more punch because it was with Abby, but it came so late in the episode and was so brief.. 

One of the more promising opportunities was Clarke’s conversation with her judge. While it’s not actually a long-awaited reunion with Lexa, it’s recognition that Lexa was Clarke’s greatest love, and perhaps her greatest teacher. I appreciate that the higher being pushed Clarke to justify some of her choices, though she mostly let Clarke slide on her intent to murder her own child.

Continuing this season’s theme, there were a few beats we never got to unpack because The 100 preferred to go for surprise (also a problem during season 5, which has more similarities than I’d like to this final season.) Octavia stopping the war was something only she could do, but rather than seeing the faith and growth it took for Blodreina to lay down her arms, the moment was clipped. Clarke killing Cadogan was a badass moment, but shooting him at that point in his test meant we never got to see what it looked like when he had to respond to the higher consciousness, who was in the process of grilling him about giving up love when Clarke takes him down. Similarly, we learned the mystery of what Becca saw, that she was asked to take the test and declined. But there wasn’t time to consider what that actually means.

Did Emori transcend? Her body was dead but her consciousness was alive, and we saw her orb swirl around John’s and transcend. Is she in his mind? Apparently she was in the final scene, but she was hard to spot, even on re-watch. This feels like an odd loose end to leave hanging and not make more explicit, especially after spending so much time this season building up these two possible deaths. Whether she lived or said goodbye in the mindspace, both could have been satisfying, but the in-between space feels accidental or even thoughtless.

In the end, it got me to see all these characters back together on Earth and building again. While they didn’t transcend, it’s their own kind of heaven to be together and to create a life that’s (presumably) free from violence and war. It doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny of course, but when I think of the show from seasons one and two that I fell in love with, it’s the final scenes on the shore that I’ll recall, if I think of the finale at all. 

More likely, I’ll think of Octavia’s time on Sky Ring, Indra’s relationship with her daughters and how she let them teach her as much as she taught them, Gabriel’s humanity and eternal sense of curiosity, and the way Murphy and Emori changed so much, but always back to one another. How much I enjoyed meeting Hope, how Diyoza evolved beyond my wildest imagination, Raven’s strength and how she owned her mistakes, and so much more from so many seasons gone by and characters long gone. And how much this little show that people ignored or made fun of had to say about grief, trauma, colonialism, found family, and what we do to survive. 

May we meet again. 

Other notes…

The high power mind palace place looks like the galaxy version of Rainbow Road but a lot less fun. Carved into the wood are Cadogan and his daughter’s initials, plus “Ben was here,” and JR + JR in a heart, which I assume was Jason Rothenberg’s tribute to his wife Joy. Any idea what these mean, or spot any others? Let us know in the comments.

They still have not explained how Earth even exists right now. Are they back in time? Is this one magic? Are we in a multiverse? Alright, I know, I give up…It just feels relevant since a spinoff is happening on Earth at another time to know if that’s how Earth has suddenly cropped up all fine and dandy again.

Can we just take a moment to appreciate how incredibly long Raven’s to do list was during this episode? Did she time travel? She must be exhausted.

War is bad and stuff, but hell yeah O in her OG Trikru war paint! Linctavia forever.

I just want it on the record that I’m bummed out that Jordan’s plan did not involve spraying algae on all the invisible Disciples.

One thing I do appreciate is that The 100 continued to reckon with the doctrine of jus drein, jus draun and various aspects of Grounder culture until the very end.

The contemporary music for The 100 has always been used sparingly and generally to great effect. Here we got a heavier hand than usual, but I think it still worked. The cover of REM’s “The One I Love” had the sort of intensity needed for the battlefield, though it seems they were using a very literal interpretation of the title. The Vance Joy song Miller/Jackson and Memori dance to felt like a lighter touch, especially when was filtered through some brain waves. Using U2 for the final scenes is the perfect Dad Rock move from Jroth, though “Bad” is somehow both surprising and on the nose. (Were they not allowed to use “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” or “Where the Streets Have No Name”?)

It is low-key hilarious that Murphy is the first person Clarke assumes might not have transcended

Clarke not getting to go to the Promised Land is very Moses of her, which sort of works because Clarke is very Old Testament.

Birth control suddenly being handled feels like a real gift but also a weird thing for the Lexified higher being to mention, since this show has very much ignored birth control for seven whole seasons.

The post The 100 Season 7 Episode 16: The Last War appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[intergalacticrp]

NAME :// KATSUKI BAKUGOU ORIGIN :// BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA AGE :// TWENTY-TWO GENDER :// TRANS MALE JOB :// CONSTRUCTION LABORER FC :// JEON JEONGGUK ( JUNGKOOK )

Do your dirty work without me           Say you're best when no one can see                     Stand up, catch fire with me                               This kid's not alright

BIOGRAPHY ://

Katsuki was raised in a household that used violence as a form of control. A form of punishment. His mother was always a short-tempered woman, one who got sick of Katsuki’s loud-mouth and attitude. His father never raised a hand, but he did sit back and watch with pity. He’d try to talk her down but rarely did it ever work. Not behind closed doors where people couldn’t see. Mitsuki, his mother, believed in physical correction, and Katsuki took her way of raising to heart. Violence became normal. Deserved. If he stepped out of line, he deserved a slap across his face. It never really stopped him, he still matched her attitude with his own, but he never questioned it. Never thought that perhaps this wasn’t what a functional family was.

Even as a child, Katsuki as always excelled. He’s always had a natural mastery at everything he tries. Both academically and physically gifted, Katsuki always stood out above his peers. The son of a fashion designer father and an overly confident and forward mother, Katsuki’s confidence and looks drew people to him like moths to a flame. At first, Katsuki had been overly happy to have people look up at him, more than any his ‘friend’ Izuku. It was nice having people look up to him after all. People to sing his praise. Sure, he didn’t treat his friends all that well, but they weren’t on his level. Besides, he wasn’t overly cruel. Not at first, at least.

It all changed the day Katsuki fell into a creek, the majority of his friends insisting he was fine. And he was! There wasn’t anything Katsuki could do. He was okay. He didn’t need ‘help’. Then, of course, Izuku had to offer him an unwanted helping hand. For all the things Katsuki is great at, reading and understanding people wasn’t one of those things. What was offered as a helping hand appeared to Katsuki as nothing but an insult. That his ‘friend’ was looking down on him. Judging him. His weak little friend was suddenly looking at him as the lesser of the two. Sure, that wasn’t at all what Izuku felt, but Katsuki was an irrational child. From then on, Katsuki tormented the boy. His once bright confidence turned bitter and violent. No matter what Katsuki did to try and shake the boy and distance them, Izuku stuck around. And God did Katsuki try to get rid of him. Cruel words turned to violence and, in time, even threats of murder. And still Izuku followed him around, looking at him with those ‘superior’ eyes. Those kind eyes that Katsuki saw as judging. Every leap forward Izuku made only ended up making Katsuki feel smaller.

It all seemed to spiral out of control one day when Katsuki was assaulted, a man much bigger and stronger catching him off guard. No matter what, Katsuki couldn’t get away. He was saved with the help of none other than Izuku, a fact that rubbed the salt in the wound. Not only couldn’t he save himself, the weak little ‘Deku’ tried to. The incident shook him up more than he lets on and his hate for the other boy only grew. His mother didn’t make matters all that better. She’d berated him, telling him off for putting other people out for not being able to save himself. She’d never been the most understanding of mothers. The fact that he got in the way was an embarrassment. Doubling his efforts so he’d never get caught up in a situation like that again, never be looked down upon again, he became even more hostile though he learned how to channel it. Hating the scum of society, Katsuki picked a lot of fights with criminals. He often threw himself into dangerous situations in the delusion that he was a ‘hero’. After all, heroes always win, and nothing was more important to the boy than winning.

With age, Katsuki has managed to suppress his violent tendencies. After countless fights with the other, his relationship with Izuku has evolved into a rivalry. Knowing that he’d misinterpreted Izuku’s intentions, there is a level of regret for his actions, though like hell he’d ever admit it. He doesn’t lash out violently so easily anymore, though he’s still prone to snapping back angry and snide comments. He’s still learning to reign it in. Seeing how violence effected people like Shouto Todoroki, he’s trying to change his view on violence. Starting to see that maybe it isn’t the best way to handle every situation. Having a ‘friend’ like Eijiro around certainly helps. The guy is always at his side, building Katsuki up and knocking him back down when he’s over his head. It’s a little tedious learning how to make friends again, but he does have a Eijiro and a small pack of ‘friends’ who are able to tolerate him.

Construction works well for Katsuki, for now. It’s a hands on job that helps build his muscles. The constant loud noises have started to damage his hearing though he doesn’t acknowledge it. He’s concerned that, with time, he’ll lose it though he’s also afraid of admitting any level of weakness. He does have a tendency to talk louder than strictly necessary because of his hearing problems but people (thankfully) brush it off as his normal irritating behaviour. He doesn’t plan on working there forever though it works for now. In the end, he prefers skulking down alleyways and playing the ‘hero’ than actual work. Living alone is a blessing though. No screaming matches with his mother as his father timidly watches on. No slapping or hitting. No hands grasping his forearms so hard it leaves marks as he prepares for the blow. He goes to see them every once in awhile because, whether he admits it or not, he does care for them. Even if he spouts insults and crude names at them and still riles his mother up to the point she gets physical all over again. It was his mother that he got his ‘stellar’ personality from after all. The one who pushed him to be something greater than he was and never need from anyone else. A negative and self-destructive trait, but one Katsuki prides himself on.

AESTHETIC ://

angry words scrawled in sharp letters, shouted in a harsh tone, communicated but not communicating at all. fire, bright and orange and incredible. a fist, curled and pulled back, ready. the way a rude cackle can stretch your mouth. glass shattered, and realizing it was you only when you pull back and your hand is covered in blood. the crunch of someone's ribs beneath your fist. leather jacket and handwraps. the ground shaking, an explosion in your ear. never completely at peace.

MISC ://

bakugou knows that he's not really the type of person that people want to hang out with. he's crude, violent, arrogant. aggressive, prideful, and has one hell of a superiority complex. but he's one talented guy, so he doesn't see why he should have to dumb himself down just to spend time with some nobodies.

bakugou has known izuku midoriya- or, as he called him for so long he can't remember when it began, deku- since they were kids. they had a good childhood. it was nice to have someone following him around telling him how great he was. but as the years went on and deku revealed just how useless he was, bakugou couldn't be bothered having him around anymore. stealing the attention, showing him up just by being a good kid. so bakugou pushed him away in the way he knew best: belittling, bullying, and sometimes straight up hurting him.

katsuki’s mother was the type to believe in controlling her child with violence. smacks up the head, vile words, bruises in the shape of hands. katsuki was taught that the way to deal with people was through violence through her. only katsuki never really learnt how to fear her which only led to arguments and more violence. his father, such a soft spoken man, could never really step between them. katsuki’s relationship with his mother is one founded on violence and degrading. his relationship with his father is pitiful. unlike katsuki, his father was more likely to bend under his wife’s hostility. katsuki swore he’d never become like his father.

likes spicy food and mountain climbing.

not very social. works off energy (and violent tendencies, since they seem to tamp down when he's physically exhausted) through a good number of extra activities. that includes but is not limited to: any workouts he can fit in, taking random physical combat classes here and there to up his skill level, and training with anyone who happens to be in one of the many gyms across the space station. training can be anything from a weight lifting competition to hand to hand combat.

CONNECTION://

izuku midoriya : childhood playmate turned nuisance turned rival.

eijiro kirishima & denki kaminari : they get along; doesn't mean bakugou likes them or anything.

shoto todoroki : rival.

yang xiao long : they train together sometimes.

AVAILABILITY :// OPEN ||- TAKEN BY TAZ