#underbush

[parlerenfleurs]

My crazy ambition now that I live near a decent forest is to just. Plant stuff there

Have a "food forest" of sorts but for plants I want to let be wild and then harvest

There would be no harm in allowing perfectly local, indigenous plants to grow where it's convenient for me because they wouldn't grow/ survive/ reproduce if they don't like it there. I would just participate in the age old practice of being of the animal kingdom, especially as a big hairy mammal: allowing seeds to travel from point A to point B. I'd just be doing it on purpose.

Just like how I've stolen a baby taken a young laurel tree and will be planting it in my home instead, no big deal

[saltsongwc]

does swiftpaw still die in this au?

Swiftpaw's Stand

“She’s not going to give us our warrior names” he spat, clawing the moss of his bed while the apprentices around him listen, it wasn’t fair, Cloudtail had been an apprentice less then him, Brackenfur and Cinderpelt were younger when they were made apprentice.

And yet, he was still an apprentice, and now Thornpaw and Brightpaw were suffering the same thing he was.

Fernpaw’s tail  flickered, the young apprentice turning her head away “What should we do then? Come up to her and demand your ceremony? ‘Oh mighty Bluestar please spare us a warrior name!’ And! And we approach all demanding, I’m sure that’s a great idea” Ashpaw snickered at her sister’s comment, and he noticed Thornpaw’s gaze moving from him.

“We can only wait, right? Bluestar is old, maybe Fireheart will be leader soon and he’ll give us our warrior names!” Brightpaw tried to smile, lighting up the expressions, but neither one of the apprentices shared her sentiment, a leader like Bluestar, older than any of them, and how many lives were still left with her? It could be until the next New Leaf when they were given names…

“Unless you go around a spit that you don’t believe in Starclan then forget about your names” Ashpaw stretched and yawned, curling around himself dropping on his bed.

Swiftpaw’s gaze returned to his paws, unsheathing and sheathing his claws methodically as he pondered “We could do something brave” He muttered, the three apprentices still listening turned their heads toward him “We find what’s killing the prey, we get rid of it, and she’ll have no choice but to make us warriors” the more he spoke, the more hopeful his words became, louder until they were heard through the den “No one is caring about it! Not Fireheart nor Bluestar, but if we fix it and we prove them we’re brave they’ll have to make us warrior.

‘They’ll have to, right?’

Thornpaw was looking at him like he grew another pair of ears, Fernpaw’s gaze was worried but Brightpaw.

Brightpaw was facing away, her eyes thoughtful,and a small, barely noticeable curve of her mouth as she smiled.

“Snakerock’s” She muttered, jumping onto a fallen log, Swiftpaw followed as well, the rocks were barely visible in the distance, poking themselves from the underbush “Whitestorm is going to kill me tomorrow”

“Longtail too” he agreed, the two apprentices glanced to each other and laughed “But we’ll return warriors”

“...Do you think we can kill it?” she whispered, traitorous and consuming doubt, a flaw Swiftpaw had gotten rid of, there was no space to doubt, not when they were close enough to their goal.

“That or drive it away” his head high, he turns to look at her. Her slightly frightened expression pains his heart for a moment, and he pushes his head against her while purring “I’m your kin, okay? I’m not gonna let anything hurt you Brightpaw, I promise”

“I know” she whispers, returning the purr and closing her eyes “I’m excited, we’ll be warriors Swiftpaw”

“What name would you like?” He jumps down from the log, and waits for her to join her on the ground before resuming their treck towards the rocks “I want something fierce, like, Swiftclaw! Or or, heh, Swiftrock imagine”

Brightpaw laughs, shaking her head “I saw you as a Swiftfrost maybe” she walks faster, now the two of them starting to trot “I would like… Brightheart” he glances at her, his smile softening and nodding.

“Lionheart will be proud” she stops for a moment, her head rising high and nodding before taking off in a sprint towards Snakerocks “Brightpaw! Wait for me!” He calls.

The leaves and bushes hugged his pelt, yet they parted as he chased his friend through it, the only thing visible from where he was was the tip of her tail disappearing into the darkness of the night.

“Brightpaw!” He tripped, biting the dirt and coughing a bit as her tail disappeared to the bushes that hid the rocks “Wait! Come on…” he sighed, standing up, the fur on his neck standing by a chill air, and he stepped through the leaves shaking his head and looking down “I know you’re excited but come on we’re in this toge-”

Head looking up, his body froze as the beast charged towards him jaws open.

“-Swiftpaw… Swiftpaw… Swiftpaw!” it hurt to open his eyes, eye? he gurgled out a pool of blood (unsure how, his neck, he was bleeding, he felt it), with as little strenght as he could his gaze landed on Longtail’s face, his mentor in distressing looking at him, at him? No, his body, Longtail was examining his body, his wounds “We’ll get you to Thunderclan, okay? And Tigerfoot will patch up, just, stay with me okay?”

He was crying, no, not him, Longtail was crying, those were his tears that fell onto his pelt, Swiftpaw wheezed and tried to crawl towards his mentor, but Longtail curled around, sobbing. They would not make it to Thunderclan.

Goldenflower wasn’t here? He hears his mentor deny and it makes him realize he can’t tell if what he’s thinking is actually what he’s saying.

“I got one…” He affirms, visible just beyond the embrace of his friend is the carcass of the beast that did this. Longtail nods, and he whimpers just low enough when the warrior licks his forehead in comfort.

He’s dying.

Dying...

It’s the warmth of being surrounded by his mother’s pelt while he watched Frostfur’s newly born kits suckle beside their mother’s belly, it’s the warmth of sleeping in a pile with all of his kin and friends because he was their protector, the oldest, he was supposed to be there and help them.

“Brightpaw… Brightpaw was hurt” Longtail is telling him they got her, they were rushing her to Thunderclan… 

Good… At least she was safe...

You're dying Swiftpaw.

He's dying without a name. Without a mother beside him, without his friends to whisper memories, but at least one cat to mourn him...

That's enough, one cat is enough for him, he always liked Longtail, there was no other mentor he would rather have, but he wished there was another apprentice the other could've had... One that wasn't foolish like him. One that he would mentor to warriorhood, unlike him.

The shape infront of him is a shape that looks like a cat, but he's unsure, it's small and with a pelt covered of stars... no, she's bigger, she's a warrior with tuft of furs and big, with kind eyes and familiar face... was that Lynxkit?

You did good.

She sounds like Goldenflower, he's crying, he feels his heart beating, he doesn't want to die, he clings to Longtail and wheezes, claws digging into a golden pelt as he feels his body be carried, Lynxkit is following him.

You can close your eyes, you can sleep.

He's holding his eye open with all the strenght he can muster, he's creaming, the pain is burning him, the fangs are piercing his flesh.

Oh Swiftpaw...

He's dropped as gently as they can into a bed, there are shouts muffled by the body of his sister standing above him.

You'll be a warrior in Starclan, because you did good, you fought, you won! You saved Brightpaw you can rest.

From the corner of his eye, he watches as Cinderpelt busily works her sister's wounds, he feels large paws pressing the cobwebs onto his wounds and he screams from the pain.

Dying is the comfort of kithood and the thrill of being a warrior.

He can't let Brightpaw go through it alone, he won't abandon her, he can't.

Lynxkit stares at him, and she's just as small as she would be the time she died, she puts her paws on his muzzle and smiles, pressing her head to him the same way he did to Brightpaw, to her siblings, the same way her mother would do, in a way she told him his father had done to her many moons ago.

I'll wait once you're ready little brother, I'll be waiting.

He blinks for a moment, the pain is present, but she's gone, and with pain he goes to sleep, breathing, alive.

[hiveswap]

I love cats i habe a little guy on my floor who should be hunting in the underbush yet hes in my door going "moooom?moom? Mommy?? Let me eat plastic?" In his babiest voice

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 2 - Alternate prompt: Animal bite

TW/CW: Fae whumper, mortal whumpee, animal bite, flesh wound, creepy whumper, teenzy gaslighting, scared whumpee, non-con body control, binding word Word count: 1'000

Coyotes are absolutely not supposed to be native to our forests!?!

Whumpee ran on the narrowing dirt path, soles of their sneakers hitting the soil with quick thumps.

Behind them another loud bark sounded. This time even closer than before.

Tree. Tree. They had to find a tree. Something high to climb onto. But just as their eyes settled onto two large foundlings on either side of the road and they bolted between them pain exploded in their left calf. They came crashing to the floor, jerking around to see a coyote latching onto their leg, teeth blazed and already sprinkled red from their blood. Panicked their fingers searched the ground until closing around a larger stone and aggressively throwing it towards the animal...Only that it never hit them. Completely unsettled they robbed back a few more paces until a shiver ran over their spine. They looked back-nothing but forest.

They looked to the front again-nothing. No coyote, definitely still an injured leg-but wait. There was something. A pair of eyes watching them from the tangled thicket. Still holding the stone up high they yelled out: "Who's there? Why are you watching me!?"

A chuckle, barely distinguishable from the ruste of leaves. And then a voice sounded like the flow of water: "More enticingly; Who are you?"

Luckily they were more outraged than naive so they ignored the creature's question and doubled down: "Why did you just stand there as that coyote attacked me!?"

"What coyote?", the voice asked unfathomable, smiling everlastingly, now a little more visible.

"The one that was just-" But was it? They think. Had it really been there? It was gone when they looked back but they didn't hear any rustling or paws hitting the soil. Their eyes fell back to the still bleeding flesh wound on their leg. Part of it was definitely real!

"Oh dear, you're injured.", the creature commented. Always in the same inscrutable tone of voice. "That doesn't look so good."

"Yes! It also hurts. Now either you help me get out of this forest and to a doctor or leave me alone!"

"Hmm.", the creature mused, as if overturning Whumpees ultimatum. "Well what would I get in return?"

"Wh-What!? I'm literally bleeding right now, what type of person do you have to be in order to not help somebody injured with a flesh wound unless you get something out of it!?". they ranted.

"-I'm sorry I didn't quite catch it before. Could you give me your name again?", the creature interrupted casually.

"Wha-Its Whumpee.", they answered puzzled. Taken off guard by the interruption. They sigh annoyed. "Now can we please go!?"

"Whumpee.", the creature drawled out. Repeating the name as if testing how the name felt on their tongue.

Simultaneously Whumpee felt a chill run down their spine.

The creature asked, stepping out of the dense underbush and onto the dirt path.

Now they could finally see their mysterious companion. They were dressed in flowly clothes that, if you looked closely enough, seemed to go back and fourth between cloth and leaves. Autumm coloured leaves, nearly glowing in yellows, oranges and reds were everywhere. Even in the creatures chestnut hair and adorning its iridescent skin. Faint but intricate antlers grew on top of its head.

"Whumpee", they said, repeating the name again. Each time seemingly with more finality. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind standing up now, would you?", they asked.

And despite the pain that was still searing throught Whumpees leg and their disdain at the thought of doing what this egoistic and very weird looking person asked their body obeyed. Standing up on shaky legs and wincing as weight was applied to the wound.

"Now, follow me if you wouldn't mind.", they ordered and took a couple steps back, fully crossing between the two foundlings and beckoning a now very unsettled Whumpee closer.

"What-What's happening?", Whumpee asked. Their body starting to move after the person.

"I'm simply...Trying to help you, of course. If you would please follow me into this circle right here.", they commanded. Taking another step back into what appears to be a naturally grown circle of mushrooms. Venemous ones on top of that.

And despite Whumpees best attempts to regain control over their own body they followed it. "Iii would rather not, thank you." Through those two stones and into the circle. Their eyes widended. Oh no. Of course they had heard of the stories, the fabels and joke-warnings. Speaking of fairy circles and stolen babies, changlings and abductions from deep within the forest through magical hand but they never believed that it would be real! Or that it would happen to them! It couldn't. Right? "You-You're…a fairy?", they finally mustered up as their foot was already inside the circle.

The creature smiled, or much rather bared their teeth at them, pointy and sharp looking. "Oh my dear little human, I'll give you this bit of information for free. I'm a Fae." And with that they grapped the human's arm with their long fingers and pulled them completely into the circle. "And by telling me your name you sold yourself to me!", they explained gleefully.

Whumpee's face turned ash-white but as they opened their mouth to…yeah to do what? To portest? To plead for their life? The Fae put a long, iridescent hand over their eyes and effectively silenced them in the process.

"Sssh. There will be more time for talking later. Now let's go to a doctor and then home.", they smiled wickedly and the world outside of the circle seemed to shift. Colour dots lengthening into brushes and contours blurring until. It all suddenly stopped again. The Fae took their hand off of Whumpee's eyes and graciously allowed them to see again.

They had to blink against the light when they opened their eyes again. It hadn't been this bright before, has it? But then they finally really looked. And Oh Gods! Everything looked different! Where were they!?

"Welcome to the Fae Wild little mortal!"

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober, @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @shattermind-8

[dr-futbol-blog]

Epiphany, Pt. 7

Having ventured out into the sanctuary, Sheppard was about to come across the Jabberwocky, the local boogeyman, the beast that plagues the Paradise. He hears some kind of an animal screeching or bellowing somewhere in the underbush and has his weapon at the ready. While he is concerned, given that this is literally alien terrain and there could be anything waiting out there for him, and the beast sounded pretty big besides, he is prepared to take it on. While there has probably not been a day in his life that John Sheppard has not felt fear, this is not the type of thing that frightens him, not really. This he can deal with.

Sheppard: Well, you're either gonna eat me... or I'm gonna eat you!

Sheppard quips at the beast, and this is a classic case of him using wisecracking in relieving tension. He is not actually saying it to the beast, he is saying it to himself, to boost his confidence. Similarly he does not lick his lips here because his mouth is watering over the image of him eating this tasty animal, it is his self-soothing tick, being a thing that soldiers are wont to do. Tyrteus, writing about the Spartan warriors during the Second Messenian War, described them preparing for battle: "But let everyone stand fast, with legs set well apart and both feet fixed on the ground, biting his lip with his teeth." And obviously he is saying that he is going to eat the thing that is coming at him, he is hungry enough to do just that.

What he says here is interesting in two regards. First, because the beast is actually a psychic manifestation of the sum total of the fears of the people living in the sanctuary, in a sense being "fear itself," Sheppard is essentially saying that either he must conquer his own fears or they will eat him up alive. It is very poetic, and pertinent to his character. But also, because Teer had sent her brother Avrid to meet Sheppard and he was about the spring from the bushes to meet him, Avrid being a man whose companionship Sheppard really seems to yearn for before long, promising to eat Avrid or let Avrid eat him is also fitting. It is innuendo either way. Also, there is a transition from Sheppard saying this to McKay talking about loading supplies, being consumables, meaning that both of them are thinking about eating. But at the same time, it also sort of makes McKay the "you" of the reference here because we see neither the beast nor Avrid yet.

On Atlantis, McKay, Weir and Beckett have changed their t-shirts into fatigues and seem to be on their way to the jumper bay to take off. While later on McKay questions whether it is wise for Weir to accompany them to the other side, it is entirely possible it was McKay's idea to convince Weir to come with them as far as the portal, to translate the Ancient text they had discovered there. Her skills as a diplomat are not really relevant for this mission, so it is her ability to translate Ancient that must be the reason she is even coming along. Unlike McKay and Beckett, she is not wearing a tactical vest, and is probably unarmed too.

McKay: We've loaded weeks of supplies and everything I could think of. Beckett: What are we not thinking of? Weir: Now take a minute, and be certain. If your theory is correct, you won't be able to make many of these trips. McKay: I am painfully aware of that. Weir: I remind you only because from what you've told me, rushing is what got Sheppard into trouble in the first place.

Because McKay's entire brain is on saving Sheppard, he seems to have been going over scenarios that might happen, had tried to load their jumper up with anything at all that they could need to get him out. He feels terrible about what happened and blames it entirely on himself, and for some reason Weir decides to pile it on him some more. And while she may have good intentions--she claims to want to make sure that they have everything necessary because she is so very, very worried about Sheppard--what she is actually doing here is wasting their time. She even mentions taking a "minute" here, which could mean hours for Sheppard (one minute equals around 4 hours in the sanctuary, as per Teyla's calculations).

McKay's response to Weir is the same as it had been for Sheppard in Trinity (S02E06), when he had reminded him that a member of McKay's team was in the morgue: "And I am responsible for his death, yes. I am painfully aware of that. I sent him in there and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life." His voice does not crack here as it did then but he is similarly, if not even more, affected by this, by what he sees as his own hand in things turning out this way. However, let us note that he leaves the latter part of what he said then unsaid here. If we learned something from The Hive (S02E11), it is that McKay does not think that he can live without Sheppard. He would rather give up his life in an attempt at saving him than continue living in a world where there is no Sheppard, and hence his omission here is concerning.

McKay: This was not his fault, it was mine. I should have looked more closely at the video. The clues were there before he even stepped through. Look, all I can hope to do now is fix this within his lifetime. Beckett: His lifetime? McKay: If it takes us a week to ten days to fix this, then it won't matter, because he will probably have died of old age. Weir: Oh my God.

While it is not entirely clear which one of them Weir was blaming for this (or even if he put the responsibility on both of them), it is clear as day whom McKay blames. But even so, he jumps to Sheppard's defense here, tolerating no insinuation that what had happened had in any shape or form been Sheppard's fault. And what people say about someone when they are not around to hear it is important. McKay defends Sheppard when he is not there to defend himself because that is what you do for a partner, for a significant other. And let us note again that McKay takes full responsibility for what he perceives as his mistake, naming the thing that he had done wrong. And yes, McKay probably should have looked more carefully at the video but he was clearly distracted by Sheppard's presence and this is something that gets worse and worse over time, coming to a head just before the events of Sunday (S03E17).

As discussed in connection with Weir and McKay's exchange in The Hive, when McKay was trying to tell Weir about what had happened to Sheppard and Weir was unable to understand what he was saying because he was talking about Ford instead of Sheppard, McKay had tried to tell her through circumlocution what had happened because talking directly about Sheppard seemed to be too painful for him. Here, we see why he generally does that in similar situations: when he says the words "died of old age," his voice does not just crack, his voice trembles like he was about to break out in tears right then and there. That is what he really feels, what he tries to keep from spilling out with all of his considerable ability at concealing his emotions. We see it only briefly, but the look in his eyes has such deep fear and sorrow in them that it makes him look almost childlike.

What he says here is also interesting given later events. McKay says that he is going to do everything in his power to fix this within Sheppard's lifetime. In The Last Man (S04E20), we see him spend his own entire lifetime, all the days of his life, to get Sheppard back from the future even though what had happened then was not even remotely his fault. He spends the rest of his life figuring out how to get Sheppard back to his own time when only seconds have passed for Sheppard, making it almost an inversion of what happens here. Forward, backward, compressed, dilated, submerged, theirs is a love that crosses dimensions and time.

McKay: Yeah, hence the rushing. Now, you ready? You don't look ready. Beckett: I'm ready. Weir: I need to pick up a few of my books to help with the translation. McKay: Well, we'll pick them up on the way, and I hope you've got us a real jumper pilot because I don't trust him and I can't fly the damned thing in a straight line.

It seems as though Beckett and Weir had just as hard a time wrapping their heads around this as Ronon and Teyla did, and it was only McKay painting a picture of what is about to happen that made them understand the full severity of the problem. But even in spite of that Weir wants to get a few more books just to cover her basis, and it seems to have been this book-run that gave Teer the time to enact her plan of seducing Sheppard, which will be discussed in more detail later. Also notable here is McKay's call-back to The Defiant One (S01E12) and Sheppard teaching him how to fly, which just confirms that McKay is thinking about Sheppard like that was in any doubt here, like he doesn't think about Sheppard like it's his job on the regular.

Sheppard had pointed out that McKay cannot fly in a straight line. Neither Sheppard nor McKay can navigate on the ground, meaning that while Sheppard can fly straight, he cannot walk in a straight line to save his life. McKay not flying straight is a metaphor for his sexual orientation. And since this whole episode is basically an ode to Sheppard's bisexuality, it is fitting that we rejoin him as he seems to be utterly adrift on a treeless clearing. He is about to run into Avrid, sent to receive Sheppard by his sister who seems to have known precisely what would happen here and had hence placed her brother purposefully into jeopardy. But all is fair, and all that.

Avrid: Help! Help! Help me, please! Sheppard: Where is it? Avrid: It's there! In the trees.

First of all, the meadows that Sheppard is walking on here resemble the meadows that he and McKay had had their private chat on at Ford's planet in The Lost Boys (S02E10), where he had followed McKay as though he had been a piece of metal towed by a magnet. It would be only natural for Sheppard to be thinking about McKay as he is taking a stroll through the hay here. He does miss McKay something terrible and it is not irrelevant to what takes place then.

Avrid is the first person that Sheppard runs into in what is going to become his home for six months, following probably a week of not having had any human companionship that he had desired to the point of wishing he had a volleyball to talk to. It is understandable that Avrid becomes rather important to him. Avrid gets right into Sheppard's personal space, excused by the fact that he seems very afraid of what ever appears to be chasing him. He is a beautiful man, seems to have the Ancient gene like all of the people in the sanctuary (the folks living here seem to be the closest thing to living Ancients in the galaxy), dressed in flowing white linen. He runs right up to Sheppard in need of him, and let us just take a moment to appreciate the fact that instead of sending herself or an innocent little girl to fetch Sheppard, Teer seemed to know that Sheppard's protective instincts would be triggered best by her brother here.

Sheppard: What is it? Avrid: The Beast! Sheppard: Alright, is there a safe place for us to go? Avrid: No, no, the Cloister is too far. It is upon us! Sheppard: Stay down, and stay behind me. Avrid: You can't fight it! Sheppard: Maybe we can scare it away.

What we see here is an instant rapport. They have a back-and-forth going on and they seem to move as one when Sheppard tells Avrid to duck with him, meaning that there is also a physical resonance there. Sheppard also explicitly tells Avrid to get behind him, and so does something that that we have seen him do with McKay but that has never been verbalized (and we have seen multiple examples of Sheppard not putting his body in harm's way for other people than McKay, so this is not a small thing that happens here). Also, in these few moments he has already asked Avrid more questions than he asked Neera the whole time they were locked up in a cell together. But maybe it is that Sheppard is just bereft of human company. Maybe he hopes that he can employ this man's help in getting out of here. What ever the reason, Sheppard prepares to face any kind of beast for this man and this set-up is undeniably romantic.

We have seen this exact scene play out with a man and a woman countless of times, and it has never not been romantic. Not seeing the same dynamic here when it is so readily available is largely caused by heterosexism, not just refusing to see the romantic undertones but refusing to acknowledge a man in need of and seeking physical protection from another man.

Also, it is ironic that Sheppard's plan is to scare the beast away given how the beast is comprised of the fears of the people living in the sanctuary. But alas, it appears as though this beast cannot be killed using conventional weapons. The beast seems also to be invisible to the naked eye, making it that much more difficult to conquer, and given that we just got a reference to Conan the Barbarian, we would be amiss not to mention the beast's resemblance to the Predator, another classic (unintentionally homoerotic) Arnold Schwarzenegger feature.

Sheppard: Get out of here!

This whole scene seems to be fanservice and needless eroticization of Sheppard. He is flung to the ground by the invisible beast and the way he looks behind him over his ass is a classic gay pin-up pose, and there is not a chance on God's green Earth that the director was not aware of that. Also, the camera lingers on Sheppard's package here again which the cinematographer seems to like zeroing in on. And let us also note the tantalizing stretch of skin shown as his shirt and jacket ride up here, which eroticizes Sheppard in a way few male protagonists are ever eroticized, objectified -- but just like Marty McFly was in Back to the Future, as discussed in connection with Before I Sleep (S01E15), doing the same ass-up pose and everything.

And then there is the invisible rodeo bull that Sheppard rides here with his ass up, conquering what is a rather obvious symbol of male sexuality and virility. It is made even more homoerotic by the fact that the bull is invisible and he is hence shown riding just on top of Avrid. The gay rodeo is actually a pretty interesting phenomenon, harking back to those Reagan-era attitudes toward homosexuality that both Sheppard and McKay had matured under.

The gay rodeo was established at the height of a national crisis in masculinity... A lot of Ronald Reagan’s rhetoric was about manning up after the social and cultural movements of the 1960s and 1970s. The gay rodeo pushed back on the metropolitan chauvinism of queer culture, offering exiled gay people in rural places a new home... in part because the ingrained hypermasculinity of the rodeo countered the notion that gay culture was inherently urban and effeminate.

The scene, that is, presents Sheppard in both effeminate and hypermasculine light at the same time, which is actually rather characteristic for him. He is both these things. And while Sheppard is symbolically wrestling with his fears as he literally wrestles the collective fears of the villagers here, this is also symbolic of sex. We are not shown Sheppard having sex with Avrid (we are not shown him having sex with Teer, either, it is implied), but this rough-and-tumble is definitely sexual. Sheppard uses all of his weapons, each and every one of them phallic ("This is my riffle, this is my gun, one is for fighting, one is for fun..."), in attacking the beast, definitely going at it. It also invites us to wonder what had happened between Sheppard and McKay on the meadows at Ford's planet that made it so very, very difficult for Sheppard to sit for like two episodes straight.

Alas, Sheppard loses the battle and is rendered unconscious, although he does not look unlike someone falling asleep from sheer exhaustion here. The battle took a lot out of him. He is drained. He is out of juice. He is spent. But also, let us put a pin on the fact that his tac vest, jacket and t-shirt were all torn to shreds by the claws of the beast. This will become important later on. His own tight-fitting black t-shirt is done for.

Continued in Pt. 8

[frippp]

Im doing some digital painting experiments so here have some giraffatitans

Also with the heard scene idk if its too accurate because i know sauropods don’t have singular babies like a elephant would but i feel theres a chance the baby sauropods join their mothers heard after hatching? Or maybe its like tortoises where the hatchlings just hide in the underbush untill they grow bigger

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole - Chapter 18

It's Alright

I got a baseball bat beside my bed

To fight off what inside my head

To fight off what's behind my meds

I'm lonely, lost in pain

It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay

You're not a monster, just a human

And you made a few mistakes

- It's Alright, Mother Mother

[hi guys :) we're almost done. Also if the format seems. Weird, it's bc I'm posting from my phone! Ao3 link might be delayed bc of that]

[ao3 link]

Barry just wanted to close his eyes for a second. That's all he wanted. Mystery was perfectly capable of flying on its own, he just wanted to rest his eyes.

For a brief, beautiful moment, he was on the back of his staraptor. He was back home. Soaring through the pecha colored clouds, the towns and cities below merely a speck.

And to his side was [____] on her Crobat. She smiled at him, as warm as the sun, and just as imperceivable as staring directly at it.

The moment didn’t last.

Because the next thing he knew, he was lying in a pile of broken tree branches with a hurt back, Mystery was loudly cawing, and some kid was yelling at them.

Despite being dressed like the new Galactic groups, this kid seemed harmless. Barry absolutely couldn’t say the same about the rocky behemoth that stood behind the boy, but the pokemon made no move to attack them, so Barry chose not to acknowledge it.

Clearly, General Irida didn’t brief this kid well enough.

(Definitely General Irida, because he was wearing pink. And a strange hat that Barry swore he saw somewhere else…but couldn’t remember specifics for the life of him.)

But the kid willingly gave him directions to Jubilife and let the two leave, like an idiot, so Barry did just that.

“Past…deertrack heights…” he repeated to himself, realizing he didn’t know what a ‘deertrack heights’ was. “...cross the river, then cross it…again.”

That didn’t make any sense. Maybe the directions were wrong, or maybe the kid lied to him. But Barry definitely needed to get out of this forest first.

The two eventually stumbled upon a creek, gently winding through the forest, psyducks and bunearies splashing in the crystal clear water. Combees buzzed around small patches of flowers, wurmples creeped and crawled through the underbush, burmies hung from trees.

“This isn’t a river…but it should lead to one.” Barry thought aloud. Then, he paused, turning to Mystery. “...let’s give you a break, bud. I think it might be a bit hard for you to follow me anyway.”

He recalled Mystery to its pokeball and, because he didn’t feel totally comfortable walking without a pokemon, he let Pest out of his.

“Hey buddy!” Barry cooed, scratching the side of the Mothim’s head. “Keep me company, OK? We’re looking for a river. And maybe if we run into any trouble with the bugs, you can let them know I don’t mean any harm, sound good?”

Pest chirped and chittered, fluttering around the boy affectionately.

The two followed the creek closely, Barry taking a moment to appreciate the calm of the forest and the fresh air. The pokemon seemed more skittish than he was used to back home, most fleeing from him immediately.

The exception were a few beautifly that flew over to examine him, but a few chirps and trills from Pest was enough to return to their flowers, uninterested.

Barry and Pest finally saw the forest start to thin. In no time at all, the soft soil of the forest was now the white sand of a beach, and the small creek flowed into a large river. A large dam was built over the river mouth, with several bidoofs tending to it.

Overseeing the bidoofs was a very large bibarel, it turned to the boy and his bug, pushing itself to stand on its hind legs, looming over the two with a snarl. Saliva dripped from its maw, its eyes glowing red.

Barry, at this point in his travels, wasn’t phased. He watched the bibarel with a tired expression, waiting for it to finish the threat display.

He reached into his bag for a pokeball, not taking his eyes off the enormous rodent. “Man, I’m not dealing with this. Snacks, take care of this guy.”

Snacks burst from its pokeball with a debatably fearsome squeal, pelting the bibarel with energy balls.

And Barry turned away, confident that Snacks could handle an overgrown rodent. He didn’t go far, just to the river bank, where the bidoofs fled from his presence.

He released Fern from its pokeball, and Fern - still under the influence of the hypnosis from that weird deer - promptly slumped into Barry’s arms, asleep. Under normal circumstances, Barry would love to let Fern keep sleeping, but they were so close.

Carefully laying Fern onto the soft sand, Barry scooped up a handful of water and splashed its face. “Sorry Bud, we gotta keep moving! You gotta wake up! We’re almost there!”

Fern sputtered and coughed, immediately sitting up and pawing at its face. It shot Barry an annoyed frown, and he sheepishly patted its back. “H-Heh…sorry.”

Snacks returned with a triumphant squeal, pointing at the now-unconscious bibarel, concerned bidoofs swarming around their leader. And at this, Barry smiled.

His pokemon were getting stronger. They were capable of winning battles on their own, capable of protecting themselves and him.

Of course, taking on the horde of Galactic Members that were likely on his tail was still a no-go. They had more pokemon, a defected Battle Facility Head, and Barry was fairly certain they’d find a way to cheat.

But this was good.

Now, Barry’s plan was to release his pokemon, have a quick meal, and continue their journey. But as he reached into his bag for Mystery and Jen, a tree fell in the forest.

And another. And another. When Barry looked over his shoulder, he could see the treeline shifting. Getting closer and closer-

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Barry began shoving things back into his bag, quickly recalling Snacks and was about to recall Pest when the thing chasing them finally broke through the treeline.

It was the rocky, insectoid behemoth from the woods, the little boy with the hat riding on his back. “There he is, Lord Kleavor! Prepare for punishment, troublemaker!”

Well, Barry wasn’t stupid enough to stay around to see what that entailed. With Pest clinging to his head and with Fern by his side, they ran. Splashing through the river, using the bidoof dam as extra footing.

It felt like all of Sinnoh was trying to track him down, at this point. Part of him was tempted to try and fight the thing head on, but when he glanced back, he could see ‘Lord Kleavor’ preparing for a charge attack.

“Outta the way-!” Barry pushed Fern and himself onto the opposite bank of the river just as the behemoth charged, smashing through the dam and crashing into a tree.

The ‘Kleavor’ took a moment to reorient itself, part of its rocky beak currently embedded into the tree it slammed into.

“It’s OK, Kleavor! Try again!”

“No-No, don’t, Kleavor! Don’t try again!” Barry said, already scrambling up from the beach and onto the more rocky terrain. His current theory was that this Kleavor pokemon could charge in a single direction, similar to the rampardos from before.

If he kept zig-zagging around, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

It was better than the group from before, that was certain.

"Stop running, scoundrel!" The little boy shouted, trying to sound as serious as possible. "You will face justice!"

Honestly, he sounded so…genuine. If Barry didn't know any better, he was almost convinced that he was doing something wrong.

He hadn’t done anything wrong…right? He just wanted his friend back, and Team Galactic was getting in the way! They were trying to stop him - weren’t they? They were trying to take over the world - weren’t they? They were going to kill him!

…weren’t they?

A horrible wave of nausea nearly overpowered him.

He had to be right. He couldn't afford to be wrong.

Besides, this kid was brainwashed by Team Galactic. Of course he'd get the facts wrong!

Kricketots and pichu scattered as Barry and Fern darted through the small foothills. He could hear the rocky pokemon behind them, stomping and smashing through trees to chase after them.

Slowly. Rock pokemon were generally not fast, and Barry thanked every God he knew for that.

They just needed to gain some more distance, then they could hide out and wait for the rock pokemon and the little kid to give up.

Then Barry could finally go to Jubilife. He'd finally end this. He’d punch Cyrus in his stupid, emotionless face, he’d fine him bajillions worth, he’d fine every single person working under him, he’d burn the place down-

Maybe that was too far. Maybe punching him was enough.

In the end, he just wanted Her back.

They were awfully high up in the hills now. Barry could see miles: the waterfalls, a Gyarados protectively snaking around the waters below, he could see a trail lined with unlit torches, a small bridge, and a tent.

But then he felt it. The rumbling of hoofs and paws against the earth.

Just up ahead, across a naturally formed land-bridge, the group from up in the mountains had caught up with him.

A screeching caw from above. The giant bird was circling around like a mandibuzz, the girl with green braids riding atop. "He's over here! Over here!"

Barry shouted the first thing that came to mind.

“HEY! SNITCH!”

Barry hadn't even realized he had stopped moving, only noticing when Fern began anxiously trying to nudge him forward. His legs had turned to stone. Once the feeling in his legs returned and once the adrenaline began coursing through his veins, he ran.

He thought he had more time! He thought they wouldn’t catch up that fast!

Maybe this was just his life now. Running forever. Team Galactic nipping at his heels for eternity.

Or until they killed him.

Barry turned, instinctively going back to try and retreat, only to be met with the Kleavor. It slammed its axe-shaped claws into the earth, bellowing loud enough to rattle his very bones.

Fern darted forward with an uppercut to the jaw, Kleavor stumbling back with a pained croon.

Barry started to cheer, pausing when noticing Fern wince and seeing sharp stones embedded into its fist.

“Hey, HEY! You hurt Fern!” he snapped.

“You ATTACKED a LORD?!” the boy snapped back, equally enraged, confused, and terrified.

That was the second time someone mentioned a Lord pokemon. The only thing he could think of were the Totem Pokemon from Alola. But they were meant to be challenged, weren't they? What was the issue here?

Every time he thought he had an idea of what was going on, a new, strange puzzle piece would spring out of the box and try to punch him in the face.

There was something different about this chase. The others seemed more…organized. Coordinated.

Barry's first instinct was to run down the mountain on a worn path, greeted with Irida and Gaeric riding Ursaluna. But when Barry tried to backtrack, the strange, white deer tried to cut him off.

Luckily, there was a tree Barry could climb on to escape, but he was immediately attacked by the giant bird. He had to duck and roll out of there to escape.

Upon ducking into a small crevasse, he was met with the long sneasel’s glowing eyes. It yowled as it approached, pointing at him with its long talons.

Barry bit back a yelp as he scrambled backwards, attempting to look elsewhere to hide. Every nook and cranny was crawling with the Galactic forces.

Before in the mountains it was a confused scramble; but this was planned.

He was being herded.

The thudding of hooves and paws and the yelling of Galaxy Commanders buzzed in his brain like a swarm of beedrill.

Despite all his efforts, all of his tricks, and all of his escape attempts, Barry had found himself being guided into an almost bowl-shape in the hill, the remains of a campfire and a tent laying in the middle, an enormous spire towering above.

Between a literal rock and a hard place, Barry reached into his bag and released all of his pokemon. The five placed themselves between him and the group slowly circling around, intent on fighting if need-be.

“You're not taking me." He said, voice low.

“You’re not exactly in a place to say that.” General Adaman said. “Come with us. We want to help you.”

He scowled at that.

“...ry!...”

Like being submerged underwater, every single other sound faded from Barry’s focus. The bickering between commanders, the various sounds of pokemon (both his and not), the very world around him; all drowned out.

Except for one, singular thing.

“...rry! Barry!...”

All of the air left his lungs in a shaky, wheezing breath.

The commanders had heard it this time, speaking quickly amongst themselves. Not that Barry could hear, nor could he bring himself to care.

He stepped forward. He stepped again. It was like wading through the murkiest of waters. Slowly stepping past the protective wall in his pokemon (much to their confusion) and out into the clearing.

“Baarrryy!”

There was a path that cut through the mountains, winding through the rocks with delicately carved statuettes on the sides.

He wasn't even really walking anymore. More stumbling forward, barely able to catch himself with the other foot before he fell on his face.

Nothing else mattered. Not the confused geodudes he passed, not the muffled calls of his pokemon, not the shouting from the Galactic forces-

Nothing else mattered.

Finally passing through the last of the hills and rocky cliffs, Barry saw a bridge. Made of wood. Unimportant.

Crossing the bridge, running at full speed, was a girl. She wore a blue outfit with a black sash around the middle, and she had a white covering for her head. Her long, black hair flowed as she ran.

She paused at the other end of the bridge, huffing and puffing, limbs shaking from the exertion. And she looked at him, a tired, hesitant smile on her face.

“Barry?”

Barry was thirteen. The police came to tell his mom and dad they were calling off the search soon. He had ran out of the house right then and there, despite his mother's pleas and father’s protests. He wasn't going to accept this. He wasn't.

Barry was twelve now. [___] had to be appointed as champion. It was really an excuse to throw a celebration, as Cynthia had explained, but it was still new and strange. He hated how he looked in a tuxedo, even as his mom fawned over him. [___] scrunched her nose as her mom squished her cheeks, praising ‘her little girl' for accomplishing so much. She had asked for Barry’s specifically, to stand by her side during the event, something that he was going to take very very seriously. A new champion doesn't happen every day! And once their parents had their attention elsewhere, he nudged her arm with a wink, and a promise to come fight her as champion soon.

Barry was eleven now. Pacing just outside of Hearthome. She was supposed to be here hours ago! What had taken her so long? He'd get his answer soon enough, when she'd sheepishly approach while holding a ralts. Oh, he was so mad at her. They had planned! They had arranged to meet! He was on time for once! He was never on time for anything!! But she could only hold up the ralts a little higher with a shy smile, and Barry had to reluctantly agree - that ralts was pretty cute.

Barry was ten. He held his new turtwig high into the air, smiling from ear to ear. Upon soaking in the feeling, the realization that he was indeed a pokemon trainer, he spun right around and insisted on a battle. [___] was hesitant. She wasn't totally sure if her piplup was ready. But he was quick to assure her that she was. They wanted to be trainers, right? And he would be by her side as her best friend and rival. If she was ever unsure, or ever scared, or ever alone. He would be there. And with that reassuring, she agreed to their first ever battle.

Barry was nine. He hated fourth grade. In order to prepare them for secondary school, he now had a rotating class schedule, and it was a nightmare. Now he had four classes! And all of them had homework! How was anyone supposed to juggle this?! And so [___] came to his home after school, choosing not to comment on his red cheeks and audible sniffles. She told Barry that she, too, was having issues with the multiple classes. But that was OK. This was just so they could practice for when they moved to secondary school. And she pulled all her books onto his desk, and suggested they work on homework together.

Barry was seven when his mom suggested he go over to her house across the street. He was greeted by her mother, warm as always, but there was a strange air he couldn't place. Her mother requested he go right upstairs, as she had private matters to attend to. When he walked into her room, seeing [___] sitting completely still on the bed. She told him, voice devoid of emotion, that her daddy wouldn't be coming back to visit. Ever. Even at a young age, Barry knew, intrinsically, that this was a grown-up thing, and that he couldn't solve this problem. Instead, he wrapped her up in blankets, made his best ever pillow fort, and told her stories that he made up off the top of his head until she smiled again.

Barry was five now, on the playground, trying to stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. He was a big boy now, his daddy had said so, and big boys don't cry just because the other kids on the playground won't play with you. He had always had an inkling that the other kids didn't like him; sure they tolerated him at school, under the watchful eyes of grown-ups, and yes, he received birthday party invites out of obligation, but the exclusion was still glaringly obvious and very painful. He was too loud. He didn't understand the rules of the game. He was too rough. There were so many rules. He couldn't remember them all. Then, a little hand grabbed his sweater sleeve. [___] held a bucket and shovel, and held it out to him, asking if he wanted to play in the sandbox with her and make things. He could even smash them down when she was done. Barry wiped his nose with the back of his hand and nodded.

Barry was four when he moved to Twinleaf town. He wasn't totally sure why. He knew that daddy had a new job, and that daddy and mommy were ‘taking a break', but that still didn't really explain anything. Not like he had much of a say, no matter how often he tried to argue. And now, he was standing on their new neighbors porch with his mom, pouting as hard as he could. But his demeanor changed when a woman opened the door with her young daughter, looking the same age. Barry and his mommy introduced themselves, then the woman. The woman placed a gentle hand on her daughters head, encouraging her to say her name. And with a quiet murmur, she said her name was-

“DAWN!”

Barry broke into a full sprint now. Tears streaming down his face, smiling as wide as he could muster. “DAWN! DAWN!”

Dawn opened her arms for him, so used to his usual method of greeting. And when he tackled her into a hug, she barely managed to stay on both feet.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face into the crook of her neck and jaw, “Dawn, Dawn, Dawn…Dawn…” he whispered, fearful of forgetting once more.

“Barry! Barry how, how did you- How did-” she stammered, hugging him right back, the two of them slowly spinning, orbiting around one another, locked so tight. “When Palina came to tell me-”

“I-I found you. I found you. I found you.” was all he could manage to say, burying his face deeper. “I found you…I found you….”

Dawn squeezed him tight. “You found me. You found me.”

“I…found you….I found you….found you…” he whispered, his voice growing tired. Distant. His grip started to loosen.

“Barry? Barry, you're slipping.” She said, trying to shift him back into the hug.

But Barry continued to slip, until he slumped into her arms, unconscious.

And Dawn screamed.

“Barry?! BARRY! Barry please wake up!!”

[woodsexplored]

WERE YOU WAITING AT OUR OLD SPOT. IN THE TREE LINE BY THE GOLD CLOCK. DID I LEAVE YOU HANGING EVERY SINGLE DAY?

oliver jackson-cohen, homosexual, cis man + he/him → isn’t that ewan daniel augustine? i hear that they're the woodsman from little red riding hood. i hear they’re 36. they seem to be strong & balanced, but also gruff & abrasive. their aesthetics include the smell of chopped wood and the outdoors, cozy sweaters and warm fireplaces, rough hands and sharpened axes.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: [ EWAN DANIEL AUGUSTINE. ] NICKNAME: [ THE WOODSMAN. THE HUNTER. ] AGE: [ 36 ] GENDER: [ MALE ] PRONOUNS: [ HE/HIM ] FAIRYTALE: [ THE WOODSMAN, LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. ] ETHNICITY: [ ENGLISH. ] RELIGION: [ AGNOSTIC. ] LANGUAGE, IN ORDER OF PROFICIENCY: [ ENGLISH ] ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: [ BIROMANTIC ] SEXUAL ORIENTATION: [ HOMOSEXUAL ] SEXUAL TEMPERAMENT: [ DOM ] SEXUAL POSITION: [ TOP-VERSE ]

RELATIONSHIPS

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: [ TBD. ] PARENTS: [ TBA. ] SIBLINGS: [ redacted. ] FRIENDS: [ TBA. ]

PHYSICAL TRAITS

FACE CLAIM: [ OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN ] EYE COLOUR: [ SEA GREEN ] HAIR COLOUR: [ BROWN ] HEIGHT: [ 2.02 METRES ] BODY BUILD: [ ATHLETIC, LEAN BUFF ] FACIAL HAIR: [ LIGHT SCRUFF CENTRED AROUND THE MOUTH, EXTENDING TO THE SIDE OF HIS FACE. ] TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: [ NONE. ] NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: [ VARIOUS SCARS ON HIS ARMS, TORSO AND LEGS FROM DEADLY AND LARGE ANIMALS LURKING IN THE WOODS ]

PHOBIAS AND DISORDERS

PHOBIAS/FEARS: [ tba. ] MENTAL DISORDERS: [ tba.]

PERSONALITY

INTELLIGENCE: [ WOODSMART. VERY IN TUNE WITH NATURE. CAN TRACK PREY AND PREDATOR WELL. NOT TOO WELL-READ. ] LIKES: [ AXES. WOOD. THE FOREST. ] DISLIKES: [ WOLVES. ] ALIGNMENT: [ NEUTRAL GOOD ] POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ STEADFAST, STRONG, BALANCED, DETERMINED, FARSIGHTED ] NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ GRUFF, ABRASIVE, CRITICAL ]

COMBAT INFORMATION

WEAPONS: [ AXES. BOW AND ARROW. ]

AESTHETICS

AESTHETICS: [ THE SMELL OF CHOPPED WOOD AND THE OUTDOORS, COZY SWEATERS AND WARM FIREPLACES, ROUGH HANDS AND SHARPENED AXES. PETRICHOR. LUSH GREENY. THORNY BUSHES. THE UNKNOWN FOREST. A SINGLE LONE FLOWER GROWING IN THE UNDERBUSH. FLANNEL SHIRTS. WOODSLAND CREATURES. ] INSPO: [ TBA. ] LYRICAL INSPO: [ ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET?, ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET?, ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET?, ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS? // MY HOUSE OF STONE, YOUR IVY GROWS AND NOW I'M COVERED IN YOU. // LIFE WAS A WILLOW AND IT BENT RIGHT TO YOUR WIND. ]

KINKS

KINKS: [ BREEDING. COLLARS. LEASHES. VERBAL FEMINISATION. CHOKING. PUBLIC. SOMNOPHILIA. WATERSPORTS. FACE FUCKING. COCK WARMING. PRAISE. WORSHIP. OBJECTIFICATION. DEGRADATION. HUMILIATION. ] ANTI-KINKS: [ VORE. SCAT. INFANTILISM. ]

BIOGRAPHY

[ wip ]

ewan had to put down a friend that the wolf had turned previously and lost control. resented the wolf since.

red riding hood's grandfather got eaten by the wolf and woodsman saved him by using his axe to cut the wolf open and pull the old man out.

he doesn’t see himself as a killer so there was no reason to confirm the kill once he got grandfather out. the deed was done, the grandfather rescued and the wolf assumed dead. woodsman needed to tend to his wounds and the old man so the woodsman left the cabin and carried the grandfather out.

when he eventually finds out the wolf is still alive, woodsman is confronted w the fact and dilemma of whether he’d actually hunt and try to kill wolf if there’s no one to actively save. basically asking himself if it’s for vengeance or preventing more tragedy.

[dalek-ix-writes-stuff]

Red Ruin - INTERVAL 01: INITIATION (Part IX)

The plan worked. Largely, Blake suspected, because of the part of the plan that Ruby hadn't told them about.

The fires had been mostly underbush, and had taken two swings from the Schnee and a handful of rounds from Yang to set. Now a curtain of smoke rose up and then east, blown by the wind. They had no way of communicating with each other after splitting, but Yang had assured them (or, rather, the Schnee) that that wouldn't be a problem.

Blake could guess why.

They moved in silence (relatively speaking), Blake's mind processing what she'd heard. She'd thought that Ruby was "just" a Hunter-in-training with a telepathic semblance. Which was… Dangerous, yes, but at least something that the hidden Faunus knew where she stood with.

Now, however…

"Lien for your thoughts?"

Blake started. Her eyes shot to Yang, who was keeping pace with her.

"… It's nothing," Blake said, dismissively. Yang chuckled.

"Yeah, I don't need Ruby around to know that's bull," the blonde shoot back, a cheeky note in her voice, "And something tells me it's not because you're in awe of your temporary partner. But I could be wrong!"

Blake rolled her eyes at that. "No," she deadpanned, "You're not."

"Shame. What is it?"

They slid to a stop.

Just like that, the light atmosphere was cut. Blake wondered if creating massive mood whiplash was something learned or genetic.

Blake took a deep breath. This… Wasn't quite something she'd never done before. But still, she had to handle this carefully.

"Your sister," Blake started, "she's read my mind. Actually read my mind."

Yang nodded. There was a brief second when Blake expected the blonde to laugh off what she claimed, but instead Yang said, almost to herself:

"Yeah. She told me you found that out."

Blake kept talking, even as she began to sketch out potential escape routes; there was something about Yang that was reminding her of a mother bear with cubs.

"I thought it was a Telepathic Semblance," the hidden Faunus continued, "But I know that those can only really reach the surface and she…"

Monsters don't feel guilty.

"…She said something," Blake continued, "something that she couldn't have known about without looking deeper. Deeper than any semblance could've looked."

Yang said nothing. She just kept looking at Blake, face neutral.

"And now…" Blake swallowed. "There's no possible way that a semblance could let someone move that fast and read minds. Not even the Schnees'. It's just not how they work."

There was a long pause.

"What is it?" Blake asked at last.

"It's not a semblance."

There was a… Tightness to Yang's voice. An old, old rage. She wasn't looking at Blake anymore but past her, fists clenched hard enough to shake.

"I wish it was," Yang said, "We all wish it was. As for what it is? Doctor Wade says Ruby's a Telepath, hardwired to be sensitive to negative emotions. Ruby says she has a "condition". I say my sister has a fucking curse."

There was a crunch as her first connected with the trunk of a nearby tree. The wood exploded, everything above where she'd hit tossed up and away, landing with a resounding crash.

Instinct had pushed Blake a step away from Yang. She watched as embers flickered along the other girl's hair.

The blonde lowered her arm and, deliberately, unclenched her hands. Breathed out.

"Ever since she was little… Nightmares so bad she wouldn't sleep for weeks… So bad they'd spill out and rip everything around her apart… hallucinations… hysteria…" Yang shook her head. "She didn't get more than two hours of sleep at a time until she was eight, didn't smile until she was ten, and I didn't hear her laugh until she was thirteen. She's never even tried to make a friend outside of our family and Doctor Wade." Yang brushed her hair. "She's… Okay now. Functional. But every now and then…"

It deserves to die.

Blake nodded. Yang looked… Older. Like some of the Brothers and Sisters in the White Fang who had been there for the longest.

Then her gaze focused on Blake, and she got that "mother-bear-with-cubs" impression again.

"I won't tell," Blake told Yang preemptively, maybe a bit too hastily as she saw the blonde's eyes narrow subtly.

"Ruby promised to keep what… What she knows about me secret," Blake explained, "Even assuming anyone believed me…" Blake shook her head. "It wouldn't be fair."

Yang still looked skeptical. "Fair, huh?" She drawled, arms crossed, "What's she keeping a lid on that makes you think this is fair?"

Blake bit her lip. She'd hoped that would've been enough to satisfy Yang, but it looked like the older sister was a lot more suspicious than the younger…

There was one thing Blake could do. An older infiltrator had once told that the best way to get humans to stop looking was to make them think they'd found what they're looking for.

It was still going to be a gamble. But Blake believed she could handle the fallout if she lost.

Before Yang could say anything else, Blake reached up, and tugged. The bow came off.

Whatever Yang was about to say died in her mouth.

[zackastor]

starter for: @vivienneastor

location: outside of redwood

"What the fuck?" A car. A fucking silver Cadillac Escalade in the middle of a barely paved road leading through the woods. Admittedly, Zack had seen some weird fucking shit over his time living in a post apocalyptic world. Like that one time he and his wolves had found a camp that looked like the people in it had vanished without a trace. Or that one forest where they'd found a bunch of baby dolls hug up around the neck on string. But somehow, seeing a damn luxury car in the middle of nowhere was something that made him pause and do a slightly stunted double-take.

He should probably be more shocked by the fact that his living-dead brother was tied to the front bumper like a dog on a leash. And it most definitely was Hunter Astor, even though those stunning blue eyes he'd always been complimented on were now milky white, staring at but not seeing Zack in the underbush. Hunter's mouth opened and closed, perfect pearly white teeth clacking together as he tugged on his leash with arms stretched out and grasping at the air. Yeah, that was his brother, alright. That probably explained the damn car.

Zack's jaw muscles tensed as he watched the familiar figure groan and write against his binds for a few moments longer. If Hunter was tied up, that meant he hadn't been alone when he died. And Hunter hadn't died too long ago. Which meant he might have to deal with Jason. Kelly, maybe, if he was lucky. Or some other rich fucker. Or, he could just leave because why should he deal with this?

"Fucking hell." Zack muttered to himself before grabbing his bow. The arrow hit Hunter straight in one of his milky-blue fish eyes, spraying a tiny shower of blood onto the hood of the car. His brother's body dropping and hitting it with a thumb left a redish, gory smear of brain matter in it's wake. "Damn bastard." Zack spit on the ground, considering on whether or not he should retrieve his arrow when a voice cut through the silence of the woods.

"Zack?" No. Fucking hell no. His gaze flickered to the head poking above the hood, even though he'd recognized the disdainful tone as soon as he heard it. Out of all the people to survive this damn apocalypse, and to make her way near Redwood - he'd thought she wouldn't be one of them. And yet here she was.

Vivienne Lai Astor.

Zack stared at her for a moment, eyes wide, shocked. It took a good few seconds before he managed to get the words out, his voice a rasp. "What the hell are you doing here?"

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

hi kat im trying to make sense of something that happened

i hadnt been feeling too good for a couple days and this morning i was really feelin struggling to follow what was going on around me?? idk how to put it

i went through the usual motions and went to church like every sunday but i still wasnt feeling good before it started and suddenly i couldnt feel the top of my head it was just gone

then there was a hole in the back and i kept touching it but i couldnt find it i tried to tell someone but they looked at me weird and their face didnt make sense and it scared me so i ran out and went to the small forest near my city but from afar i saw this man with a bright orange hat (i think he had a dog but im not sure)and im not supposed to be in this forest so i hid in the underbush because he turned his head in my direction and i was afraid he'd find me and in all this i still felt the hole in my head i hid for a bit and now im more in the open and hes not there anymore but i really dont feel like going back home and meeting people

also this all sounds crazy so whats that person going to think when im back no one will believe me

i dont know if this was okay to say i just needed to tell someone i dont know

That does sound really scary and I'm sorry you had to experience it. That being said, considering that it is highly unlikely that a hole would suddenly appear in your head for no reason, I urge you to consider psychosis as a possible explanation for this experience. This doesn't mean that you didn't experience it or that you don't get to be affected by it, but it does mean that your experiences might not match the shared reality all of the time, and that's important to be aware of for future reference.

[caimitos]

not to be dramatic but boards review season has me in such a state rn most days ill be walking home at 5:30 brain leaking out of my ears feeling like a pathetic little animal crawling around the underbush looking for a place to die

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Not only is it really easy to die in the woods, people do not act like rational beings when lost in the woods. People (especially children!) often go up rather than down, people will forge through underbush rather than stick to an easy path. If you're not familiar with hiking, it's very easy to get disorientated very fast.

If an experienced hiker can die in the woods, so can you.

Any conspiracy theory about people going missing in National Parks is automatically silly to me. Like "Why are National Parks such a hotbed of disappearances???" because they're full of idiots. You've got thousands of people who've never pissed outdoors in their life wandering around the woods/desert/mountain with zero experience and zero gear and zero understanding that this place can kill them. You don't see as many disappearances in wild areas because people don't go to them unless they have some background knowledge. Whereas you get tour buses full of old folks and suburban families shuttling people into National Parks 365 days a year. If you took the same amount of buffoons and dropped them in the actual wilderness the disappearances would be significantly higher than at the parks. Use your brain.

[thegreymoon]

The Slave Hunters

Finally, he asks the right person.

But honestly, this painting looks nothing like her??

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She didn't tell him, LMAO.

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The landscapes are so beautiful in this drama.

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Liar.

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Also a liar.

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She gets on my very last nerve.

Yes, please, run into the forest by your own useless self and preferably get eaten by a wild animal.

Also, I am so annoyed by her pristine white dress as if she has not been crawling through the underbush and hiding under houses for fucking days.

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So lovely.

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I love him 🖤

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Beautiful.

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The scenery is my favourite part of this drama.

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Aww, no. He is too late to save his teacher.

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Messy fight.

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Nice, as usual.

[tidalhaired]

@ienemy

This forest path was both well trodden and well known. It was the safest way to reach Imladris, Elrond's humble but ever growng stronghold. In his bag was a scroll with Gil-galad's royal seal, containing important tactical messages for the visiting Greenwood royalty awaiting Elrond's return up in the valley. He did not travel by horse, the hooves were too loud and orcs too numerous. He was better off on his light feet, evading them with both grace and the blessing of the radiant sun.

Danger was not always announced by loud noise. Sometimes it was heralded by absolute silence. Elrond halted his steps amidst the tall trees, realising that all he heard was himself. His own footsteps, the rustling of his cloak and his own breathing. Now that unease increased, he also heard his own pulse thrum in his ears.

No birdsong, no skittering critter in the underbush. Life had vacated his surroundings, leaving only the breeze rustling the tree leaves, until even it ceased, stilling moving branches. Everything had fled, leaving only Elrond behind. The forest was warning him.

His heart hammered in his chest, as if it too was a songbird that desperately flapped its tiny wings and tried to escape. Suddenly he did hear something. A step? Someone heavy or large. Another step. Of a foot? No..not a foot. A paw. Elrond had joined enough hunts to know how a walking animal sounded like.

Starlit eyes then saw it in the distance and widened. A wolf, far larger than any wolf Elrond had ever seen. The beasts eyes gleamed like embers in the darkness that had begun to spread around them like a curtain. Elrond took one step back. The another. He barely dared to breathe. The moment he would start running, it would give chase and though he carried a sword, to challenge a beast of this size would be folly.

[embraced-chaos]

@c0nn0rb0t

The scene is quiet except for the murmurs of the responders doing their jobs. The 'plane' in question as said to be an unmanned drone. But then something stirs in the underbush. Not the wind, nor an animal but... A human child? Was it not a drone afterall and she was on the plane? She seems unharmed. Maybe she managed to wander into the site before it was fully secured?

The girl sits on the ground she looks at Connor. There is terror in her eyes as she curls her arms around herself and brings her knees in close like a trapped animal desperately trying to make itself small. She says nothing hoping that she wouldn't be spotted.