verbal lollygagging

#morning kisses in every universe ✨

The moment crumbles around them so suddenly that even the sky feels less magical than it did just a second before. Akk's fingernails dig into his palms, Aye's lingering heat on his skin dissipating into the night air like dew at sunrise.

"Yeah," he agrees, turning away from Aye and squaring his shoulders. "I still need to train my undergrads on sampling best practice, so I won't even be able to get much done tomorrow."

Aye makes a sound of acknowledgement, then rises from their improvised bench. "I'll see you in the morning."

And then he walks away, the only sound in the scorched forest his retreating footfalls over the crackling ground.

anyway wrote a bit for a few different fics

hypoxia

"What plant is it?" "I don't know," Boston says. It had clearly been a match for Nick's, so he never tried to identify it. It looks vaguely familiar—he thinks it might grow in water?—but he doesn't know its name. "You don't know? But the species says so much about the relationship!" Boston gives his conversation partner (What was his name? Even?) a skeptical look. Why does he need a plant to tell him about his relationship? He lived it.

the hunt

You dive towards him, throwing your whole body weight into the movement thoughtlessly. He's ready for you. He takes your weight, knife poised perfectly to catch you right in the belly, and the pain whites out your vision - you're preternaturally strong, but your flesh gives way beneath a blade just like a human's. He drags the knife sideways, splitting open your stomach, and it's so sharp that it passes too easily through muscle and organs. Entrails and blood pour out over his hands, and as you look up at him, there's barely a trace of fear in his eyes. You picked the wrong target tonight. You picked a killer.

trees look normal

The moment crumbles around them so suddenly that even the sky feels less magical than it did just a second before. Akk's fingernails dig into his palms, Aye's lingering heat on his skin dissipating into the night air like dew at sunrise.

"Yeah," he agrees, turning away from Aye and squaring his shoulders. "I still need to train my undergrads on sampling best practice, so I won't even be able to get much done tomorrow."

Aye makes a sound of acknowledgement, then rises from their improvised bench. "I'll see you in the morning."

And then he walks away, the only sound in the scorched forest his retreating footfalls over the crackling ground.