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Happiness is Homemade // Albert & Arthur

@leatherandsoil

Arthur was cleaning his cabin… again - for what was possibly the fourth or fifth time. He couldn’t help it. The guy coming in for the next interview was… impressive. There wasn’t a better word to describe the man’s resume or portfolio. Hell, he’d worked for National Geographic AND Discovery! The place HAD to look good. Better than good. Out of all the applications he’d received, this man had the most promise. Everything needed to be perfect!

Silently (and without any real conviction) he cursed Molly for going off traveling. Then again… he should probably be cursing Dutch for convincing her to go. What was so great about Tahiti, anyway? With a grunt of dissatisfaction, Arthur rearranged couch pillows while his mind wandered. She’d be back eventually - last he’d heard, they only planned to stay for 6 months or so. But he needed a videographer now, not six months from now.

Hell, she was the one who’d started all of this in the first place. He just liked to cook. It hadn’t been his idea to start making videos for Youtube - that was all her. Neither of them had expected any of it to go viral so quickly, though. According to Molly, people seemed to like his ‘down to earth’ cooking style, and his openness about the time he spent in prison. She also said being ‘easy on the eyes’ didn’t hurt, though he was pretty sure she was just teasing him. Arthur couldn’t imagine anyone willingly wanting to stare at his dumb mug for more than a few minutes at a time.

Grumbling, he moved into the kitchen and began wiping down counters. It was really hard to stay angry about any of it. Molly had done her best to help him out after deciding to leave. She’d handed most of the social media accounts off to Sean and a couple of guys he knew. Normally Arthur would’ve balked at the idea, but the woman had gotten him this far, and it didn’t seem right - questioning her judgement just because he didn’t want her to go.

After Molly’d settled that, she’d written up a nice ‘Help Wanted’ ad and posted it to Indeed and a couple of other job sites. Then she’d helped him cherry pick the best candidates for interviews. Arthur hated interviewing people. He felt awkward and more than a little stupid asking questions he didn’t always completely understand the answers to. He wasn’t an idiot when it came to working with a camera… but his knowledge was VERY basic. No need to learn with Molly there to make every video come out looking like a million bucks. But now Molly wasn’t here and he felt himself floundering. Cooking wasn’t supposed to be stressful! It was a relaxation… a calming of the body and mind. Arthur tried to tell himself it would be again - just as soon as he got someone hired.

A quick glance at the clock told him his applicant should be arriving… was that the sound of wheels crunching on the gravel? Unable to stay inside a minute longer, Arthur strode to the door and stepped out onto the wrap-around porch. This was also calming. Nothing but forest as far as the eye could see. Taking a deep breath in and then out, he leaned against the railing (in what he hoped was a casual pose) and waved to the indistinct figure in the car. As the engine shut off, the forest’s natural sounds slowly crescendoed to fill the silence and Arthur took another steadying breath. He could do this! Everything was going to be just fine.

#leatherandsoil #Happiness is Homemade #Youtube!AU #(( This... might need editing...? I'm open to suggestions. LOL! ))

Civilization is Fine

Arthur had watched the news with horror that day - October 23, 2077. And then he’d died, along with countless others. But you can’t kill an immortal - not permanently. He awoke several days later in the rubble of what had been his RV. The days that followed were like something out of a nightmare. The radiation from the bombs was doing unspeakable things to people. Arthur tried to help where he could - and sometimes he was thanked. But more than once he was stabbed in the back for whatever food or supplies he had on him and left for dead. Humans. So many of them out for no one but themselves. But each time it happened, he got back up and kept trying to help.

He also tried to help the animals, poor creatures that had no idea what was happening to them as their bodies became irradiated. Arthur did what he could for them, feeling his patron god’s power in every act of kindness he performed. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And so the world moved forward - in the ways that it could. Arthur put together a small caravan - just himself and the animals he managed to gather along the way. He took care of them… and bred them for selling. After all, even an immortal needs to earn a living. It wasn’t long before he became well known in the area as an honest trader with the best livestock around. Unfortunately, it was word of mouth like that which had ever Raider gang in the area trying to take his livelihood away.

It was the third attack that did him in. Literally and figuratively. He awoke from a gunshot to the head, to find all of his animals either dead or stolen. He got them back, of course. And left a VERY blunt message for other raider gangs in the area. Then he took his animals and left. At first, he didn’t know where he was going. Just… away. He didn’t want to deal with humans anymore. He just wanted his animals, and maybe a plot of land for himself… as far away from civilization as possible. It took a lot of traveling, and a lot of trouble, but although the gods had been relatively silent since the bomb, Arthur could still feel Hermes guiding him to what he was looking for.

Then, one day, after several of trekking through the remains of what had once been a lush forest, he found it. A small plot of land seemingly untouched by the fallout. It was perfect. So Arthur got to work. He built a small cabin for himself and housing for his remaining animals. The dogs and cats were remarkably resilient to the radiation; his hooved companions weren’t so lucky, but they seemed to have stabilized, something he was grateful for. The chickens were more aggressive, but still seemed to accept him. All in all, the farm was an odd one, but he thanked both Hermes and Pan for their help in leading him here. This was the life he was ready for now… even if it had been thrust upon him so suddenly.

Years passed… decades. Every now and then, Arthur would leave the farm in search of animals to help keep the gene pool fresh, but that was it. He never stayed in populated areas for long, and always made sure he was never followed. Life was… tolerable. And then the unthinkable happened. He was out in the fields, collecting fresh mutfruit when he heard the sound of an engine! There wasn’t anything visible in the sky, but the noise could be nothing else. Then the tone changed, turning into a high-pitched whine… right before there was the sound of an enormous explosion that shook the ground beneath his feet. For a moment shock kept the man in place, but he knew he needed to find out what had happened… and why.

So, with a small pack of supplies slung over his back, Arthur took one of his horses and went out in search of the source. About thirty minutes due south, he found the crash sight. It was a vertibird! He hadn’t seen one of those since before the war - hadn't even known any still existed! Then he found the body. Or rather… the man. He was still alive! A small part of Arthur warned against helping him… but it just wasn’t in his nature not to heal those who were hurting - be they animal or human. So he moved to inspect the man, speaking as he went, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m here to help. I promise you’re safe; I’m going to get you patched up if I can.” What he said made no difference if the man was unconscious, he knew that, but words of comfort never hurt.

Kneeling, Arthur examined the man with his eyes first. It looked as if he’d probably parachuted out of the craft before it crashed… but hadn’t made it quite far enough away to avoid all the effects of the blast. There were obvious injuries from the crash… but also a lot of abdominal blood. Gently, he placed his hands on the man’s body, continuing to offer words of comfort. It wasn’t long before he found the bullet hole. Arthur cursed and began fishing through his pack. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have time to get you somewhere safer. I’m going to cut your shirt off so I can get to that bullet.”

He worked carefully and with obvious skill. Only once Arthur was certain the wound was as protected as he could manage, did he carefully wrap the man in a blanket and lift him onto the horse’s back. The journey back to his farm was uneventful, and when they arrived, he carefully got the man inside and settled him on the bed. Only then did he strip off the rest of the other’s clothes and began working on patching up the remaining injuries. Once he was satisfied he’d done all he could, Arthur puttered around the house, fixing food, and waiting for his unexpected guest to wake up.

#leatherandsoil #Jack Pitcairn #Fallout!AU #Civilization is Fine

Where Your Story Begins

@leatherandsoil

After Amphion’s death, Arthur had traveled to many places, all across the earth. Or at least as far as he could get the sailors to take him. They were a superstitious lot - sailors - and there were boundaries that very few of them were willing to sail past because ‘none had ever returned.’ Still - it had gotten him this far. Britannia. Or so the Romans called it. Life here was a far cry from his own homeland of Hellas (dubbed Greece by the Romans - they seemed to think naming things gave them more power over them.) Not only was the culture itself different, but the climate had take some getting used to. Winters here were bitterly cold, and Arthur had managed to freeze himself more than once before figuring out that he needed better accommodations when the weather got colder.

Now though, he’d fallen into this way of life - there was himself, the horse he rode, and a second pack horse for his camping and medical supplies. To the people he met and the villages he passed through, he touted himself as a healer of animals (and sometimes humans.) In exchange for food and furs, he would offer whatever aid he could. It was a good system, and one he found himself enjoying. It was lonely, of course... though he knew of men in several villages that were willing to share his bed when he had the urge. But that was little more than sex - no attachments expected or desired. It wasn’t a bad way to live... but it didn’t feel ‘complete’ either.

The Arkadian found himself contemplating this very thought as he finished setting up camp for himself. The canvases were stretched out to offer shelter, the horses were fed and watered via the nearby stream, and his meal of rabbit was roasting over the fire. Then the sound of hoof beats reached his ears and Arthur tensed. He could survive any attack... but his horses could not. Drawing a short sword from where it rested by his side, he stepped out of his make-shift shelter and scanned the darkening forest. The sounds came closer... and then abruptly stopped. Then came another sound... something heavy and solid falling into the leaves. The startled protestations of a horse... and then nothing. Nothing but the stream.

Arthur looked back at his cooking dinner, sighed, took it off the fire, and then stepped back out to uncover the source of the sounds. It didn’t take as long as he’d expected. Within a few moments the Grecian came upon a horse drinking thirstily from the river... and an unconscious rider with one arm still tangled in the reins. The only reason he hadn’t been dragged yet was because the horse seemed content to do nothing but drink. He eyed the animal - it was a fine one... possibly Roman... and it had been worked over hard. A chase, then? His gaze darted back to the rider. Arthur had misgivings... but not enough to simply walk away. Stepping forward, he spoke soothingly to the horse, and encouraged the animal to stay still as he stooped to examine the rider.

“Do you live?” he asked the man, shaking his shoulder gently, eyes darting down to take stock of what looked like a nasty leg injury. Arthur spoke in the native tongue of the area, despite the horse’s appearance. The man himself still looked Pictish, after all. “I’m a healer; I won’t hurt you, you have my word. But I need to cut you loose from your horse’s reins...” A pause as he brought his sword into view. “You’re safe... I promise.”

#leatherandsoil #Where Your Story Begins #2nd Century CE #Brittania

When I Think of Happiness // Kelly & Arthur

@leatherandsoil

Arthur Morgan had a decent life… one he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved. Yeah, he’d made mistakes and done his time, but it still didn’t feel right somehow. He couldn’t figure how he’d been chosen for Paul and Kelly’s ranch over what had to’ve been an overflow of better candidates. The two brothers were well-known for their reform program… even inside the prison system. They helped get guys like him back on their feet after everyone else beat them down. They were good men. Not like Arthur. And yet, here he was. This ranch had been his life for the past three years. Although he worked mainly as a mechanic, he could do all kinds of odd jobs now, too. The ranch (and the men who ran it) had taught him a lot - something he’d forever be grateful for.

His thoughts were interrupted by the wind outside. The snow storm was picking up, sounding fiercer by the minute. He needed to wrap up his work for the evening and head for his room. Too much longer out here in the shop and he was liable to get trapped in a snowdrift. Thank god they’d seen off the last of their guests last week. Dealing with weather like this was bad enough without having to manage irate tourists on top of it. Just a few final notes to make sure all of his current job requests were in order…

He’d just made his final notation when the door to the shop banged open and a harried-looking Paul stepped inside. The man, who was usually just seconds away from smiling no matter when you saw him, looked worried. Never a good sign. “Please don’t tell me somethin’s up with tha generators.” Not that he wouldn’t handle it like he always did, but Arthur’d really been looking forward to nothing more than a good book, a warm blanket, and a hot toddy (or two.)

#leatherandsoil #When I Think of Happiness #Ranch!AU #(( Self control? What's that? ;P ))

An Inch of Time ~ Hanzo/Herger/Jesse

"An inch of time is an inch of gold but you can't buy that inch of time with an inch of gold." - Chinese Proverb

It was supposed to be an easy mission. But Jesse should’ve known by then to take those words with a grain of salt. Hell - he was pretty sure Athena didn’t even know what that word meant anymore. Either that, or the AI needed some serious upgrades. But yeah - easy. Make their way into the abandoned Talon base, deal with any remaining ‘security measures’ and scavenge whatever tech and files they could find. Winston and Tracer had gone after the files, Jack and Anna were dealing with security, which left Hanzo and himself scrounging through empty laboratories looking for anything that might be useful… or help them get a bead on what Talon’s next moves might be.

Jesse had to admit that the entire mission had felt… off from the beginning. Why was the place abandoned so suddenly? Athena didn’t have any intel on that. But Talon has left in a hurry and Overwatch (still trying to find itself in this new world) needed all the help they could get, so they’d acted. Now, as he watched Hanzo move quietly along beside him, Jesse hoped things here were exactly what they seemed. He allowed the hint of a smile to cross his lips as he thought about his previous night with the archer.

What they had was… unexpected. But also damn good. How Genji’s wayward brother had managed to become such an important part of his life in such a short amount of time was something Jesse didn’t question too closely. The man made him happier that he’d thought possible, and that was enough.

Forcing his mind back to the present, Jesse kept his eyes on the corridor as Hanzo moved ahead of him into the next room. A brilliant blue light suddenly flooded the hallway from the door… before it closed with a soft ‘whoosh-click,’, sealing him off from Hanzo and whatever had been triggered by the archer’s entry into the room. With a curse, Jesse bounded for the door, trying to pry it open. “Winston, I gotta problem,” he called into his comm. “Somthin’s goin on, an’ Hanzo’s stuck in tha middle of it!” There was a staticky crackle of what might’ve been his teammate’s voice, but nothing discernible. With another curse, Jesse did the only other thing he could think of - he turned his gun to the door’s control panel, and fired.

The door popped open about an inch, blue light flooding the corridor once more and Jesse leapt forward to pry it the rest of the way open. Inside he couldn’t really make sense of what exactly was happening. There was a platform, and in the center was a thrumming, swirling circle of blue light… and it was inhaling everything that wasn’t nailed down! Hanzo had managed to grab onto a support beam, but his lower body was already within the ravenous void. Feeling himself being sucked forward as well, Jesse angled for the same beam as Hanzo, grabbing onto his lover with his prosthetic arm, and holding onto the beam with the other.

Just as he did, Hanzo lost his grip. Jesse still felt himself holding onto the other man, but the archer was completely within the portal now. “No, dammit!” As if crying out could change whatever was happening. He tried not to crush Hanzo’s arm with his mechanical grip as his serape whipped around between them, dancing in and out of the brilliant blue glow. Jesse’s hold on the support column loosened. His arm was in the portal now, but he could still feel Hanzo holding on, so he knew whatever this was, it hadn't killed the other man. Yet.

And then the room suddenly went dark. Jesse heard a sharp ‘crack-pop-sizzle’ as his prosthetic (or what was left of it) dropped uselessly to his side. What the HELL had just happened?! Suddenly his comm snapped to life. “Jesse! What’s going on down there?! We had to cut the power…”

Oh… oh god! He felt his mind start to spiral, but forced words into his mouth. “Winston! I lost Hanzo! You gotta turn the power back on! We gotta get him back!” Emergency lights began to flicker on… but the dais where the portal had been stayed dark and empty. Oh fuck…!

Winston was talking again… asking questions. Jesse just stared at the place Hanzo had been mere moments before. Then the voice changed to Jack’s - more demanding. Gaze sliding down to where his prosthetic hand had once been, Jesse forced himself to take a breath and start talking. The sooner they figured this out, the sooner he could get Hanzo back. He needed to focus. Losing it wouldn’t help the man he’d so quickly grown to love. The sooner he pulled himself together, the sooner they’d get this figured out and get Hanzo back. Because there was no way in HELL they weren’t getting the other man back. Jesse would see to that.

@piercedflora / @leatherandsoil

#piercedflora #leatherandsoil #An Inch of Time #Time Travel!AU

#NFTumblcryptids #leatherandsoil #HAH!!!!#I LOVE THIS!!!

Like Trying to Hold Moonlight ~ Arn/Llyr

@leatherandsoil

Llyr sat on his front porch, savoring a dram of his favorite whiskey. He was watching the sun wind its way below the horizon as a full, harvest moon crept ever higher, reflecting in the stillness of the forested lake before him. Beautiful. Not home, of course. It would never be like the beauty of Ireland, but he was content here all the same. The owners of Abernathy Farm had surprised him with both their kindness and generosity. When he’d first arrived, the selkie had expected some eventual trick or trap… but it never came.

After the first decade or so, he’d finally started to relax a little - joining the others for resident-only events… offering his musical skills for various festivals now and then. He’d always thought the time would eventually come when he’d be ready to move on. But Llyr was creeping up on his 50th year here, and still had no desire to abandon his little lake-side cabin on the farm’s outskirts. He also found himself realizing that he’d be lonely out there. Here, the residents and workers of Abernathy understood him. They accepted his desire to keep to himself… but never begrudged the man when he showed up for events. It was, for lack of better words, a perfect setup from everyone involved. They even allowed him to work a night shift so he didn’t have to interact with the farm’s daily customers. It was hard to imagine his life getting any better here.

Finishing off the last of the whiskey, the selkie reached out to pull a bag that sat next to him closer. The light of day was barely a sliver. It was time. With deft footsteps, Llyr left his porch and moved down to the shore. He followed the line a little ways to a series of trees with low-hanging branches. Fingers pulled and tugged quickly at clothing, and within moments he’d stripped everything, leaving it to hang on the branches. Then, he undid the clasp on the bag, murmuring the soft words of a spell as he did so. With a soft snick, the latch came free and Llyr pulled out his true skin.

Wither eager, shaking fingers he approached the shore before slipping the skin over his shoulders and feeling the transformation begin. Within moments a speckled grey seal was flapping his way eagerly towards the water. It wasn’t the ocean, of course. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. He had the night off, and the whole lake to himself! Llyr was in heaven! Mind just a tiny bit hazy from the whiskey, he allowed himself the let go - jumping, and diving and splashing to his heart’s content. The selkie reveled in the feel of the water rushing through his fur as he darted from one side of the lake to the other, almost completely oblivious to the world around him.

#leatherandsoil #Like Trying to Hold Moonlight #Abernathy Verse #Roleplay: Llyr

Just Like a Hallmark Movie ~ Kelly/Gabe

Gabriel was leaning up against the outside of his studio, Velvet Avenue, on a sunny Saturday morning waiting for who he hoped would be his newest hire. Finding people willing to work behind the scenes on a porno set was actually a lot easier than anyone might think. Finding specialty people for specific needs…? Not so much. Gabe had been looking for a very particular style for his newest directorial masterpiece - he needed someone who could put the ‘Hallmark’ in Christmas. And until a few days ago, he’d had no luck finding someone willing to work on his project AND give him the feel he was wanting. Then he’d happened across some old Christmas photos at his brother’s house. The design of the exterior was, frankly, amazing. The decor felt warm and inviting and spoke to the designer’s attention to detail. THIS was the person he needed!

It took a little bit of doing to track down the info, but eventually he was calling up a man named Tim Kelly at Emerald Isle Lawn and Lightscapes and offering him a ‘unique business opportunity.’ Gabe was always prepared for the let down of being told ‘no’ once he revealed the kind of movies he made, but Mr. Kelly surprised him by not telling the director to get lost. Within 15 minutes they’d arranged a day and a time to meet.

Gabe couldn’t help feeling excited. This guy’s work was exactly what he needed to give his movie that wholesome feel he was going for. Well… until the clothes started coming off, of course. He hoped that by showing Mr. Kelly around the set, and talking about what he was wanting, they could come to an agreeable arrangement. As he was trying to decide which set he’d show first, a nice-looking pickup truck pulled into the lot. It was a deep forest green, and shimmered a little in the afternoon sun; it also bore the logo of Tim Kelly’s business.

Resisting the urge to leave his spot and start bouncing on the balls of his feet, Gabe watched as the truck parked and a tall, well-muscled man got out of the cab. He tried not to gape. On any other day he probably would’ve mistaken this guy for one of his actors. Tim Kelly definitely had the look other men wanted to see. Hell, he had the look GABE wanted to see. Unconsciously licking at his lips, the director finally left his wall and moved towards the man.

“Mr. Kelly, I presume?” He held out his hand to shake, a little ashamed of how much he was anticipating the feel of that large hand wrapping around his own. “Gabriel Gold. So glad you were able to make it! Hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place.”

@leatherandsoil

#leatherandsoil #Just Like a Hallmark Movie #Velvet Avenue!AU #Human!AU