#oakley core

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

Guh I forgot to post this

Oakley by the ocean

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

Oakleys hands are cold and soft. Long fingers and a surprisingly wider palm. She moisturizes often enough, but nothing can keep the warmth in her palms. Even gloves don’t help. Her hands are delicate and gentle when they hold yours. Fingers twining with yours, and idly ghosting your knuckles.

Talises hands are smooth. And slightly wet with moisture. She holds everything firmly, like if she lets go her hands will never find it again. Her claws have grown sharp for defense, and her membranes between her fingers keep you from lacing your hands together, but she will hold on to you nonetheless. Her knuckles are scarred and bumpy. Like it wants to callous but the skin doesn’t know quite how. Her hands are encompassing and comforting when they grasp yours.

Eliphas’ hands are thin and long. Nails neatly trimmed, skin slightly dry. He holds things energetically. Waved to a beat that isn’t there, tapped with playful fingertips. Their hands tickle and ghost your skin when they reach for your own. Three squeezes meaning I love you.

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

You’re in trouble. Bleeding out as you’re backed into a corner.

A flash of white bursts through the trees, caught in vines and leaves as it slams into the rock wall behind whatever’s attacking you nearly bouncing back off of it.

It’s Oakley.

That strange silent farmer you’ve barely spoke to. A groan struggles to gurgle up her throat in between the heaving breathes she takes as she just as quickly stumbles into the cause of the danger, sending it off balance just enough to rush past it towards you.

She yanks you up, her breathes impossibly ragged and choking. Just how fast did she sprint here to get to you in time?!

Her sweaty skin shines in the dappled light that breaks through the tree tops.

Her braids a mess, its tie gone, half undone and riddled with leaves and sticks.

Her grip on your arm is bruising. Nails digging into your soft skin.

A inhuman growl stutters from deep in her chest, yellow eyes flashing as she backs up with you slowly, pulling you closer as her form starts to break.

Her bones creak, her skin stretches and her body shimmers before taking on the form of a large white deer.

You lean against her, gripping a fist full of fur as you grunt in pain, blood smattering her shiny coat.

She stomps her hooves, letting out a huge warning snort, the heat of her breath foggy in the cool forest air.

She does a warning swipe of her antlers in front of you before turning and bolting with you back through the trees away from what chases you.

To town. To safety.

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

You tell Oakley she’s hot and she kinda stands there looking around before shrugging and saying “idk it’s kinda chilly in here.” Then tucks her hands in her sleeves like a Minecraft villager and slinks away.